AU: I don't think there are nearly enough good stories of this pairing. The first few chapters will take place 4 months before the 74th hunger games to give Katniss and Clove a chance to meet before they're reaped. You might see me pull lyrics from the CF soundtrack or other songs and use them from time to time because I'm really lame. This fic will probably be mostly in Clove's point of view but I'm not sure yet. Katniss doesn't make an appearance in this chapter. Tell me what you think?
Clove's POV;
I wiggle my nose as a cold white flake lands on it. I reach out my hand and let a few of the small flakes fall onto it. This is the first time me and my companions had ever seen snow. I'll admit it is weird, but strangely beautiful.
"Having fun there, Clove?" Cato says with a smirk as I catch more snow and watch it melt in my hand almost instantly.
"Don't act like you weren't just doing the same five minutes ago." I say jokingly.
The other academy kids had been doing the same as well but now most of them have lost interest and have started complaining about the cold. It didn't bother me though.
"Can't we go in yet?" An irritating voice asked the peacekeepers and District 2 victors that were escorting us. We were waiting to tour the District 12 Justice Building.
As much as this snow intrigued me it didn't make up for being in District 12. In the District 2 academy you're either set up to be a tribute for The Hunger Games or, more commonly, a peacekeeper. Every few years or so the kids of the academy take a mandatory 'field trip' to the other districts that we may one day police. Everyone hates it.
I don't know why Cato and I have to be here though, it's not official yet but it's pretty much been determined that we're the selected two to volunteer as tributes for this year's Hunger Games. But that's not for another four months and apparently a lot can change between now and then.
I snort at the thought. As if our ability to murder would suddenly vanish. I've been working with knives all my life so I'm fairly certain that won't happen. I could be spending this time practicing! But the decision for us to spend the three weeks in the other districts was incontestable.
"One more stupid district," I say under my breath. "Then we can finally be done. Just three more days and then I'm done." I didn't totally mind the trip. I get to be away from my worthless being of a mother. Still, I haven't held a knife in almost three weeks and my fingers are itching to practice my skills
I'm snapped out of my thoughts when one of the District 2 victors addresses the group, telling us it was time to tour the District 12 Justice Building. I roll my eyes, as if this is going to be any different than the other ten tours of Justice Buildings I've already been on. The only notable difference is that everything seems to be covered in a small layer of coal dust.
When the stupid tour is finally over we're taken to the district's victor's village where we'll stay for the remainder of our stay in Twelve. By now the snow has really begun to fall and there's already about two inches on the ground. I notice that out of all twelve houses in the village only one has smoke rising up from the chimney.
This causes me to smirk. It's really amazing that Twelve has any victor's at all. I try to remember Twelve's only living victor and snort in disgust as I recall an older man who is always drunk at The Hunger Games ceremonies. I hate people who drink due to the fact that it's my mother's favorite pass time.
The escorts separate us into two houses; boys in one and girls in the other. When we get into the house one of the girls asks if I want to eat dinner with her and the others but I decline. I'm actually not very hungry. I settle down for the night on a couch in the wreck room, avoiding the bedrooms and living room where everyone else is sleeping. I'm glad when I notice that since I chose the wreck room, there's a door to the outside. This makes me feel safer, I don't like feeling trapped.
As I stare up at the ceiling, waiting for sleep to take over, I think about how I don't know the name of the girl who asked me to eat with her. I actually don't know the names of any of the girls. I've never cared too much honestly, I'd rather be on my own most of the time. Everyone knows who I am though; I'm The Girl With The Knives. Or I guess you could call me The Girl With No Friends. I only know Cato, and I wouldn't even consider him a friend, just a future ally.
I rub my hands over my eyes and try to shake the sudden feeling of loneliness that threatens to swallow me. It won't matter soon enough. I think to myself. I just have to win The Hunger Games then none of these people will matter anymore anyway. I'll be a star in the capitol and none of it will matter anymore. This loneliness won't last for long. I shut my eyes and I'm filled with gratitude when sleep finally decides to overtake me.