Disclaimer: I don't own The Hunger Games.
Summary: The way he looks at her is odd, intruding, exciting. CatoKatniss, set during the pre-Games training, oneshot
Holy CRAP, CatoKatniss, where have you been all my life! There were some parts in the book where I was like, "Okay, this could go somewhere," and I saw the movie on opening weekend and I was like, "Yes please!" And I dunno. This pairing needs to happen more. People need to write for them. Just saying. Oh my goodness. Anyway, please enjoy this! I would love to hear your opinions and such!
Set This Soul On Fire
She usually has a sixth sense about these kinds of things.
Katniss can pinpoint if someone is staring at her before they know it, and sooner than they think, she's staring back - at their secretive little game isn't so secretive anymore. She's had it happen with Peeta numerous times before, but she feels that she unnerves him somehow. That her gaze is just a tad too harsh for his kind, sky-colored eyes. She's not sure why, but when he looks at her, she feels…off.
There's something else.
Sure, she's had to get used to the countless people staring at them during the festivities before the Games, but usually it isn't anything that she can't put out of her head. The people talking about her and fawning over the fiery tributes from District 12 aren't enough to bother her - unless she's being interviewed in front of all of them.
But there's him.
She never really paid attention - never really thought that people of the opposite sex were ever attracted to her in that way. Never wanted them to be, really. One less thing to worry about. She never understood why people were so strung up on wanting to be with someone, or wanting to have a family. Not with the Games in play. Not with all the hardships they would have to face, living in Twelve.
Katniss never thought that guys looked at her in any particularly special way. She was nothing particularly special, if she was honest with herself. The only skill she had a claim to would be her archery.
That was until she was Reaped.
Swept off her feet and into the Capitol, Katniss hardly had any time to adjust. With her constant suspicions of Peeta and everyone else around, she never really thought twice about anything but staying alive.
Then training starts.
And things change.
They are outsiders, she and Peeta. They are from the District with the drunken mentor and the lowest chance of winning. They are taunted, she knows, by the other tributes. She might be innocent in several ways, but she is not stupid.
She focuses on nothing but building the basic skills. Setting fires, creating snares, and things of the sort. Don't show off your strengths, Haymitch's voice rings in her head as she kneels while working her fingers into a particularly difficult knot.
This is not the first time she feels it.
That statement in and of itself is a strange one, knowing that she has felt like this before. It gives her a certain sense of paranoia, one that it too odd to try to dodge.
She looks up automatically and locks eyes with District 2 tribute, Cato.
He doesn't look away, not like the many people who would have the decency to avoid her gaze after being caught staring. Not like Peeta. He cocks his head to the side in a lofty manner, his eyes raking over her form as if she was something particularly interesting. She can only imagine the things he is thinking about her. Easy pickings? Not fiery enough for his tastes?
Katniss wonders why she cares.
She hasn't seen many people like him, that's for sure. Unless she counts the many, many Careers she's viewed on the Games before they became a part of her own life. She remembers watching the numerous Careers, walking in like they owned the place. Confident and uncaring, knowing that the odds were in their favor. Knowing that at least one of them would emerge alive.
Cato is no different, she feels.
But the way he looks at her…that is completely different.
His eyes are icy and blue - she can't help but contrast them to Peeta's, which are also the same color, but no where near like the Career's. Peeta's are warm and kind, never harsh, never severe.
Unlike Cato, whose eyes are more like a glacier, frigid and unmoving, freezing her blood in her veins.
She thinks he knows this, too.
This is one of the times in which the person doesn't look away, not even as she fixes them with her most stony stare. Not even in which the person is supposed to realize that she is not one for pointless smiles and grinning. Cato doesn't notice this. Either that or he doesn't care.
It might be both.
She stares him down, treating him almost as if he is an animal, and she is back home in the woods with the familiar feel of the bow in her hands. Waiting. Waiting. The imagery is fleeting, though, because he is not the timid deer that she so wanted to bring home, and her bow is not in her hands. She can kill nothing with the flimsy, knotted strings in her hands.
Cato looks at her in amusement, as if knowing what her thought process was.
He gives her a smirk now, one that seems to change his whole face. The relaxed, predatory look is gone now, replaced by one that would make him the talk of the town in Twelve, one that would probably make him compete with Gale for girls' affections.
The moment is lasting too long. Certainly, people were bound to notice their exchange, but Katniss can't find it in her to care.
She returns his smirk with one of her own.
He looks surprised for a moment, and she can't help but feel a sense of pleasure at it, can't help but feeling pride at having caught the big, brutal Career off guard. It soars through her chest, thrums through her veins, fuels her muscles.
But there is something else.
Her heart is pounding.
Cato grins, all teeth, and then turns to walk away, but not before giving her one last, penetrating stare.
He leaves her kneeling over her snares with her heart betraying her, pumping blood furiously through her body as adrenaline prickles through her, as if forcing her to be aware that this person might just be more relevant than she originally realized.
Katniss Everdeen finds herself staring after him as he walks away, a strange feeling of betrayal settling into her bones.
End.