A/N: I will preface this saying that it is my first HG fic. I will forever be shipping Clato. This is going to be a semi short fic, but I hope you enjoy it anyway. I am going to keep this story as close to the books as possible, well what we know that happens in the book the rest is my imagination. I owe these wonderful characters to the amazing Suzanne Collins. Also, this is in Cato's perspective. Thank you for reading, Love!
The morning of the reaping I was almost physically ill the morning of the Reaping. I was excited of course to have the chance to represent my District, but the people who have no chance, if I was chosen I would have to kill someone I know. With all the glory that will come from winning the Hunger Games, it would be worth it.
Becoming a tribute was what I had been training most of my life for. Technically it wasn't allowed, but technically no one in District 2 cared. I am only sixteen so I still have time to honor my District by winning, but this year just feels like a good year.
I had to get ready quickly because I woke up late. I didn't put on any fancy clothes, just khaki slacks and a light blue button down shirt. I didn't have time to go see her but I figured that I would see her after the Reaping. I arrived just in time because five minutes later they started pulling names.
"Clove Furhman," the announcer was so giddy about it, she made me sick. Not her, anyone but her, anyone but my Clove. She wasn't anywhere near as large as the other career girls, she was incredibly lethal but the other tributes would probably be able to overpower her by sheer size. I couldn't let her go, I couldn't live knowing there was a possibility she would never come back.
Keyo Lagriss was chosen as the male tribute for our district. He didn't care about Clove; if he went she would not come back.
"I volunteer!" I shouted out before I fully processed what this meant. Volunteering myself meant that I would never come back, because I would not let her die. Not if I had a choice. I had to protect Clove and if that meant that I had to die doing it, so be it.
The goodbyes were an interesting affair, only my mother and father came to see me off. My mother was in tears, obviously worried about me, and my father was beaming with pride. I could barely look at the two of them knowing that I would never be coming home. I saw Clove when I was getting on the train but she just ignored my presence. The ride to the Capitol will be short for us because we are fairly close but it should be long enough to talk to Clove.
"Clove, will you talk to me?" She was sitting at the table, nursing what looked like an orange juice. I had to give her some credit because she had no show of nerves; she looked like a statue sitting at table.
"Why should I?"
"Let me explain it to you, please."
"No, it's okay. I understand. You needed this glory and killing me doesn't seem to faze you at all."
"No, that is not why I volunteered. I need to make sure that you will be okay; I couldn't stand it if you died. I volunteered so that I will be able to protect you."
"You volunteered to protect me. Does that mean that you are going to do something stupid like risk your life for me?"
"That's the plan."
"Cato, you can't. That is so selfish; I wouldn't be able to live with myself knowing I was the cause of your death. You are doing this for me you say but did you ever think about how I would feel? I love you and I don't want to live without you."
"I'm sorry Clove, but I will protect you to my dying breath," I reached out and took her hand; she didn't yank away so I thought I was getting somewhere. We sat like that for a while, not looking at each other but holding hands.
"I think we should downplay our relationship when we get to the Capitol."
"Why? People love a dramatic story."
"Because, Cato, I don't want to deal with it. Besides, my parents don't know the extent of our relationship. It will also make the two of us less targets to the other tributes, if they know that they can get you to do anything if it means protecting me they won't stop."
"If that is what you want then fine, I still love you and I will still protect you." We broke hands and she walked away, I didn't see her again until we were at the Capitol.
"Look at it," she said breathlessly, "It's beautiful." She laid up against me, not an act of love but an act of solidarity. From now on it didn't matter how in love we were, we were a team and nothing more. Each district had their own floor that had many rooms, Clove chose her room and I claimed the one next to hers. I was hoping that she would talk to me again. The Hunger Games had not officially begun yet, but for us they had. It was no longer about our relationship and love, it was about surviving, myself surviving long enough to keep Clove alive and Clove surviving long enough so that I would not be able to save her.