Clato. When Clove dies, she remembers painful memories with Cato. Rated T for HG gore.
Heys guys, please enjoy my wonderful one shot! Yay! its kinda bad, but Im bored so ya.
Clove lay gasping on the salty-stained grass. It was warm and soft, and it helped to ebb the attention away from her throbbing, dented temple. There was no way she could live now, even with the Capitol's help. No one cared about her anyways. She was an only child from District Two. Her father was always busy, never home. Her mother died in a plague that passed the District's when she was four. The only person who really cared was Cato, and she had ruined that already. The fire was draining out of her, she could no longer kick with the passion she once had. She couldn't hate, the only emotion she was ever sure of. Even now, she couldn't think of a single reason to hate Katniss Everdeen, Fire Girl, or even Thresh, the person who had keep her away from her kill and made the predator prey. Ok, maybe she could think of a few. But the hate could only stay a few moments until slipping away. The only thing she really cared about now was spending the last few moments of her life with Cato. She already knew why when she screamed Cato, he didn't come. He didn't care about her anymore. She had broke him for the last time. And now, she was the broken one.
She still remembered that fateful day, the previous day in the arena. Cato and Clove had known each other, grew up with each other, they were an unknown Romeo and Juliet, in the end. When they saw each other at the reaping, they instantly knew. They would be picked. And of course, they're right.