Complete, that's how it feels. being with him, she feels that something she was missing her whole entire life. She thought validation from her parents would do it, she thought that when they finally showed they loved her, she would feel full. Not the empty shell she had been all those years before, but no. When they finally felt proud, when they finally recognised she mattered, it was too late. She felt emptier and more deflated than she had ever before. She turned to despising them, hating them for condemning her to this life, cursing them for bringing her into this world. And for that while she was void. Empty. No words could rouse her, no blade could relieve her. Not for one second, not from this bitter pain. And then she met him. HIM. He was a sweet relief, wrapped in a sadistic packaging. He haunted her dreams, made her feel real again. She must be a macosist, because every taunt, every touch, every bruise makes her feel alive. Makes her fall in love. He's as broken as she is, maybe more so. It would be very easy to believe he hates her, finds her a burden, but she can see it in his eye. Every time he looks at her, there's longing, desperation, a burning passion.
So they both volunteer, both in this game together. As they should be. They were never destined to live, despite what is said. They need this. Need a way out, need each other. It only feels right, dying here, with him. Because he is Cato and she is Clove and they were destined, to be together, to die together.