Author's Note: Sometimes Tumblr makes me a hardcore Clato shipper when really I should not be focusing on how ships make me sob hysterically, but on my growing homework pile.

Oh well; you Clato shippers appreciate me, don't you? ;_;

Jealous
a Hunger Games (© Suzanne Collins) fanfiction

Clove is not someone who gets jealous.

And why should she be? She's one of the quickest in all of District 2, her knife skills are envied by people twice her age and three times her size, and she's a Career tribute - which means she's certain to win the 74th Hunger Games.

Clove is not someone who gets jealous, so she's not quite sure what she's dealing with when her stomach churns at the sight of Cato and Glimmer together. She's not sure what the constricting feeling in her chest is when she sees the smiley tribute from District 1 place a hand on his arm, when he grins down at her in return. She's not sure what she's doing when she finds herself glaring after the duo as they head down the hallway together after the interviews.

When she glances over at the boy from District 1, and when she sees the sullen - almost pathetic - expression on his face, and when she realizes she's making the same face, she knows.

"You look happy," she states frankly when he walks in for dinner, bearing a grin that stretches across his face. She stabs through her steak with a little more fervor than usual.

"You look like you're ready to kill," he replies, more teasing than mocking, as he takes the seat across from her. She smiles at him, and even though it's sarcastic he returns it.

"Negotiations with Glimmer are coming along well?" their mentor asks, interrupting their banter.

Clove's head raises at this, and she shoots a questioning glance in the blond tribute's direction; he doesn't even look at her. "Negotiations with Glimmer? What are you talking about?"

Their mentor almost looks annoyed by the question, as though she has no place asking, but the flickering irritation in the knife wielder's eyes keeps him from saying anything. Cato, however, has no qualms about informing her of the plan. "An on-screen romance between two Careers. It worked well enough for the lovers in District 12, so why not give ourselves a little boost as well?" He's grinning again, and she's never had a stronger urge to cut it off. "A tragic love story between two Careers, each from a different district - the Capitol will love it!"

"You look like you're enjoying it, too." She doesn't mean to sound as spiteful as she actually does, but when she notices, it's too late.

Cato's eyebrows shoot up towards his hairline. Then, the corners of his lips curl upwards slyly. "What's the matter, Clove?" he croons. "Jealous?"

Before he can even really finish the word, her steak knife is embedded into the visible strip of wood between himself and his plate. When she gets up and dismisses herself without a word, their mentor sighs and shakes his head, muttering something about hormonal teenagers.

Cato, while mildly shocked at the reaction, grins.

Later that night, Clove is returning from a short trip to the kitchen when she hears a familiar giggle from around the corner. She steps into the hallway just in time to see Glimmer inching out of Cato's room, with her arms wrapped teasingly around his neck. "I should go," she whispers alluringly, tugging him down to her. Before they can do anything (or anymore), Clove clears her throat.

"Yeah, you should probably go," she suggests, in a tone that refuses to be questioned.

Both blondes reel back, though Glimmer looks much more frightened than Cato; he's just grinning, as usual. "Oh, Clove," the older female greets, trying to smile congenially. "Sorry, I was just asking Cato a question about our strategy." When Clove says nothing, only staring at her stonily, Glimmer quietly slips away, waving her fingers flirtatiously at Cato when she's sure that Clove can't see.

"Doing some preparation for your love story?" Again, the question is much more spiteful than she plans, but by now the two are already aware that her feelings for the operation are less than accepting. "Some early research?"

He leans against the door frame coolly as he folds his arms across his chest, completely unperturbed by the interrogate. "She's hot," is all that he says, and Clove can feel her blood boil. Glimmer is all curves and curls and smiles - she is beautiful, and everything that someone expects from a Career tribute. Clove has always been small, with the curves that her mother promised never really coming in and her height never exceeding below average. She is quick and deadly, but she is not the sexy main character of a love story.

"You're a pig."

Cato actually looks surprised at the insult, and Clove realizes that she has stepped over a line. "We're going into an arena where all but one of us dies, Clove," he says sensibly. "In a couple of days, most of us will be dead. In a month, only one of us will be standing."

He's standing toe-to-toe with her now, and she hates how much she has to crane her neck back to keep eye contact with him. She knows what he wants to say - that he will be the victor, that he will bring victory back to District 2. She also knows the underlying meaning, and why he won't say it - because that means that she will be dead.

"We might as well enjoy ourselves a little bit," he murmurs. His fingers are grasping her chin, his breath is fanning across her face, his lips are closing in on hers -

She shoves him away, so that he collides with the wall. His eyes and his mouth are wide; he is not used to rejection, not even from crazy knife-throwing girls. "I'm not something you just have fun with when you want to entertain yourself," she snarls, fists clenching at her sides. She storms off in the direction of her room, but before she can make it, her body is shoved up against the wall, and his long, toned arms are imprisoning her. "Cato!" she screeches, trying to shove him away, but to no avail. He is all hard, lean muscle, and when he stands his ground, she knows she has no chance of escaping.

The same playful look has returned to his face. "You know, Clove, jealousy on girls usually isn't very attractive. It's annoying." She clenches her jaw, resisting the urge to take out a knife and plunge it into his arm. "But on you it's almost… cute."

Cute. He called her cute. Glimmer is hot and sexy and beautiful and bewitching and alluring and gorgeous - and Clove is cute.

"Stop comparing yourself to other girls." She thinks he can read her mind, but now she's aware that he's probably reading her face. She flushes, embarrassed that she has let herself go so much, and Cato smirks, obviously pleased with himself. He says nothing, and half of her expects him to lean in to kiss her again (and a small portion of that hopes that he does), but he pushes himself away from the wall. He's wearing a forlorn expression that she cannot understand. "We should get to bed. We have to get up early tomorrow."

She nods silently and watches as he retreats into his room. He glances at her over his shoulder before closing the door.

Clove allows her heart to pound in her chest and her cheeks to flush, but only for a moment. Then she storms into her room, throws herself onto her bed, and buries herself in her sheets, trying to forget everything - the jealousy, Glimmer's giggle, Cato's arms, his eyes, his words.

She tries to forget, because she knows that two people cannot win the Hunger Games.