Clove's heart was pounding. That never happened; she almost liked to think she didn't have a heart. That she was a machine, a ruthless, feelingless machine that never had to fear because she brought fear. But she was almost scared. Or maybe it was the adrenaline. It didn't matter. That girl was on her list, and she planned to be able to cross out her name just like the others she'd disposed of. Of course fate wouldn't have that. So when she finally caught up to the girl on fire, she didn't kill her like she'd planned. She kissed her.

She wasn't sure why. Or, for that matter, why the girl had kissed her back at all. At the realization of what she'd done, she didn't even scuffle with Katniss. She turned tail and ran. Clove was so confused. It didn't make any sense to her. None of it did. She stopped running and halted, panting, hands on her knees and moved to lean against a tree, taking out her knife to run a finger along the blade. She shouldn't let herself dwell on the things she didn't understand. She pressed a little too hard on the blade, drawing her finger back quickly as a thin line of blood appeared on it. Not understanding hurt like that did. Clove liked to think of herself as all knowing, and though that many times wasn't the whole truth, often times she knew the answers. At least to the simple things.

Killing was easy. Killing was a simple thing. She knew that. She could kill with a single knife, she could draw it out as long as she wanted or make it as quick as she wished. But Katniss hadn't been like that. She hadn't even been at the end of her knife. Clove didn't have time for this. She had the Games to win, and whatever this was wasn't making it easy.

She slipped her knife back up her sleeve and looked around. She hadn't realized it, but somehow running away from Katniss she'd gotten a nosebleed and it had trickled down her face, already crusty from the heat. She ran her sleeve over it and a few flakes of dried blood fluttered from her face. She had some water on her and a pack, she'd be fine away from the other Careers for a while. She wasn't even sure she wanted to go back. They were below her intelligence wise, anyways, and she could definitely kill at least half. Maybe all of them if Cato didn't suspect anything.

Clove licked the blood from her finger and wiped it off on her pants, standing up and glancing around before deciding which direction to head.

It wasn't long before night fell and she took a sip from her canteen, which she'd had the sense to fill before. She ducked behind a tree as she heard the sound of a twig snapping and in a few moments she saw the bright light of a newborn fire light up, which made her own face light up as she let a knife slide out from her sleeve. The person who had started the fire was a girl, young as far as she could tell. She readied her knife, drawing it back. The other Careers wouldn't get this kill, she would. She let loose the knife and it stuck dead on target, sinking into the girl's skull. She put out the fire best she could and pulled her knife out of the girl's head, cleaning it on the dead tribute's clothing and then rifling through her pack.

The pack contained a couple granola bars which Clove took quickly and a small pack of matches which she also took. Other than that was nothing of use to her. She kicked the dead girl's body over so that the bleeding part of her would be on the ground and turned away, deciding to find somewhere a little further away from the remains of the fire, just in case anyone else saw smoke.

She glanced down at her hands and felt the familar adrenaline rush. The thrill of the kill. It would be there for a while, Clove knew. She sighed; she knew she shouuld sleep, but she wasn't sure how she was supposed to. She sat down below a tree, leaning back and staring at the artificial sky. Clove heard something and quickly drew her knife again, jumping up to crouch instead of sitting and looked around, suddenly more alert than before. She could hear the sound of someone breathing, ever so quiet and another rustle of fabric and she looked up, seeing just barely something on a branch. She felt her heart jump and she felt sick. It had to be Katniss.

She put the handle of her knife in her mouth and began to climb. She could hear Katniss's breath speed just a little as she hauled herself up to straddle the thick branch.

"Hey, Lover Girl." Clove spoke with a mocking edge she didn't necessarily feel. She tilted her head just slightly, dropping her knife into her hand. She could make out Katniss' face in the moonlight, though not etremely clearly. The light reflected in her grey eyes and Clove pushed down the urge to move closer, bracing herself with one hand on the bark. "How're you feeling, hmm?"

"What are you doing here? I'm not dead yet." Katniss spoke and Clove swore she looked like she was blushing

Clove wasn't sure how to answer that. She wasn't didn't know, either. So she shrugged.

"You're oddly fun to tease. Kind of cute. So whenever your death comes I might miss that. But whatever."

"Excuse me?"

Clove let out a small smirk and shook her head. Katniss hadn't broken her gaze yet.

"I'm just saying, it's a pity you have to die."

"Yeah, and yet I'm literally unable to leave the tree, and you haven't made any move against me."

She shrugged at Katniss' words and rolled her eyes. "Not as much fun to kill when there's not a chance of escape. If I killed you now, while you're strapped down with nothing to defend yourself with, that'd be too boring."

"You'd only be one step closer to winning, wouldn't you?"

"So what?"

"You wanted to be the victor so badly before the start of this. What's changed?"

"Nothing's changed, I still am going to win. I just don't feel like killing in such a low way. I have pride."

"As much as I'm sure yo-" Katniss was cut off by the boom of a canon. It wouldn't be long until they saw the tribute's faces in the sky. Clove looked up as the anthem began to play. She saw the girl she'd killed, a few other tibutes, and last, the face of Peeta Mellark.

Katniss stared hard at the branch of the tree after glancing to the sky. Clove wanted to say something, but she felt like wasn't allowed to comfort her. There were eleven people left in the arena, thirteen had died that day. She bit her lip hard.

"Did you really like him, too?" Clove nearly jumped out of the tree. She hadn't wanted to ask that.

Katniss looked up from the bark. "I really don't know." She finally said. She didn't sound like she was crying. It sounded like she felt almost guilty.

"What's wrong, Lover Girl?" Clove's voice was softer than before, less mocking.

Katniss was quiet, her eyes locked with Clove's for a long time. Finally she untied the rope around her waist and pulled her legs out of the sleeping roll. She moved so that her legs were straddling the tree brach, much like Clove was and then she moved herself forward until their knees touched.

Clove glanced down at where their legs touched, then back to Katniss' face. The girl bit her lip and Clove blinked once, about to say something when Katniss leaned forward and kissed her, and Clove was sure that Katniss really was the girl on fire because her lips burned and tingled when they met with the other girl's. This time Clove didn't run. After a moment, Katniss pulled away and murmured.

"That."

Clove brought a hand to her own lips and grazed them with her finger tips. "I don't know what you're doing..."

"I don't know what you mean."

"To me. I don't know what you're doing to me. I don't want to kill you, and I'm supposed to."

"I don't want to kill you either..."

"There's only supposed to be one victor. One who gets out. This isn't allowed to happen."

"Maybe it can."

Clove looked away and stuck her knife hard into the wood, shaking her head just slightly. She didn't want to admit to anything. Especially that she had the smallest glimmer of hope, which was completely and utterly ridiculous. She knew there was no fucking way that anything was going to happen. At all. The Capitol would make sure of it. It didn't matter that there were still nine other tribute if she didn't count herself and Katniss. Because even if they managed to survive together, the Gamemakers would pit them against each other. Kill one of them, even.

She took in a shuddering breath; for some reason, the idea of them killing Katniss disturbed her deeply. There was something about the girl, she still couldn't put her finger on it. She liked her. And if there was one thing Clove did not do, it was feel. She grit her teeth before looking up at Katniss again. She was still looking at her with this intense look, her eyes not watery but still soft in some way. And Clove hated how it made her insides practically melt, and made her smile just a tiny bit.

So Clove let out a small, "Maybe."

Even if she knew they didn't have a chance.