They had both shared a mutual love of sharp weaponry. It's what brought them together. It's why they trained only with each other. Both of their lives had revolved around one single thing. Killing. It was what they were both best at and together they were even better. Killing. Together. It was their twisted bond that they shared, only they themselves could ever understand.
"Cato! Cato!" rocks his eardrums and he fears only the worst. He bolts to her direction, only to find her crumpled form on the ground. He clutches her hand, begging her to stay with him, becoming terrified at the prospect of them not being together. (Her breathing is slowing) Because this year there can be two victors and it would be the them. It had to be them. Because together they are an unstoppable force. She never misses. A single murderous entity. Brutal, bloody. They had trained their whole lives for this glory. (Her hand relaxes) They were the career tributes. With her knives and his sword (Her eyelids droop) they obliterated all who crossed their path. And two victors this year. The odds had been in their favor. Together they would win. (Her chest stops rising) So why did—BOOM
The cannon sounds.
He realizes suddenly it's because he wasn't with her then that she lies here now. Eyes staring up at him, unblinking. Dead. It sinks in. He must go on. Alone. He is numb as he stares into her blank expression. But there is something in the hollow depths of her eyes that awakens him, screaming up at him that if only he hadn't let her go alone—He spots a fleeing figure in the corner of his blurred vision. His fists clench. In that moment a blinding rage fills him and he thinks—knows that he must kill all the other tributes. Because in his sick mind, killing is the closest thing to her.
And he never wants to leave her again.