It wasn't that he didn't care. Because he did. He actually cares and it was the first time that he actually felt something in his heart. He was viewed as ruthless, brutal and bloody, he even viewed himself as that and even to the point that he saw himself as a person who would never care, at all. But that thing changed, and he knew the exact moment when.

It was in the reaping, when he shook hands with his district partner.

Because at the moment their hands touched, he felt something. And when he looked into her eyes, he saw something else. He saw beyond her front. Even when everybody saw her as strong and brave and even when you could see it in her eyes too, Cato saw beyond it. He saw the tiny fragment of fear that was there and when he was supposed to think that she'd be an easy Career kill, he had thought that he needed to protect this girl and he didn't know why.

He only found the reason why when they got into the Capitol, the night before their Games. Brutus and Enobaria were sound asleep in their rooms and so was their escort, Grayber. He silently crept into the kitchen and took a bottle of wine. He didn't drink, only occasionally. His father let him, he says that it was good for him and that he wasn't a boy, he was a man who was going to win the 74th Hunger Games.

He had sat in the living room, the only light was the fireplace he had lit. He had poured himself a glass of wine and hadn't been exactly drinking it, he was just playing with it, twirling the glass and watching the red wine splash around the corners. He thought that it was what he was going to see the next day, blood splashed everywhere, blood from tributes he had killed.

He hadn't heard her enter but he had heard her leave and he hadn't exactly seen her, "You can come sit here if you want."

She came out of the shadows, dressed in a black nightgown. When she sat across from him, the light of the fire illuminated her face and he had thought that she looked like an angel, an angel of death. She didn't say anything at first, she was only immersed on her thoughts. But when she looked at him and saw the glass of wine in his hands, she looked at him quizzically.

"You drink?" she asked.

It was the first question she ever asked to him that didn't addressed the Games. He nodded simply, "Yes. Do you want some?"

She looked unsure at first but then slowly nodded her head. He placed the glass on the table and pushed it over to her. She took it with gentle fingers and pressed it to her lips. He watched her, her every move. In some strange ways, she had always managed to capture his attention and he never understood why. She placed the glass back on the table and she licked her lips. For a moment, she just stared simply at the glass.

"It looks like blood," she commented.

Cato nodded, "Yea."

She was silent again and then, she spoke, "Are you afraid?"

"Of the Games?" he asked and let out a scoff, "I'm gonna win, princess."

"Don't call me that," she snapped.

He laughed, "Why? Are you afraid?"

She was silent yet again and he let her be. He took the glass, it was almost half empty so he filled it again. He brought it to his lips and took a sip, his eyes never leaving her face. How was it that she managed to get his attention? He's been trying to distract himself, he even stooped to a low level where he flirted with the girl from district one that looked like a slut. But he needed a distraction, he needed to be in control of himself but every time she appeared, he lost all control.

"Yes," she finally answered.

He wasn't exactly surprised. He had seen the fear when they shook hands and even if it was the only time he saw it, he knew that it would still be there, "You're not gonna die. Have you seen yourself with those knives? You never miss, Clove."

He didn't understand why he had comforted her. He wanted to tell her she was weak but the words never left his mouth and he even scolded himself for thinking it. Clove let out a laugh, "I know I never miss. And I know I could win."

"Then why are you afraid?"

"Because behind my knives, I don't want to be a piece of their Games," she said softly, "I don't want to be some kind of entertainment. And I don't want to lose who I am just so the Capitol could have something to bet on."

And in that moment, he knew why he wanted to protect her. She had wanted to remain pure despite the fact that like him, she too, was trained to kill. And so he noted to himself to protect this girl, not from death because he knew too well that he could protect herself from that, he will protect her from turning into a monster.

When they got into the arena, at the bloodbath, he had watched as she killed tribute after tribute. But unlike him, she didn't kill too many. And he had watched her wince every time she sees her knife digging through someone's back. He knew she wasn't enjoying this, he knew that she was only doing it to stay alive.

