Summary: The night before the Games start, Clove and Cato have a conversation which leads to an admission of love and a fiery kiss. Drabble-fic.
Disclaimer: Belongs to Collins.
~HG~
"Both of us aren't going to come out of this alive", says Clove, her voice softer than I've ever heard it before. I didn't know she was capable of speaking in low tones.
I look at her. "I know", comes my hoarse reply. "I know."
Tomorrow is the day we walk in to the arena, walk in to the Hunger Games. Tomorrow we start a battle for our lives, find ways to kill the other tributes and make our district proud. It's a strange emotion referring her and myself as 'we' because we're not that. We're two tributes from the same district. Nothing more, nothing less.
The Games aren't a team or pair effort. It's a one person job. Twenty four people enter and only one exits as victor.
I'll exit as victor. I'm prepared for this, I've ruthlessly trained for this and I know that I'm ready to face anything that comes in front of me. So is she but at the end of it all, she'll still be dead and it won't matter anymore.
Except maybe to me. I shake my head. Why am I thinking like this? I'm not supposed to get sentimental. I'm not supposed to have some sort of feelings for her.
"Cato?" she says my name and my heart pounds furiously in my chest.
"What?" I say coolly, trying not to let her know that she has an effect on me.
"I love you."
At that point, I know my heart stops beating completely. This girl- who will die soon enough- loves me. "You don't mean that", I say more harshly than I intended to.
She rolls her eyes. "It wouldn't kill you to say it back. I know you feel the same."
Guess this means I haven't perfected the art of hiding the truth. "What makes you say that?"
She places her hand on my bicep and inches forward until she's directly facing my face. "Everything", she whispers before crashing her lips down on mine with a fierce passion.
This wasn't supposed to happen but it did. This is just another unfair part of life. Would it really be that difficult to believe that I, with my stony heart and desire to win in a game of bloodshed and killing, am in love?
Don't they say love is unstable, terrifying and most importantly, dangerous? I'm not sure but that applies to me.
I love you too, Clove, I think in my mind but don't say it out loud. After all, it won't make a difference any way. She's still going to be killed and I'm not that noble to sacrifice myself to ensure her survival.
Love is also selfish.
~HG~
A/n: Different, dontcha think? This is a side of Cato that we didn't get to see but was possibly there. Hope you enjoyed. What did you think of this?