Cato hates Clove.
He thinks it might be because of the way she excels at everything. She gets higher scores in their classes. She always hits the center of her targets.
He thinks it might be because she doesn't give a shit. About anything or anyone.
He thinks it might be because of the looks that she casts him. She eyes him like he's something curious for her to study and that maybe she likes what she sees.
He thinks it might be because of the way other boys glance at her and how she doesn't bother glancing back.
But most of all, he thinks it might be because he doesn't hate her. Not really.
When he volunteers, he isn't thinking about the glory he's going to bring his District. He isn't thinking about the fact that he might never make it back home. He's not thinking about the fact that he's going to have to kill other kids. No, he's nothing thinking about any of that.
He's thinking about the fact that he must get rid of his one weakness. Because Cato cannot have a weakness.
They've just boarded the train when she finally speaks to him.
Her eyes are shiny. It takes him a moment to realize that it's because of tears. "Why'd you have to go and do that?" Clove asks softly.
Cato cannot answer her. He wonders if maybe he should have given more thought to all of those looks she had cast his way.
Her tears remain unshed.
"We'll team up."
He says it one evening after they've finished training for the day.
She narrows her eyes at him. "Who says I want to do anything with you?"
Cato can't tell her the truth. She has to team up with him because he can't imagine her working with anyone else. He can't imagine anyone else killing her.
It has to be him. He won't be able to live with himself if it isn't him.
He will end her and he will do it beautifully. She deserves a beautiful death.
He never knew he could be so protective over someone he plans to kill.
"You know we'd be unstoppable together," is what he says.
She frowns for a long time. She should never frown. Finally she nods once in agreement and then heads to her room.
She is wearing her dress for her interview and she is stunning. He cannot look away.
His heart is beating faster than it should be and his breathing is shallow. This is exactly why she cannot exist. She makes him feel funny.
But he can no longer help himself.
When they're back in their accommodations he pushes her against the wall. He is not rough. He is not gentle. She stares up at him with those calculating eyes of hers before fisting a hand into his shirt.
She is challenging him.
He accepts.
Their lips meet and suddenly Cato cannot remember why he's here or what he's supposed to be doing. He just knows that she is the only thing that he will ever truly care about.
That's why she has to go.
They make a formidable team, just as he knew they would.
They spend the nights curled under the starry sky, protecting each other.
He's about to fall asleep when he feels someone stroking his hair away from his face.
"You have to die." She is whispering and he tries not to shiver. "And please don't think it's because I hate you." Her lips brush his temple. "It's far from that."
They have taken almost everyone else out.
The boy from District 12 is gone, but the girl is still around.
After they dispose of her it will be just the two of them.
He's not sure why they've decided to face off now. He thinks it's because they both know that if they don't then they'll just be prolonging the inevitable.
Clove's eyes are shiny again.
Cato has taken two of her knives; there's one in his leg and another in his shoulder. But he overtakes her by sheer force.
She is not afraid. Of course she isn't. He would expect nothing less. His hands are on her throat and he can't help but notice that her skin is smooth underneath his fingers.
He is shaking. One jerk, that's all it would take. One quick twist and he will have broken her. She will fall to the ground and she will be no more.
But he has hesitated too long and they both know it.
She doesn't move to get out of his grasp and that's what hurts him the most.
He steps away, an apology on his lips.
Her movements are as sharp as the knives she wields. He let her go; therefore he gave up his claim. Suddenly there are three more knives in his chest and he chuckles.
"I'm sorry," she says, and by the way her voice cracks he didn't need to snap her neck in order to break her.
"I hope you win," he gasps before he falls.
He dies before he sees the arrow embed itself into her throat.
A/N: I promise that happier Clato fic is coming, but for now...yeah.
I hope everyone enjoyed and please remember to review!