A/N: Dedicated to my friend Cindy.

Five year old Clove Kravitz was hiding.

To be specific, she was hiding in a tree. Being even more specific, the hazel-eyed girl was hiding from her father, Denouement.

He'll never find me here, she thought naively, tucking her legs in so that they were not dangling from the branch she was sitting on. I won't get down until night time. I don't want Father to yell or hit me again. He doesn't like it when I cry. He'll hurt me even more, and I don't want that at all.

Clove had been on the verge of another crying fit. Who could blame her though? She was only five and already training for the Hunger Games. Her mother, Clementi, had made her throw one of those scary knives again. The little girl with raven-black hair didn't fully understand the concept of the games. Why did her mother want her to hurt people? She never asked these kinds of questions, though. Father said that her questions would be just a waste of time. Although, inside her young mind, Clove never really wanted to hurt anyone. It was just wrong…right?

Before she could contemplate this even further, the girl suddenly felt herself lose her hold on the tree. Before she knew it, the young child had fallen off the branch and landed painfully on the ground and bushes below her.

Six year old Cato Chambers had escaped from his home as well. Not because he was upset with his parents training him. No, it was just because he wanted to be alone for once.

As he leaned against a tree and read a favorite book of his, he heard the scream. The high-pitched scream of a girl who was possibly younger than even he himself. Very strange. What would a young girl be doing here as well?

The young boy immediately got to his feet and looked around, wildly turning round and round to find the source of the noise.

"Wh-Who's there?" he daringly called out, his voice somewhat shaky. The blue-eyed child soon heard faint sounds. The type of sounds a person usually makes if they were trying not to burst out crying. Cato cautiously made his way past a few trees and bushes. He continuously heard small whimpers and choked sobs.

Right there in front of him was a small girl clutching her knee. A girl whose long black hair covered her face like a curtain. She looked up, her eyes brimming with tears that were fighting to be forced back into her hazel eyes. Cato never remembered seeing such pretty eyes on a girl.

"Are you okay?" Cato simply asked, not always being good with words. As a matter of fact, he wasn't so great at helping people either. He slowly walked closer to Clove and kneeled down beside her.

The girl shook her head, feeling many tears slide down her face. She sniffled and then began to sob uncontrollably. Clove removed her hand away from her knee, revealing a few deep cuts and many scrapes.

The blonde cringed slightly at the gruesome sight. "Hold on. Stay here. I'll be back. I promise." He leaped to his feet and hurried off, leaving Clove alone. She didn't think he'd come back. No one ever did. Every time she tried to make a friend, she would never see that kid again. She was always used to being alone.

Soon, to her surprise, he returned.

Cato did, in fact, come back as promised. He was cradling a few items in his arms that he had nicked from his mother's special cabinet. The boy kneeled down once again and dropped the items on his lap.

"My mom has done this a lot of times when I got hurt. I think I'll be able to help you too," he said, picking up a cotton ball and soaking it in a liquid from the bottle he had also brought. Cato gently pried her hand away from her knee and pressed the soft material on the cuts and scrapes. Much to his dismay, Clove shed even more tears, looking even more pained than before.

"I-I'm sorry," he said quietly. "I know it hurts, but my mom said that if you don't use this, you can get infected with germs and stuff...but it'll go away after a while, I promise."

Another surprising thing happened. Cato slowly reached a small hand up and wiped away the tears falling from her eyes, drying away any sign that she had cried. He didn't like seeing this girl cry. He hated it, in all honesty. Not because he thought crying was a stupid thing to do, but because he was starting to care about the girl's feelings.

The next thing Clove knew, there were band-aids that had been gingerly placed by Cato covering all her injuries.

"Th-Thank y-you," the young girl finally managed to say, her tears coming to a halt. She smiled faintly up at Cato, whom she now seemed to adore. The handsome young boy smiled in return and stood up, helping her up as well.

"No worries. It was really easy," he said, scuffing his foot back and forth. Cato looked rather flustered. He didn't really talk to girls at all. He wasn't even sure if he had ever spoken to a girl other than his mother. "Um…can you walk?"

"I-I think so," Clove replied, taking a few careful steps. Her gaze then returned to him. "What's your name?" she suddenly asked, her hazel eyes showing obvious curiosity.

"Cato," he said simply.

"Cato," Clove repeated in a thoughtful voice. "Well, my name is Clove."

"It's nice to meet you, Clovey. Can I call you that?" Cato said, being such a polite little gentleman. He shook her hand, grinning broadly.

She smiled brightly and shook his hand in return. "Sure, you can call me Clovey. No one's ever given me a nickname before."

"Well, now you have one," Cato replied. He stared at her for a long while before saying, "I guess I'll see you around. I'm not supposed to be here, so I don't want to get you in trouble if my parents catch me here."

Her smile faltered a bit. "Oh," she said softly, attempting to hide her disappointment. "Okay, then. I'll see around, Cato. At least I hope I will."

"I hope so too, Clovey," Cato said in the same volume of voice. His smile had faded just as much as hers did. The blue-eyed boy took one last look at Clove's pretty hazel eyes before running off to hide and continue reading his book.

If he had known that would be the last time he would ever see her in quite a while, Cato would have never left.

If she had known that, Clove would have made him stay.

Years went by quickly.

Soon Clove found herself entering her first day at her district's high school.

As she walked down the hallway, the teen with black hair felt her books being knocked out of her hands.

"Knife freak!" someone shouted, running down the rest of the hallway. Clove glared daggers at the guy who had attacked her books, but she knew the rules: No injuring or killing anyone at school. She sighed and kneeled down to pick up her books. As Clove reached over for one book, the young woman felt a hand over hers. She looked up and saw an eerily familiar face.

A young man with bright, blue eyes.

"Here, let me help you pick these up," he said, quickly retracting his hand and picking up the rest of her books. She stood up, holding the one book and staring up at the boy's towering frame. He was like a giant compared to her, yet he had the face of an absolute angel. Clove abruptly felt these strange, butterfly feelings in her stomach.

"Thanks," she mumbled, hurriedly taking the books from his hands and not meeting his eyes.

"No worries. It was nothing," he replied, involuntarily rubbing the back of his neck. Cato studied the girl's face. It was very familiar, yet…not at the same time. When her eyes suddenly met his, he suddenly felt a brief pang of recognition. Who on earth was this girl? She just arrived here, didn't she? She was certainly very pretty, though. Beautiful actually. He could've sworn that he met her before.

The two teenagers stared at each other for the longest time.

"Well, I better get going," Cato blurted out, quickly realizing that he had to get to class. "I'll see you around…At least, I hope I do."

"Yeah, same here," Clove said, turning away once she felt the heat rise to her face. "So...well…goodbye then, and thanks for the help." She then walked off to her next class, Cato staring after her.

All he could think about was how pretty her hazel eyes were.

All she could think about was how amazing his blue eyes were.

If Cato had known that the next time he would ever talk to her would be in a game where kids were put in an arena to kill each other, he would have tried to convince her to run away with him.

She would have eagerly gone along.

If he had known that he was in love with this girl before she was killed, he would've never let her leave his side.

She would have never left his side in the first place.

When Cato did realize that he loved Clove, all he could do was sob hysterically and cradle her lifeless body.

Clove realized long ago that she was in love with Cato. All she wanted him to do now was hold her until she took her last dying breath.

Story inspired by this picture I saw:

Dear Cato,

Don't blame yourself for my death. We both went in knowing that one of us was going to die. I love you, Cato, forever. To me, you are still that six year old boy who dried my tears when I fell out of a tree. Don't ever forget me.

Love Always,

Clove