For Grace and her first place in the Boxing Day category of the Holly and Mistletoe Competition (Hunger Games ::: Contests and Character Chat)
"You're beautiful."
"What?"
"You're beautiful."
"Oh, you're cute. Now, do you want pork or beef for dinner?"
.
A "you're beautiful" is the closest Cato will ever get to an "I love you" and it sometimes hurts when she doesn't care.
Cato is laying his damn heart on the table and she brushes it off like it's a piece of lint. It's a good thing that his soul is only half-thawed, so it doesn't completely shatter when it hits the floor.
.
She likes fun, he learns, within the first few weeks after their gorgeous wedding that was celebrated by Caesar, the president (in his icy, indifferent way), and most of all, the district.
Who could blame them?
It's a special occurrence to see two people come out with their lives (but are they really alive?).
.
She sometimes laughs in her sleep. She doesn't know how fucking scary that laugh sounds in the midst of ebony and even darker shadows.
(She also says "firegirl" and "loverboy" and "red" and then laughs again, but Cato doesn't like to mention that. After all, he tries not to remember the things he doesn't want to.)
.
She sometimes acts like a normal girl. Like a wife. Like a lover.
Like when her stomach is round and protruding and gorgeous, and goddamn everything for having this happen because Cato doesn't want a fucking kid.
But she wants her daughter, so Cato lets her have it. (He can't handle two broken people in the house.)
.
Cato has hidden all of the knives, blunt and sharp.
He doesn't want to mention the moment ever again, but his chest has another ugly scar added to the collection. (He escaped death twice.)
.
Clove.
Cleave.
Cut.
Carve.
There goes his heart again. (But he's strong enough to piece himself back together.)
Thank you for reading.