He never let her leave his side. Sometimes, he would even get angry when he couldn't spot her. He wanted to protect her but she was making it so bloody hard. But maybe it wasn't only protection that he wanted. Maybe, just maybe, he actually felt something for Clove. But the moment that crossed his mind, he willed it away and even made an effort to distract himself with Glimmer.

But he couldn't. Because while he spent his every waking moment by Glimmer's side and flirting with her, she had grown close to Loverboy. He knew she was hesitant to have Peeta join them, but she agreed because she trusted him even when she didn't want to admit it. Whenever he sees the two of them walking by together, he had to use every ounce of control he has to not break Loverboy's neck.

And so when the tracker jacker nest fell on them one night, and he saw Peeta save Katniss, he was glad that Peeta actually did that. Because now he had a reason to hurt him. That was why he cut him so deep rather than just kill him instantly, because he wanted him to suffer because he spent time with his Clove.

His Clove.

It had a nice ring to it and he knew that when he cut Peeta, he knew he did feel something for Clove and now that Glimmer was gone, he had no more distraction. And so he did made sure she was always near him, he even holds her hand when they hunt. But the first time he did it, she pulled away and stared at him in disbelief.

"What are you doing?" she whispered, she didn't want Marvel who was trailing behind them to hear.

"Holding your hand," he whispered back.

"Why?" she asked.

He racked his brain for some answer, but the only thought that came to him was to just tell her he had feelings for her. But he wouldn't do that, it made him seem weak. And so he lied, "Because I think Marvel's gonna kill you. I think I'd rather have you on my side than him, he doesn't seem reliable and I don't trust him."

She nodded and seemed to buy his excuse. But he knew she knows the real reason behind. She was smart, not dumb like Glimmer or Marianne, the girl from district four, he knew she figured it out already. But his theory was only proven when Claudius Templesmith announced that two victors could come out, as long as they were from the same district.

"I guess you're stuck with me," he had said, a smirk on his lips. He didn't exactly want the entire Panem to see he was just as lovestruck as Peeta.

Clove smirked back, "Aww, what a shame. I wouldn't then get the chance to kill you."

His face almost fell, "So you wanted to kill me?"

She moved towards him slowly and he found himself mesmerized by her. She traced his face with her knife gently and he shivered, she grinned, "I knew it."

Before he could asked what, he had felt her lips on her. And in that moment, he knew that his little theory of her knowing he liked her was true. And it was also the same moment that he found out that he wasn't the only one between the two of them who was hiding feelings.

And it was also in that moment that he knew he wanted to come home, with her, with his Clove.

But he never really thought that his sweet Clove would die.

He didn't exactly like the plan she had. She wanted to kill Katniss. And she wanted to go to the feast alone. There were a lot of reasons why he didn't want her to go. First was because he was now seeing a monster, well, not that much, but she was closely becoming to one and that was the exact thing he was protecting her from. And second, he knew she stood a chance against Katniss, and that girl from district five and he knew Peeta wouldn't show up. But there was Thresh. He was big and he was scared that he'd kill her.

"I promise I'll give the audience a good show, Cato," she said sweetly.

"I thought you didn't want to entertain the audience, Clove," he whispered.

She looked at him and sighed, "Cato, I've only killed like what, four people and that already includes Katniss. She is already as good as dead for me. And I just, I just want to kill her so badly. Please?"

"But what if Thresh gets to you?" he asked again, still unsure.

"He won't because you're gonna hunt him and kill him, right?"

Cato sighed and moved towards her, tucking a stray hair behind her ear, "Promise me you'll be safe, okay?"

"You're turning soft now, Cato," she teased him with a grin but stood on her tiptoes and kissed his cheek, leaning over his ear and whispering, "I promise I'll come back to you."

And so he let her go. He trusted her and if she promised she'll come back to him, then she will. And so he set off to kill Thresh. He didn't exactly know where he was. And so he was deep in the woods. He wished he hadn't now, though.

"Cato! Cato!"

The scream was unmistakable, and he knew, Clove was in trouble. He didn't think twice, he sprinted back to the Cornucopia, but he was too deep in the woods and there was no way he could reach her in time, "Clove!"

