Swords Clashing, Hearts Shattering
A/N: Hey everybody! So, new one shot for ya'll! I've had this in my writing journal for awhile, but I was being too lazy to upload it. Also, I feel more Clato.
A lone wind streams across the asphalt, shoving the crinkled brown leaves away from the ground. They brush across her feet, and she lifts her leather covered foot, crushing the leaf. Clove Sevina lifts her boot, waiting. Watching. It was nearly six 'o clock, and she was beginning to question his intentions.
"Where is that little son of a bitch?" she wonders aloud, watching the entrance of the lot. Wondering if her challenger will ever show up. It's been an hour since the affirmed duel time, 5 'o clock. It was the chilly month of October, training season. Tensions were high in the training schools of District 2, as it's only a mere couple of months before the reaping. Every student longed for the chance to bring glory to District 2 From the youngest student to the eldest, they all glorify the deaths they would bring with their swords or their knives. Fights broke out in the hallways more often, and students were becoming increasingly competitive. It was rare, these days, to see a student without a swelling bruise or an oozing cut. Clove herself sported 12, honor badges from her duels. Out of 13, she hasn't lost one.
Her calloused thumb ran itself carefully over the cold metal of her favorite knife. Her supposed oppressor was being a coward, which is somewhat a shock, as he was the top student in the entire male category of the school. Cato Hadley, 18, is a tall, intimidating brute. His cold grey eyes would intimidate even the instructors. All the female tributes ravishes him, and all the male tributes spoke in spite behind his back. Clove hated him particularly, as he belittled her and underestimated her due to her size. Size is never an estimate of strength. She had deadly accuracy and a blood thirsty attitude. She's one to be feared, one to never be underestimated, so it was no surprise. She was the first person to accept Cato's challenge, after all the other tributes refused. Even Mason Fields, the second to best student, is afraid of him. She remembered the cold sneer on Cato's face when she accepted, a couple of days ago.
"Be there on time," his husky voice had said, "Or you're a coward, just like every other little pussy in this place." She had squared her jaw and accepted, though, the tension in the room was had gotten so high, that the instructors had left the room. As soon as they did, though, she remembers Cato relaxing his jaw, his face losing some of that coldness, as he offered his hand.
"Good luck, though." She sneered at him, and coldly turned away. "You can have your luck. Luck is for the losers." That was three days ago.
As she stood, she realized her breath was shortening, coming in quick little gasps. She quickly shook her head, "What the fuck is up with you?" she asks herself, "He's probably forfeited, the little cowardly, showoff, bast-"
"Watch what you say, Clovely." Her words were taken out of her mouth as a tall, looming figure appeared across the lot. Her eyes widened, as she felt her slight body go slack, as she was nearly face to face, Cato Hadley. His icy eyes scrounged her body, analyzing every little flaw . His hand held tightly onto the handle of of his wickedly long sword. It was obviously stolen from the training center. She recovered from his sudden appearance, and felt a smirk emerge on her face.
"Somebody got a little scared?" she taunts, each word tinted with anger.
"I was busy, you know," he says casually, "Little ladies like you throwing themselves at me."
Anger surged through her system, her grip tightening on the dagger she held close to her, "You busy pleasuring them?" she asks.
"Naturally," his cold smirk reaches his eyes as he held his sword to duel, "So, Clovely. You jealous?"
"Please," she replies, lifting her head to throw her knife. He suddenly broke into laughter, and charged, sword in hand. She felt her shoulders tense, as instead of slashing and stabbing her, he drops his sword. The sword clatters to the ground, as he pulls something from his pocket, and though it was too quick to see what is was, her hand reaches up to catch it, or even to deflect it, whatever it was . A sudden crunch reaches her ear as the object landed itself in her hand. She flinches, ready to see blood, but instead, it was something indeed red, but something worse then blood.
A Rose.
A beautiful red rose, something straight out of the Capitol. Clove was simply in awe, staring at the strange beauty. Girls like her didn't get roses. Acquiring a flower in District 2 was nearly impossible She felt tears string her eyes, the meaning of a rose being recalled in her mind. It meant romance. So many boys had she repelled, and they've never given her such a magnificent thing like this. Where the hell had he gotten it? And why the hell was he giving it to her? She stares up at him, seeing broken eyes staring right back into her own.
"I love you," he says gruffly, his voice timid but assertive. His face wasn't even red as he walks away, leaving her along, and nearly broken hearted on that lone lot of District 2.