We watch their bodies below, our eyes glued to the mutts ravaging their now mangled bodies. Clove's eyes gleam, clearly satisfied with her work. She watches intently as they are torn to pieces, savoring every shred of tissue and crack of bone. My gaze is fixated on her, admiring her strength to concur the pain she's felt throughout her life that made her into this killing machine excited by others' misery. My clover is beautiful, a treasure among weeds and grasses. I see in her eyes not only the intense energy focused on the scene unfolding below us, but the small glint of tenderness developed from the prolonged neglect she's felt in every aspect of her life.
The distinct boom of the cannons sounds, marking the deaths of Katniss and Peeta, as well as our joint victory. At first, I found the rule change ridiculous, a ploy to intensify the "star-crossed lovers" angle the District 12 kids played, but I realized it also meant Clove and I could win together. Sure, it would take away from my own fame, but Clove is the only person I would ever tolerate sharing it with. She might not know it, and maybe I didn't know it until recently, but she is the love of my life. I would never be able to let her go.
"Cato, we won," she enunciates slowly, as if unable to comprehend that we've just accomplished everything we've ever hoped for. "We did it. It's us." I smile at her and pull her into my chest, feeling the warmth of her small, built structure enveloped in my embrace. It's not often that I get to be this close to her, so I savor the feeling of it, and make a mental note of how much I love being with her.
I used to think it was impossible for me to love, that it wasn't real. But this – this feels so real I can no longer deny it. "I know, Clove. I know it," I whisper back, hoping to hold a piece of her when she breaks away. We walk to the edge of the Cornucopia, where I jump down to the ground before offering a hand to help her down. I catch a smirk floating across her lips when she sees their blood sprayed across the ground, and wonder what it would take for me to make her whole again, to fill the empty void.
"Greetings to the final contestants of the Seventy-fourth Hunger Games," Claudius Templesmith's voice booms into the arena. "The earlier revision has been revoked. Closer examination of the rule book has disclosed that only one winner may be allowed. Good luck and may the odds be ever in your favor."
I'm a few feet from Clove when the announcement happens. This means… we can't go home together. One of us must kill the other. My reaction is quick, quicker than Clove's. Without thinking, I whip around to face her and lunge for her. She's flat on the ground underneath me, struggling with my weight. I realize I have no weapons, only hands, and I must dismantle this girl with them. The hands slide around her neck and press up against her windpipe, tainting her perfect skin with another tribute's blood. She doesn't attempt to stop me; maybe she's already accepted these hands are the hands that will end her life.
A sharp pain enters my abdomen as I realize the actual reason she didn't stop me: she was pulling a dagger from her belt to stab me. I grunt loudly and roll over, holding my stomach in agony. She doesn't hesitate to come after me, and immediately after wielding the blow to my stomach, her hands grab my head and thrust it into her knee, creating spirals of pain. The next image I see is fuzzy, the world crumbling around at the edges. I know Clove is crouched over me, a knife in my face. The only thought that I can muster is, My beautiful clover.
"What did you call me?" she spits, seething, but the anger is falling away like little splinters of glass from a breaking window. Her knife is held against my throat, but she hasn't sliced through me yet. I vaguely wonder why, and slowly come out of my haze.
"Clover. You're my beautiful clover. Clover. Clover," I whisper, pulling on my own memories to reassure myself of what's happening. She shakes her head and presses harder on my throat, producing drops of blood, but I quickly dismantle her knife and shove her to the ground next to me. She struggles to regain the upper hand, climbing back up, but I shove her to the ground again, and kneel on top of her legs while holding her wrists down.
"What do you mean?" she shouts into my face, fighting to shove me off of her. "Get… off!" she screams in frustration, sweating profusely. I wonder if she ever thought about being in this situation herself. She's always taken such pride and excitement in seeing suffering in other people, but when it happens to her…
"I'm not going to kill you!" I yell at her, trying to stop her squirming. She does for a moment, but then continues to struggle again, assuming it's a trap. "What do you mean? What are you talking about?" she keeps screaming, resorting to wiggling left and right to try to get up.
