A/N: So I've been writing on this site for a year today and I wrote this a while ago and thought I should post it. I don't know. It was one of those spur of the moment things. Read if you want. Don't feel obligated to review.
Cato was eight years old when he realised he was in love with his best friend. It wasn't like a slap in the face realisation, more like a reminder that he acknowledged one day when they were playing.
Of course he didn't do anything about his feelings until he was fourteen. He had pulled her aside one day, under the large willow tree that grew a few blocks away from their school and he asked her to be his girlfriend. Luckily for him, she said yes.
Sadly, they never had a first date or a first kiss because less than two days later Clove's father was driving drunk and got into an accident. He managed to kill himself, his wife and their son. Clove barely lived and slipped into a coma, no one knew if she would ever wake up.
Cato remembered how his heart stopped when he called Clove the net day, wondering why she wasn't at school, only to have a doctor answer her phone and tell him what had happened. He remembered how his heart broke when he saw her laying on the hospital bed, broken and bloody. Most of all, her remembered the sound of her heart monitor, letting off a steady beat and telling him that she was indeed alive, that she could still come back to him.
He made her a promise that day. He promised her he'd always be there. He promised her that he'd come by every day and see her. He promised her that he would be the first person she'd see when her emerald eyes finally opened.
He stayed by her side for a month, hoping that she'd wake up. He barely left her bedside until his parents forced him to go to school. No one talked to him much and he was glad. The hours ticked by but finally the last bell rang and he was at Clove's bedside again. He told her about his day while he did his homework. He told her anything and everything that crossed his mind. Before he left, he kissed her forehead and told her he'd see her tomorrow.
He did that every day for three years. It was the same routine and he wasn't sure if he'd ever tire of it. He had become acquainted with the hospital employees and a few patients. The hospital was like his second home.
It wasn't until exactly three years after Clove's family's death that he walked into the room to find Clove's sister sitting in his usual chair. She told him she was out of money, she couldn't pay the medical bills, she was taking Clove off life support. Clove had one more day to wake up or she never will. Cato protested but she just walked out, leaving him alone with Clove to say their last goodbyes.
He cried, for the first time since Clove went under he cried. He just laid on the bed with her, holding her and begging her to stay with him, to open her eyes, but she didn't.
His heart broke as he stood up to leave, to leave her forever. He kissed her lips lightly, their first kiss, and turned to leave. He knew he couldn't look back, no matter how much he wanted to. He was almost out of the room before he heard the voice.
It was the voice he heard everyday on her answering machine. The one he pays her call phone bill to hear. Her voice.
"Cato?"
He turned around to see Clove's green eyes looking into his own blue ones. He grinned, tears of joy flowing from his eyes and down his cheeks and he tackled her in a hug.
They spent the rest of that night in each others arms, talking as if they did everyday over the past three years. Cato told her everything that happened and Clove listened, happy to be in the boy's arms.