Disclaimer: I don't own The Hunger Games, sadly.

He never ment to fall for her.

He wasnt even sure what he felt. She was an unattended gust of furry that would kill him any moment she got the chance. He let his walls down for some strange reason, and let childish girl penetrate his heart.

He had spoken to her a few times in the training gym back in District 2, him giving the playboy flirt to her, she only threatening to kill him as soon as she got the chance, but here in the training gym of the Capitol, he saw her in a different light. He saw the wild beauty inside. He cursed himself everyday when he let his stare linger in her direction when she left the room. He felt the absence of her in his room, when all he wanted was to come in there from diner and a long day of training, and find her in his bed, silently sleeping. He wanted the window to blow in a chilly, stiff gust of air and have her need his body heat. To curl up with him. Clove was the first Girl Cato would let stay in his bed. Sure, sex was fine with other beauties of 2, but never sleep. He was Cato Hadley, the heartless bastard that got whatever he pleased. Except for her.

Her never ment to fall for her. The sadistic smirk, oddly, comforted him staring at her over the dying embers of the fire. Against Cato's will, Clove took the first shift of watching.

When he awoke, it was to his training partner, so he could hear an announcement. Two victor's could be accepted from the same district. Clove and Cato could home. His hands clasped around Clove's slim waist that he admired so much, for when they called another announcement. A feast. Their chance to go home, and to Cato's disappointment, Clove would do the bitch from 12, and he would try to get the oy from 12, or the girl from 5.

He never ment to fall for the girl writhing on the ground. The body that he lusted for was lying on the ground, taking shallow breaths. His mind was numb from shock that someone could ever manage to overcome this girl.

His name had been called from a muttled voice. Soon, Cato would realize that Clove could not be salvaged.

The cannon fired.