Short, semi-fluffy one-shot of the magic that is Clato ;) Went to go see THG again and realized how much of an epic couple they'd make if they'd lived. Don't get me wrong, Peenis is great and all, but Alex and Isabelle are amazing actors that made me want their characters to end up together. So here it is!
She loved him. That much she knew. And god she hated herself for it. That stupid boy, that man, damn him. Damn that body, built after years and years of training. Damn those eyes, the ones that seemed to pierce everything in sight. The ones that were practically viewing her soul right now.
She glares at him and his stupid smirk, turning back to her knifes. No one even comes near her when she's over here. Mostly because they're frightened of her, she did nearly take a boy's head off when she was only 7. People never seem to forget that sort of thing. She's in so much peace, serenity, as she runs her fingers over the handles of her blades. She doesn't even notice his presence until she hears him.
"Hey doll face, you wanna practice?" he says. She doesn't look up at him, ignoring the feeling she gets when he uses the silly pet name for her.
"Don't make me stab you." She threatens. He chuckles, picking up the closest knife on the table, testing it over in his hand before forcefully throwing it at a target. He misses the bulls eye, but he's pretty good for mostly training with a sword. She lets out a curt laugh, looking up at him.
He rolls his eyes in that arrogant manor he has. "Whatever." He mumbles. She smirks at him, one he gratefully returns. He aches for these types of reactions he can get out of her. The cocky and fun girl he fell in love with. The bell rings throughout the training facility, signaling that they can go home. She starts putting away her knives neatly in her holder. Her babies, her prize possessions.
Nearly everyone has cleared out by now leaving just the two of them. Cato takes this opportunity to graze his fingers lightly over her bare arm. He watches her freeze, the light pink blush rise to her cheeks. He removes his fingers and she thinks she's free from his will. He starts to walk away but she feels the breath of his whisper against her ear.
"My place. 8:00 o'clock." He says. His lips barely graze over the shell of her ear and then he's gone. Vanishing out the door and leaving her to ponder his words. She regains her composure and finishes with her knives, grabbing the one Cato threw as well. When she's done with her task she's the only one left. Even the instructors have ventured back to their homes. Only then she lets out a shaky breath, the one she's been holding in since he came near her. The one she can't bear to let anyone see.
She's staring at her clock, watching it tick by the minutes until it says 7:55. As soon as it strikes, she climbs and maneuvers her way out the window, jumping, until landing on the ground with a soft thud. She smiles to herself before taking off in the darkness to his place.
When she gets there, she's nervous. It's stupid. She knows this; she doesn't get nervous. But he makes her this way, enough to make her want to hate him, but enough to make her miss it when it's gone. She never gets that feeling. Only when it has to do with him.
She scales the tree in his back yard easily then tossing a rock at his window. The lights flicker on in his room and the window opens. She sucks in a breath, seeing his naked torso and bright eyes. He extends one of those muscular arms to which she reaches out. He helps through his window, steadying her when she almost falls over.
"Hey." He says. She looks up at him, letting herself smile when his hands find her waist. She feels so tiny when he's near her. She makes the first move; she always does when they're together like this; alone. Her lips find his eagerly, and she threads her fingers in the shortness of his blond hair, tugging him closer. Only now he lets her be in control.
And he loves it, how such a small girl can have so much power. He picks her up off the ground by the waist so she can reach him better, making her wrap her legs around him. He moves backwards as her tongue massages his, falling back into a sitting position on the bed. Her lips remove from his only to kiss his jaw, down to his neck, then biting lightly at his collar bone.
"Are your parents' home?" she asks breathily against his skin. His hands find them hem of her shirt, hiking it over her head. He kisses her again, short, but mostly just because he needs to feel her again.
"No." he answers, going back to her lips. He can feel her smirk against him.
"Good, cause I want to scream." She whispers across him. He flips her over, pining her to his mattress. As much as she loves to be in control, he knows she loves this more. Being dominated. She draws out a moan when his hands start to cup her breasts over her bra. His lips suck on her pulse point, then down her neck, leaving a trail of his mark across her ivory skin.
She takes it upon herself to unhook her bra and he immediately tosses the garment away, staring at her naked chest before meeting her eyes again. "Your beautiful." He mumbles against her lips. Her one hand tugs his head further against her, groaning when he twists and tugs her nipples. She unbuttons her pants, arching her back to remove the garment.
Somewhere between their heavy making out of clashes of tongues and lips, Cato stops. She peers at him oddly wondering what's going through that head of his. She didn't expect him to caress her face, so gently as if she weren't trained to kill and she was made of the finest glass. His lips merely peck hers, lingering for only a moment.
"I love you." He tells her. He opens his eyes to find her staring at him. He's pretty sure she looks relived, surprised, but as if a huge weight was lifted off her shoulders. She finally smiles, kissing him again.
"God, Cato, I love you too." She breathes. He smiles back, kissing her again and again until she lets out a string of giggles like wind chimes. He kisses her cheeks, her nose, every part of that beautiful face he so desperately wants to show appreciation for.
That night they make love, whisper sweet nothings to each other, open up in ways no other person would ever guess these two people were capable of. They are killers, prepared for battle, to bring wealth and glory to their district. But right now that doesn't matter, all that matters is them.
She's curled up against him like a cat when she tells him. His heart nearly stops in his chest when he hears her words. "I have to volunteer tomorrow." She says. It's so low he thinks he's imagining it. But her head cranes up from his chest to view his eyes. "Cato?" she said. One of her eyebrows arched up and she's frowning.
"Then so do I." he said back to her. She sat up off him, placing a hand for support on his torso. The look of pure fear in her eyes was even able to be seen in the utter darkness of his room. She starts shaking her head back and forth automatically.
"No, Cato, no." she cries softly. Her eyes are watering, the feeling so foreign to her. She hasn't cried since she lost her brother in the games. Even then she didn't feel this much pain.
"Clove, I have to. I can't let you go in there alone." He argues. "I can protect you." His hand comes up to touch her cheek, to which she sighs against. Her eyes close and she relishes the feel of his rough skin against her face.
She can't lose him. "No. I can take care of myself." She retorts softly. "I won't let you die for me. If that happened. If you-" she breathes. "Die. I'd- I wouldn't be able to come back. It'd be worse than dying itself."
She starts crying again and he pulls her against him, letting her bury her head against his shoulder blade. He whispers to her that it will be okay, they'll be okay. She feels so vulnerable she lets herself believe that everything will work in their favor.
She volunteers. Just like planned. That's it isn't it? All a part of the plan? The big picture? Other girls tried to volunteer over her, but she gets picked, probably saving that young girl from her death. She's never going to forget the twelve-year-olds face. Her frightened eyes, and panic. She saved her. Did something good before she has to go off and kill all these other children.
The overly obese woman with dark blue skin and wild pink hair picks out the boy's name. It's someone she never heard of, which isn't uncommon, it's a big district. But Cato's hand shoots up, his loud and bellowing voice drowning out all other volunteers. Damn him. Damn the boy with the big blue eyes.
Finished for now, let me know if you want me to contiune it! :)
Lots of love.
