This fic is not for anyone underage. It deals with adult situations and concepts. I made up their ages for the benefit of this fic. Con crit is fine, any flames due to subject will be happily ignored.
She is 16, he is 18, and she is being abused. But not by him.
Dad beats her, Mom screams at her.
She is trained daily to kill; she is encouraged to beat her peers senseless. She is trained to ignore her sense of humanity in favor of power and domination.
And yet her relationship with Cato is considered the bad element in her life.
She's taken 4 lives in her young life; she's been beaten so badly by her father she's slipped into comas. She's been screamed at, sworn at and degraded by her mother so much that she remembers sleeping in the streets just to get away.
She's lived more in her years than someone twice her age. Yet she is considered too young to understand what is good for her.
So they forbid them to be together. He is too old for her; she will be abused by him. She is too young for him, he needs to stay focused.
He's allowed to fuck anyone he wants, as a release, but the moment a sense of intimates is involved the girl disappears.
They meet in secret only one. So many conflicting emotions flash in both their minds.
Clove wants to trust him; she wants someone who won't hurt her. She wants to feel his powerful hands used for pleasure despite their capabilities for pain. But the moment eyes make connect the shame builds.
He knows it's wrong, she's so young. But she's been through so much, he wants to support her, he wants to help her. He wants to watch over her and keep harm from befalling on her.
Daddy beats her when he finds out she met with him.
She barely escapes a black eye, but she knows the swelling on her cheek is nothing short of a glorious bruise. She knows the next day at training no one will comment on it, no one but the one person in the entire district who she's not suppose to talk too.
He notices it the second she walks into the gym, his sword drops a little and his eyes form a deadly glare.
He walks toward her, ignore the dozen or so people watching them.
"He did it again?" He asks, sword still in hand.
She shrugs, because it doesn't matter to her anymore. She feels shame when she notices her training staring disapprovingly at them.
She steps away, making sure a small part of her arm brushes up against his. It's all she can offer him, it's all they can have.
She's supposed to be a killer. She's supposed to be a silent victim, she's supposed to train and feel nothing. She's not suppose to be in love or happy because of an age difference.
It's these reasons that when the reaping happens and a girl far to Clove's right is called she volunteers in her stead.
She's supposed to be abused, she's supposed to kill, she's suppose to feel nothing.
She walks up to the stage, feeling nothing, embracing what her district wants of her. And when Cato volunteers she feels so much. Anger, sadness, fear, and so much grief. But she knows by the hard stare in his eyes he's doing in for the same reasons she did.
They rather volunteer for death than embrace the life they're suppose to live.