I can't stop myself. I lean my face closer, and heft more of my body weight onto her middle, and she produces a guttural noise in a realization that she's so close to death. "I mean… I can't," I whisper. Her face displays an array of emotions, mostly skeptical of my motivations, but she stops moving. "Well, why not?" she says back, mystified.
I look into her emerald green eyes, trying to absorb the pain and make her realize what I want to say. The words form at the back of my throat, stinging my mouth as they make their way towards her. They crawl painfully over my tongue, and at first I think I won't be able to say them. I force them back down, reasoning that I don't know how to love her, but when I look at the creature beneath me and seep into her eyes, I can't formulate a reason not to love her.
So why can't I say the words?
Instead of saying it, I decide the only way to convey this to her is to show her. I can't wait any longer; I can't keep this emotion bottled inside of me. I'm just a boy and she's just a girl, and we're trapped in this cycle together. The only way out of it is together, which is, ironically, the one way we're forbidden to get out of it. Who is this beastly beauty in front of me?
I dip my face lower to hers and make eye contact again before letting my eyes flutter closed, my lips ghosting over hers. She relaxes beneath me upon the touch, and her lips move up slightly to meet them. I retract my lips a bit, wanting to be in control of this moment, and she takes the cue. Her chest rises quickly, her breath hitching in her throat. She blows a warm breath over my lips, waiting for me to make the next move. I lower my lips again painfully slowly, until they brush up against hers. I wait, and methodically push my chin closer to extend my lips towards her mouth, and close over it slowly. She does not react at first, taken aback by the situation. Slowly, her lips separate slightly, and she takes my bottom lip between hers while I take her top lip between mine. My mind can't figure out exactly what's going on in this foreign experience, but we kiss and suck on each other's lips for what feels like too short a time.
I'm still holding her down when I pull back, and a sudden realization comes that this won't last. One of us has to die, and the other has to go home. But I can't kill her because…
"Because I love you," I whisper, my voice barely registering as a sound. I look over her features, and push myself off the ground, intent on one thing.
"Wh-what?" Clove asks shakily.
"Yeah, hard for me to believe, too," I call out, still scavenging for the item I'm looking for, not really paying attention to much else other than that one thing.
Clove is still speechless, but the stomping from behind me tells me that she's gotten up and is walking towards me. Then, I see it. A sparkling diamond among blood and gore. A twinkling silver implement of a beauty's arsenal. The element of a mere boy's demise.
"Cato, what the hell are you doing?" she yells, noticing the weapon positioned over my heart. She's trying to stop me, but I can't let her. She deserves to go home; she deserves a better life. I can give that to her.
"I love you, Clove," I say again, backing away from her before she can stop me. "Go home to 2. Love is possible, and I want you to find it with someone so you don't have to be so… broken." She stops in her tracks, and I mimic her actions. "I know that's why you like killing. You want to inflict the same pain you've felt all your life and I don't want that to happen anymore. Please, just let me do this for you."
She lunges for the knife, and knocks me onto the ground. "Don't do it, Cato! Don't!" she screams, pulling it away and cutting her hands up in the process.
"Stop it, Clove!" I yell in desperation, and shove her into the ground. I scrabble for the knife, and when I finally get my hands on it, I plunge it deep into my chest. My body immediately flames with pain and I scream out. A fire consumes my whole body, agony eating through me. Clove appears at my side, and numbness begins to take over as she fades in and out of focus.
"Cato," she moans, tears slipping out of her eyes. "Why did you do this? I can't live without you, Cato. Please, don't leave me. Don't."
I grasp her hand firmly and smile at her. "My clover," I whisper, and she nods at me. "I want you to know that I love you so much. And I want the best for you. I love you, Clove. I love you. Find someone to love with everything you have, and don't let what's happened to you before change it. You're a beautiful person, Clove, and I'll love you forever." A blinding light shines, and I start to think I'm dead, but then I see her again.
"I love you too, Cato. I will never, ever forget you. I love you so much. I have since the day I met you. I love you," she whispers. She is my everything.
And then there is nothing.