A/n Hey guys! This is my first try at a Clato fanfic so PLEASE don't be too mean! I really want constructive criticism, because I love this couple and want to learn how to write them better, but I don't want to be crushed and never want to write again… Please review!
I lay in bed, looking up at the ceiling. I can't stop thinking about tomorrow. Tomorrow twenty four of us will be put in an arena, forced to kill each other. I shouldn't be worried, I'm a Career after all. But I can't get the images of all the other tributes out of my head. Most of them are bigger than me. The boy from Eleven worries me the most. He might have an actual shot at hurting me. And then there's the girl from Twelve, who somehow pulled an eleven. Finally, I can't stand it anymore. I force myself out of bed and creep down the hall to where Cato's door is. I press my ear against the door and listen. I hear a TV on, and I think he's awake, so I knock quietly. I hear a creak and footsteps coming closer to the door. It opens, and Cato's looking at me.
"What are you doing up?" He asks me. I shrug.
"Couldn't sleep?" Again, I shrug. He gives me a sympathetic look and opens his arms. I collapse into them wordlessly.
After a few minutes of standing there, I begin to sob. I mentally slap myself. I can't show weakness! But that doesn't stop the flow of tears streaming down my face. Cato pulls back a little, looks into my eyes then scoops me up like a baby, which I am, and carries me over to his bed. He sits crisscross in the middle, and I sit in his lap with my knees folded under me, my arms around his neck. He rubs my back soothingly while I sob into the crook of his neck. Finally, I gradually start to calm down. When I'm done crying, I pull away so that I can look at him.
"I-I'm sorry. I'm just scared about tomorrow and i-"
"What are you scared about?" His voice, filled with concern, cuts me off.
"Getting killed. Being tortured to death. Looking weak." My voice is quiet, broken.
"Clove, I won't let you get hurt. I promise. The only way you can look weak is if you let yourself. When we're in the arena, just forget about the audience. Pretend they don't exist, alright? It'll help."
I nod, unsure of what to say. I'm still ashamed of breaking down in front of him.
"There is one other thing…" The words are out of my mouth before I can stop them.
"What is it?" Again, there's concern in his voice.
"Cato, only one of us can come out. Only one of us can win! One of us is going to die." My voice is an octave higher toward the end of my sentence, and I'm on the verge of tears again.
"Shh. Shh. Relax. Don't think about that tonight. Just relax. You can face what you have to face tomorrow, but tonight, just forget about it all. We're not in the arena yet." His voice is comforting, and I want to do what he says. So I nod.
"Why don't you lay here for a while?" He says, pulling us into a laying position. I don't object, though I know I should.
It becomes clear after a few minutes that I cannot relax. My body is tense, and I can't stop twitching. Every now and then I have to blink back tears.
Cato's head is directly above my own.
"Clove. Relax." He coos.
I'm about to protest that I can't when he starts kissing me! I'm shocked for a few seconds, but I quickly recover. In a normal situation, I would have pulled away and slapped him, but tonight was our last night when we could truly be ourselves. I decided to take advantage of it. I wrap my arms around his neck and pull myself closer to him, kissing him back. He responds by putting his hands on my hips and bringing me on top of him. My knees automatically go on either side of his waist so I'm straddling him. He grins against my mouth and traces my lower lip with his tongue, asking for entrance. Surprisingly, I give it to him. I move one of my hands from his neck to tangle in his hair, bringing him closer. I can't stop the moan that escapes my lips as he breaks away to nibble on my collarbone. He pulls away from my neck and is attacking my lips again. This time I trace my tongue along his lower lip, teasing him for a few seconds even though he's already opened his mouth. I grab the hem of his shirt and tug. He pulls away only long enough for me to slip his shirt off then his lips are back on mine. His teeth graze my neck and I dig my knees tighter into his waist, then nibble on his lip. I smile at the low moan I get out of him, but it quickly fades when I hear a door opening.
"What the?" Its Enobaria's shocked voice.
I jump off Cato, but he just sits up and calmly pulls his shirt back on. He opens his arms and I can't resist crawling back into them.
"Cato! Clove! I'm very disappointed in you! In all my years of mentoring, I've never had such a-" Enobaria's cut off by Brutus.
"Oh let it go! It's their last night together. Even if he did manage to knock her up, she'd probably lose the kid in the arena. Just get Clove and take her back to her room. None of us will ever mention this again, and all's well. Clear?" We all nod. "Good. Now goodnight." He walks out and slams the door shut.
"You, back to bed. Now." Enobaria orders, pointing a sharp finger at me. I scramble out without a word. Before I make it out however, I hear Cato's voice.
"Relaxed yet?" His voice is smug.
I smile. "Very." Then I skirt out of the room, seeing Enobaria's glare.
I lay in bed thinking about what Cato said. Just forget about the audience. Pretend they don't exist. I'm going to have to follow his advice if I don't want to freak out like that again. Then again, maybe Cato could help me relax…I smile before falling into a deep sleep.
A/n So? How was it? Again, it's my first Clato fanfic, so constructive criticism is welcomed. No flames please!
