A/N: This was requested by and co-written with Batmarcus, or the first bit was. I don't own HG. This came out a bit differently than I had originally intended, but okay, here ya go.

Shout

Clove's POV

He smiled so easily, he was funny too. His blonde locks caught the artificial sun's rays and reflected them brightly. He was a bad choice for an ally, seeing as he was as easy to see as a neon pink sign.

I forced myself to look away from loverboy. He would never notice me. That Katniss had assured that. But he's our best way of finding her. Maybe when she's dead he'd notice me.

But this infatuation I had with him, this obsession I had with his blonde curls, the way his nose twitched when he slept, the way he held his head when he rolled over – it had to stop, because I knew it would hurt when he died. Just like it hurt to say goodbye to Yolik.

I had no plans of dying, and I would kill him if I had to.

He reminded me of Yolik. He was the boy back in district that had my heart. I toyed with the ring on my fourth finger on my left hand. He'd asked me to marry him. Before I was reaped. No one volunteered. It didn't come as much of a surprise, either, I was the fiercest bitch in district 2, and they were scared of me.

Not Yolik. He was as cocky as I was. He was a carbon copy of loverboy, or loverboy was a carbon copy of him. In appearances, anyway, their personalities differed like day and night. Either way, loverboy's appearance made my stomach flutter and I didn't like it.

Yolik had been reaped too. But after stepping on Cato's toes (he'd been standing next to me), Cato volunteered in his place. Cato had always been fond of me, I was like his annoying twin sister; he just had to love me.

So, when I asked this, he relented. Neither of us even thought that I'd be reaped. Yet, when my name was announced, I ran to the stage, as if excited and the prospect of getting myself killed was the best thing in the world. Hoping against hope that someone would volunteer for me.

No one did.

Yes, I admit it: I had a small crush on the boy from district 12, who, in turn, was smitten with the girl from his district – who clearly had no emotions or feelings to share with him. Oh, sure, they pretended to be in love, but I knew love when she saw it, and what they had, certainly wasn't love. It was a lie. One big lie.

Unlike what I had with Yolik.

When I was reaped, he didn't say a word. He was the only who came to say goodbye to me. That had been the first time I'd seen him cry. He was always smiling, always sparring with me because no one else would.

"I won't make you promise to come back," He said, kissing me lightly, "but it'd be great if you did."

"I'll try," I swore to him, knowing that I'd have to keep my promise to Cato too. Cato and I had made the deal the previous day, and I had thought we wouldn't have a need for it. The irony struck me right between the eyes. It was if I'd jinxed us.

"I love you, Clove," Yolik said, pulling me close. I could hear his heart beating erratically, I took a deep whiff of his smell; earthy and strong (I didn't know how in the name of Panem anything could smell strong, but he did) and like wildflowers and peppermint. He was eighteen; he wouldn't have to worry next year about being chosen.

"I love you too, Yolik," I replied.

I stood up, eager to rid myself of the memories, fetching some wood from a nearby pile, seeing as the flames were small and almost ready for us to put the dead creature – I didn't know what it was, Glimmer had killed it. I chose a bunch too big for me to carry, too cocky to choose elsewise, but I soon realised my mistake as I buckled under its weight.

"You wanna help there, loverboy?" I snarled, throwing the thicket at him. He caught it easily, carrying it the rest of the way. He really was strong. The way his biceps flexed fascinated me. They didn't attract me to him, because I grew up in a district where muscle tissue was as easy to come by as coal in their district, but his muscles were different than I'd describe Cato's. Cato's looked manmade, plastic, which, if you thought about it, it was; it was built in a gym. While loverboys' muscles clearly came from hard work.

Yolik didn't have muscles. I think that was why I loved him. Or one of the reasons. Yolik was unlike the others in district 2, he didn't care what anyone thought, safe for me, and with his lack of muscles he still dared to face my knives – it helped that his lithe body was impossibly fast.

In district 2, we got married at a young age. In the old days, I believe teenaged romances were frowned upon, but in the days before those days, they were as common as they were now.

"You know, I don't why you hate me so much." He said, setting the wood down. Cato and the others had left us to set up camp while they tried to hunt down firegirl. Not that they'd find her and kill her unless she really wanted to be killed.

He made a small fire - we were cooking the food and would be out of there before nightfall.

"That's because you're incredibly daft and blinded." I sneered, rolling my eyes. The fact of the matter was that I didn't hate him. As has been stated, I like him. More than I should, he reminded too much of Yolik, and I know using him to fill the gap was selfish.

"Oh, I'm daft am I?" He said with an uncharacteristic smirk as he prodded the wood into the fire with his foot. He must be used to hot temperatures.

"I thought I made that obvious." I crossed my arms angrily; it was hard to put this up for the cameras. But I had to. I wanted throw myself into his arms and sob my cold heart out, revealing everything I was, all my fears and hopes and wishes to him.

But I'm not that stupid.

"Well, your thought process is not exactly great," He said. I turned my gaze on him slowly, ready to maul and masticate and mutilate him, as well as every other 'm' word associated with violence.

"Oh, says the boy who loves a girl with the emotional range of a piece of grass. I'm sorry; I didn't mean to offend the grass," I spat nastily. This was who I am, mean and egotistic and, as the people in the old days would say, a bitch. That was quite a popular word in district 2, especially when directed at me.

"At least I know what love is," He sneered. That hit me right in the gut, like a knife had been thrust into my stomach (and, trust me, as a career and trainee to kill whoever passed by me, I have actually felt a knife thrust into my abdomen in training).

"You think I don't know what love is?" I demanded icily, moving as fast as lightning and with such agility that loverboy hadn't seen this coming, I pushed him up against the nearest tree with as much force as I could possibly muster, "The only reason Cato is here is because I asked him to, because the boy I loved was reaped, but Cato volunteered for him, because he wasn't ready. I will everything in my power to ascertain that Cato wins, because that was our deal. And if Cato dies, I will win and go back to him, because I know what real love feels like, whereas you and firegirl are putting up a farce!"

Peeta quickly turned the tables on me, the next thing I knew, I was the one being pushed against the tree. He was stronger than I was, that was for sure.

"A farce? I'm willing to die for her, Clove, I love her more than I love my own life," He leaned closer, to whisper something that only I could hear, and the cameras wouldn't be any wiser, "I'm willing to make an alliance with a bunch of lunatics to make sure she gets out of this alive," He breathed into my ear. I had to fight to keep my expression neutral.

"Then we reach an agreement," I whispered back, "I'll keep your secret, if you keep mine. I won't kill you," Wait, I couldn't live up to that promise, "Unless you were the last person standing, then I'd have to kill you."

. . .

A/N: I have no idea what inspired this, but yeah, here it is. I know it's short, but, as promised, a oneshot. A tidbit of insight on Clove. And if you were giggling at the name Yolik, I don't blame you. I told Batmarcus to choose a letter after I chose Y, he chose O, so I chose L, he chose I, and I ended with a K.

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