When I finally reached the Cornucopia, I saw Clove writhing in pain on the ground. Katniss was already running away and Thresh took our bags and vanished in the forest. The hunter in me told me to pursue them, especially Katniss because she was probably the biggest threat. Or maybe Thresh because I had the biggest inkling that he was the one who killed Clove.

But I didn't pursue them, instead, I ran to Clove's side and sat by her, following the lover in me. I knelt beside her, I held her in my arms and saw the dent on her head and I knew Katniss didn't kill her, Thresh did. Because I know Katniss uses a bow. I've seen her took Glimmer's bow when Peeta saved her.

"Stay with me, Clove, please," I begged and I knew that the entire Panem would now see beyond my front, that I wasn't just brutal, ruthless and even heartless. Now they would know for a fact that Cato in fact did have a heart. And they would know that Peeta and Katniss weren't the only lovers in this Games.

I kissed her softly, "Stay with me, Clove. Don't leave me."

"Cato," she croaked, "I love you."

Tears were streaming on my face and I didn't bother wiping them away for the cameras, I didn't bother to hide my vulnerability, "I love you too, Princess."

She let out a light and weak laugh and smiled, "I told you not to call me that."

"Don't leave me," I whispered.

She touched my cheek, "I'm safe, Cato. Come and find me there."

"Clove, no, you are not going to die," I said shaking my head.

"Thank you, Cato," she whispered, "For protecting me."

"Clove, don't go. Stay with me," I begged.

She smiled faintly, "I'll always be with you, Cato."

And when her cannon boomed, he refused to let go of her body. And when the hovercraft came, they shocked him and took Clove's body. He didn't go back to his camp, instead, he searched for Thresh. It didn't matter that he was wet and there was a storm in the arena. He will kill Thresh.

And he did. But it didn't entirely made him feel okay. Clove was still dead. But sometimes, he'd see her lurking by a tree and he'd sprint and find her. But he would find no one. It was just his imagination. Although he hoped that it was Clove, and she was making good on her promise.

When there was only three tributes left, he decided to hunt the lovers down. But he didn't exactly plan on killing them, he actually wanted them to kill him. He didn't want to be a victor now, he didn't want to go back to 2 and see Clove's family and act like it doesn't bother him, because it did.

He cared. It was the first time Cato cared in a long time. He cared about Clove, hell, he loves her. And he wanted to see her again and he knew death would bring him to where he was now. But he didn't exactly expect those mutts to chase him and lead him to the Cornucopia. But he was glad that they led him to the lovers.

"What is it Katniss?" Peeta had asked her.

"It's them!" Katniss shrieked and Cato immediately processed what she meant. He looked down at the mutts who were hungry for them, searching for eyes that he was oh so familiar with.

And there she was.

She was looking at him, hate evident in her eyes. He didn't understand, the Capitol must've made her hate him. He was so angry. And so he set off to lock his arms on Peeta's neck with Katniss' arrow pointing at him. She wouldn't shoot, because if she did, Peeta was gonna die with him too.

"I could still do it," he said, his voice voicing the anger he felt for what the Capitol did to his Clove. He had never seen her radiate this hunger to kill in her eyes, he only saw it now, "One more kill."

But he didn't expect Peeta to fight back. And when he did, Katniss' arrow flew to his arm and he fell down to the mutts who carried him off. At dawn, he was still alive. But he was as good as dead. And so when he saw Katniss, he mouthed to her, "Please."

And her arrow whizzed to his head and the last words that left his mouth was, "Clove."

Cato wasn't the type of guy who cared. He never really did. But he never really thought that a girl could change him. Now, wherever he was, he was sure he was happy. Because all he saw now was his beautiful Clove dressed in white, with her long black hair cascading down and that beautiful smile on her face. She looked so pure, so innocent. And he knew that it was because she didn't really kill anyone, not on purpose, not like he did.

And when she took his hand and led him to the light, he found himself going with her, not fighting back. He was going with his Clove, his perfect angel who was no longer the angel of death that he saw the night they first talked.

He was his Clove, the one who made him care.