A/N: This is a short fanfic, if I get enough reviews, I might continue it ^^ please read and review!
'I told you. I am perfectly capable of doing this alone and I won't have you interferring with my plans.' I hissed. I know we're not supposed to talk too loud in case Thresh/The D12 lovebirds/The fox girl overheard us, but for the moment all I cared about was going to the feast. Alone.
'If they come at you all at once, you might not-'
'Stop acting like I'm a five-year-old girl! For god's sake, Cato! We're Careers! I can do this!' I snapped. Since when exactly did Cato start caring about me? He was a monster. A killing machine. As far as I know, he only cared about winning the Games and going home to all of his fangirls.
Thinking back now, when he volunteered, he had literally hopped onto the stage and blew kisses to all of his swoony fangirls. I swear I saw half of them faint.
I don't know why, but this ignites something in me. 'Why'd you even care about my safety anyway? If I went it would be easier for you to win anyway. Everyone knows that the rule change is a total bluff! If I go, and get killed, you'll win for sure! Isn't that all you care about? Winning the Games? Going home to your herd of fangirls? So let me go!'
Throughout my little speech, Cato's expression changed from surprised, to angry, then finally settled on a pained one. I finished the rant, panting a little, and looked up. His eyes were cloudy with...tears? No, it couldn't be. Cato Jet, crying? Dream on.
'Clove, look. I never knew you felt that way, but...it's not true. The Games and those girls back home? They were not important to me.'
What?
My head snapped up in surprise and I met his eyes. He moved closer until we were only inches apart. For some stupid reason, I started to blush and my stomach started doing flip-flops. Is this what people called butterflies? Stop it, Clove. Stopitstopitstopit.
'There's no easy way to say this, but? Ever since I clapped eyes on you at school I've had a huge crush on you. The way you throw knives? The way you snapped at everyone who dared to talk to you? The way you flip your hair around? Perfect. All perfect.'
My jaw nearly hit the ground. He's lying. He's got to be lying.
'Those other girls? They mean nothing, really. Just handy when I don't want to run an errand or something.'
'B-bu-ut, the Ga-am-ames! You ca-an-n't just tell me t-hi-is now! We're both in the Games!' I choked out. To my absolute horror, tears started streaming down my face.
Cato held his thumb up and caught my tears, wiping them away. 'I don't care.'
I coughed and looked up. His eyes. God. Sky-blue with just a hint of gray.
Suddenly, I'm aware of the fact that his lips were on mine. This can't be happening. I'm kissing Cato Jet. Those prissy little girls back home must be swearing at the screen.
But I didn't care anymore.
After what seemed like forever, I pulled back up, desperate for air.
Cato was staring at me. 'Clove.'
'Y-y-y-es?' Stupid Clove. Stopr stuttering.
'I love you.'
I was in a state of shock. Love didn't, couldn't exist in District two, where everyone was trained to go into the Games.
Could it?
Suddenly I realised. I didn't care anymore either. Screw them all. Screw District two. Screw the Capitol. Screw those bitches back home. There was no doubt. I'm in love with this boy in front of me.
Realising I've been standing there zombie-like, I step forward and bury my head in Cato's chest as an acknowledgement.
'Alright. We'll go together. To the cornucopia.' I give in.
