A/N: Second Clato Fan Fic! YES!
Disclaimer: I do not own anything recognizable. Suzanne Collins own them. If I did, I would've made Clove and Cato win the Games. ~le sigh
He Remembers
It's been almost so long now, almost six decades already, but he still remembers everything. Everything about them, everything that they did. Everything about them, everything about Cato and Clove.
—
He remembers how she shouted at him for taking all the glory in their trainer's eyes back in the Training Center at District 2. She was so mad at him that she cut his shoulders with her knife, an how she promised to do more than just that if he ever did it again. She looked so menacing then, that he almost felt afraid. It was their first encounter ever, and already she has done something to him.
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He remembers how her body feels pressed up against him during their hand-to-hand combat sessions. He remembers how it made him feel-nervous. Being around her always made him feel nervous.
—
He remembers how he confessed to her about his feelings. Yet again they were doing hand-to-hand combat, and uncertainty flashed through his eyes. He thought of who he'll feel when she's chosen as a tribute. He felt his insides turn at the sight of watching her die, so he confessed. It was one of those moments that he left her speechless.
—
He remembers the unwanted look his parents are giving him. He knew they wanted him to not get involved with anyone, seeing as it will be of no use when he volunteers for the Games next year. He remembers how he shook it off and ignored them. They don't know what it feels like, he thought. They wouldn't know because they never loved each other in the first place.
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He remembers how it made him feel when her name was called as female tribute. He remembers how he made his way into the clearing and shouted, "I volunteer as tribute!" He remembers the horror on her face when what he's done finally sunk in.
—
He remembers the agonizing train ride to the Capitol, when she couldn't do as much as look at him. He remembers how he came in to her room that one time and told her how he has to protect her. How he has to keep her alive. He closed the door, knowing she wouldn't reply, but not before he heard her choke a sob.
—
He remembers their late-night strolls around the magnificent gardens of the ground floor of the Training Center. He remembers how she'd talk about how she misses her family, how it sucks to be in the Games and pretend that she wanted to be in it. He was her confidant, someone she could trust in the Games when a thing you say could be used against you, just as she was his confidant. They talked about everything, until she fell asleep in his shoulders and he had to carry her up to their floor and into her bedroom. He remembers how she told him to stay with her that night. He remembers how he stayed and wrapped his arms around her body, an act he seemed to miss doing so the past decades.
—
He remembers how they both went insane over the District 12's parade costume and the girl tribute's unexpected 11 in the private session score. They outshone them, the lower districts. It shouldn't have been that way. It should've been them, Cato and Clove, who got all the glory. They, after all, were born for the Games.
—
He remembers how she looked in that dark orange dress her stylist made her wear. He remembers how she made his heart beat faster when she smiled and waved to all of Panem when she was bein interviewed. He remembers how beautiful she looked.
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He remembers how anger built up inside him when Baker Boy confessed his petty 'crush' for Girl on Fire. He remembers how all of Panem seemed to sympathize to him. He remembers what he thought at that time. That if it was him who confessed, will Panem sympathize with him as well?
—
He remembers the look of determination on her face when they were standing at their respective plates, sixty seconds before the gong sounded. He remembers how he caught her eye, how they shared a knowing glance. How they agreed to take on everyone who dared to get their hands on weapons that were meant for them. He remembers how he thought that that was a sign. Show no mercy. Show no feelings. Whatever he confessed to her, all their late-night strolls and talks meant nothing now. Because they can't show feelings. Because showing feelings in the Games meant weakness, and weakness meant losing, and they both can't lose.
—
He remembers the look of jealousy on her features when the girl from District 1, Glimmer, he suddenly remembered her name, decided to play coy with him. She was sharpening her knives then, and he knew that any minute, she could blow up. He remembers how her face flushed even more when he whispered sweet nothings to Glimmer, sweet nothings he longed to say to her, but could no longer do so much as long for it. He remembers how he imagined that night that it was her he was cuddled to sleep with. He remembers how Glimmer's body felt so wrong with him but hers always felt right.
