His brows furrowed as he watched her. Her calm demeanor and the precision of which she threw her knives; they weren't just knives, it was as though they were alive and flying and dancing in the air. His lips pressed together firmly as he watched, almost envious of how much attention she received from the instructors because she was the new favourite. He was favourite once.
All this watching he did while sparring with an opponent of his own who was not nearly as skilled as he was and would have already been beaten had it not been for him being distracted by her. He gave up on watching because it as the same thing over and over. She would flick her wrist so quickly it was a blur and the targets would get struck by blades that nearly penetrated through them completely. Turning back to his opponent, a boy of bigger build than he was but no way quick enough with his blade to survive if he ever got into a battle against another career in the games. Sure, he'd survive the initial struggle against the other, weaker districts, but near the end, when it was just the careers fighting their own brutal battle, a million shooting stars of luck was what he needed to win.
As soon as training was over he jogged up to her, mouth opening to make a witty remark about the attention she was receiving but the words never made it out. They had decided to force themselves back the other way because he saw her up close and you couldn't possibly speak around her because her beauty had this way of stunning you into silence. But she had seen him now and they both stopped in the middle of the path. An eyebrow raised cockily, "Can I help you with something?" Her voice came out wasn't real couldn't be real because it was akin to that of a thousand angels all at once. And for the second time that day his lips pressed hard together to prevent him from saying something he'd regret.
There was a part of him that was his parents' child and it reprimanded him for being such a sap because that wasn't what a career was or ever could be. They were emotionless killing machines trained from the beginning to win or die. Winning was all Cato had ever known and the latter wasn't even a possibility in his realm but something new was inching its way into his world and it was feelings. He actually felt something when he saw her up close and it wasn't jealousy or anger but something fresh and tantalizing and he had no idea what it was.
Still, he hadn't said anything and she was becoming impatient and turned to leave him in the dust. Without realizing his hand shot out to grab her elbow and she turned back quickly and flipped him over out of instinct. The breath flew out of his lungs and his eyes were wide as they stared up at her. She stood above him cockily with a hand on her hip and an eyebrow raised just staring at him expectantly. His mind finally registered that for the first time he'd been bested and a incredulous grin crept onto his face as he quickly stood in an attempt to regain a little dignity. He found that he didn't mind being beaten as long as it was by her because for some reason she was worth it.
"So what's your name?" he finally spoke, sounding breathy because he still hadn't quite regained his breath. He watched as her expression crumpled into one of confusion which quickly flitted to curiosity and then just went neutral. "Clove," she said shortly before moving down the path again and this time he didn't stop her or move to follow.