She's lying in his arms, and he wonders briefly if she even knows what she's doing to him. In waking she knows exactly what she's doing, every step is a perfectly calculated formula, but there's something about her as she sleeps that makes him think that there's an entirely different side to her that he hasn't seen before. A smile tugs at his lips as he lets out a small shuddering breath, moving in closer to him – but it soon fades when he realizes just how close she is. He can feel her warm breath dancing over his skin, and his heart beats faster with every little movement. She's not her usual cut-throat self like this, no; she's just a girl, dreaming of better things, and he's just a boy, wondering if that better thing could be him. Only now does it hit him that this isn't just a game; chances are, she's not going to get out of here alive. And even if she does, he won't.
There's a stinging in his eyes, but he fights to pretend not to acknowledge it. He knows the whole world is watching, but he doesn't care. In that second there's only her, and her steady breathing that might not last for another day. Should he just kill her now, while she sleeps? At least she wouldn't feel anything that way, right? But within seconds he banishes the idea. He could never hurt her. He could never see her hurt. This isn't who he is – it's not who he's meant to be.
He leans forward slowly, carefully, not wanting to wake her, and plants a gentle kiss to her forehead. When he pulls back there's a smile on her face, and there's a child-like innocence about her. He's not sure at what point exactly he fell to sleep while looking at her, but he knows that when he wakes up she's already out of his arms, screaming. He wants to go to her, he wants so badly to save her, but Clove is pulling on his arm.
"Cato, we have to get out of here! They're tracker jackers!"
His hand automatically finds his arm, and he feels a lump there, but he can't tear his eyes away from the girl that had been asleep in his arms only moments before, trying to bat away the swarm around her. Amongst her screams he thinks he hears his name, but he might have imagined it.
"Cato!" Clove's tugs on his arm becomes more insistent, and now he's on autopilot and he's running, and even as he sprints away he's telling himself to turn around and help her. But he can't, because that's not who or what he is. He's made for killing, not saving.
He tries to tell himself Glimmer was just a piece in the game, an obstacle that he had to overcome, but he knows that that's not true. He knows it so well that it kills him in a way that no other person in the arena ever could. Because, in the end, she made him feel, and that was worse than any death.