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He remembers how he shouted for her name when Fire Girl dropped a whole nest of Tracker Jackers on them. He remembers how he found her hands amidst the chaos, how he held on to her tightly. He remembers how it could've been if it was her who died, instead of Glimmer. He remembers how he quickly dismissed the thought, because it was too painful to even think about it.
—
He remembers how she laughed when Cladius Templesmith announced that there could be two victors, if they were from the same District.
"So Loverboy and Fire Girl could go home together, huh?" He remembers her say to him with a laugh. It was a sick joke between the two of them. They both know that the Gamemakers changed the rules for the sake of those so-called 'Star-Crossed Lovers.' It wasn't meant for them. How could it be when they tried their hardest not to show interest in each other all those times?
—
He remembers how they waited for the announcement of the Feast. It always came around those time. He remembers how he heard her teeth clatter because of the uncanny cold weather that night, and how she doesn't have a bedroll and he has. He remembers how he moved beside her and pulled her close to him. He remembers how he wrapped his arms around her, and how she held on to his shoulders. He remembers how she buried her face in his chest. He remembers how he buried his face in her hair, and how he kissed her cheek when he thought she was asleep.
—
He remembers how they agreed on her getting their pack from the Cornucopia and how he'll circle the perimeter for the other tributes, especially Fire Girl. He remembers how he instictively pulled her close in a tight hug, how he kissed her softly after that. He remembers how he touched the splatter of dark freckles across her nose. He remembers how she smiled at him after, and how she whispered, "I'll see you soon, Cato."
—
He remembers how the girl from Five caught his attention. He remembers how he followed her, almost getting to her. He remembers how he had Five in a headlock, and with just a simple twist, her life would end. He remembers how he heard her scream for his name then, and he lost it. He let Five go and charge out to the Cornucopia. He remembers how he frantically prayed in his head that nothing bad happened to her, because he didn't know what he'd do if something terrible happened.
—
"Cato! CATO"
"CLOVE!"
He remembers how he saw 11 hit her with a rock no bigger than his hands, and then ran away with two packs in his hand, the other one labeled '2'. He remembers how with a few hits, she fell down, her breathing hard and uneven. He remembers seeing Fire Girl scramble her way out. He remembers kneeling down beside her, spear in his hand.
"Clove, Clove please stay with me." He begged her. "Clove I am so sorry. I'm so sorry for not being close enough to save you. I'm sorry for letting you get the pack alone. I'm sorry, I'm sorry." He repeated.
He remembers how she managed him a smile. He remembers as she looked up from the sky, and then to him. He remembers how it felt like to lose someone you've cared so much for so long. He remembers how the splatter of freckles on her face wasn't just across her nose, but it was all over her face, some he couldn't see because it was lighter than the others. He remembers how she coughed out blood, how he held her hand tightly, as if that gesture would somehow hold her lifeline longer. He remembers what her last words to him were.
"I'll see you soon, Cato."
—
He remembers how he killed 11, hoping that somehow, when he did, the pain in his chest would go away. He remembers how it didn't, and how he almost felt sorry for killing him. He had put on his full body armour, the item that was on his pack, one of the finest in the Capitol. It protected him from the neck downwards. He remembers how he held her supposed armour, how he held it close to him. He was just about to pick up his spear when he saw the mutts. He remembers seeing a mutt with dark brown fur and spots of light brown across its nuzzle, which reminded him of her.
—
He remembers how he killed Loverboy in a headlock, how he took Fire Girl by surprise. He remembers how he pushed her off the edge of the top of the Cornucopia. He remembers how the skies cleared, and how Claudius Templesmith announced him as Victor of the 74th Hunger Games.
—
He remembers now, sixty years later, how it would've felt if she were alive, if they managed to go home together. He remembers what her last words to him was, and how close he is to the 'soon'. He then closed his eyes, inhaled deeply, and remembered her beautiful face, with her freckles splattered all over her face. He remembered how she smelt; mint and home. He remembered how she made him feel, especially with that one and only kiss they managed to share with each other. He leaned back down against his rocking chair. He closed his eyes and waited for his final breath before whispering,
"I love you, and I'll see you soon, Clove."
A/N: Sorry for any typographical and grammatical errors. Reviews please! Thank you! :)
Love always, Clatobelles