We are cold, blank monsters. Our hearts only beat for blood and glory. Our brains are formulated to interpret battle strategies and survival techniques. And our bodies were made to kill. . They were raised as monsters, trained at a young age to fight into the prestigious Hunger Games held at the superior, peculiar Capitol. The Careers are not supposed to feel or show any form of emotion except to construct fear or intimidation.

Then why, at this particular moment, does Clove feel rage? She is staring at the girl from District 1, who is foolishly giggling like a pathetic little girl and batting her eyes so much it looks as if she's having a seizure. Glimmer, Clove remembers, is her name.

What a stupid name, she thinks.

Clove's dark, bold eyes were set straight on the gorgeous blonde as she flirts aimlessly at Cato. She could feel her blood boiling and she unintentionally sharpens her knives. Any more and they would be jagged enough to kill a fly. But that doesn't stop her. Clove continues to sharpen her favorite knife as she stares at the two supposedly fantastic Career tributes. She would kill both of them. As painful as possible. Cato would have it the worse. Clove watches him carefully as he allows Glimmer to feel his biceps and then to have her giggling like a child.

He lets her touch him, she wonders, and he gets so worked up when someone wants to talk to me.

The knife she is holding is about as sharp as ever. She tests it out by shooting it straight at a lizard she spots on the ground. Perfect. The point hits directly into the animal's stomach and dies in an instant. She feels no remorse, no guilt.

It's just an animal after all. They're no different than humans, she thinks, and humans are worse.

She begins to feel bored after killing the lizard and goes back to shooting daggers at the pair of lovebirds a couple yards away from her. She catches Cato's chilly eyes that stare back at her and he smirks. Clove is positively fuming now. He does this on purpose- to get her all worked up. It's driving her insane. She glares back at Cato, acknowledging the fact that she knows what he's doing. Cato, however, seems even more overjoyed and continues laughing along with Glimmer and whispering seductive thoughts into her ear. In her head, Clove is thinking of a million ways to kill them. Straight in the heart with a spear. Unexpectedly with a snare. Slow and painfully around the body. If she has time, maybe she'll give them a thousand cuts. A wicked smile splashes onto her face- all spelling "Pathetic". That's who they are anyways.

And then a snap sounds behind her. Immediately, Clove is prepared and has a small knife in her hand- elevated and pointed. She stops when she sees Marvel, the boy from District 1, standing in front of her with his hands raised in surrender.

"Whoa, whoa Knife girl" he says with a smirk, as if the little nickname he just gave her wasn't annoying. "It's just me."

Clove steadies herself and lowers her knife. "Well, don't sneak up behind me like that." She tried to sound intimidating but it ended up more light-hearted than she wanted.

He laughed, seemingly amused by her presence and her technique. "At least you were ready," he says, "it's nice to see a girl know how to fight."

"Are you saying girls can't fight?" Clove snaps back immediately, although she knows that his observation should be considered a compliment.

"No," he responds, shaking his head as he went, "it's just most girls don't know how to defend themselves."

"I do," Clove says confidently. This time, the tone in her voice was menacing. The Capitol audience must love her right now. Not only is Marvel acknowledging her talent, but Clove, herself, is obviously someone to look out for. The ones at home wouldn't be surprised at her wit. She is good.

"Well," Marvel smiles and raises his hand to brush back her hair, "that's why I like you."

Clove blinks rapidly and takes a small step back. No one has ever said that to her. Not even Cato, when they're alone in his room. He doesn't say much to her at night. In fact, they rarely speak to each other. But they both know that there is some sort of connection between them and that is why Clove stays over in his room sometimes.

But that was before the games. This is now and now, Marvel is smiling at her like a complete idiot and Clove doesn't know what to think.

"I-I don't re-

Clove doesn't have time to finish because she hears a screeching scream from the Barbie Doll Glimmer and Marvel is abruptly on the ground- pinned down by Cato. They are both struggling at first, but eventually, Cato has him. He is thrashing and beating and punching at Marvel in so many different ways that Clove is sure the audience would faint from this much excitement. In a second, Clove is trying, desperately, to separate the two while Glimmer stands aside like the pathetic little twat she is.

"STOP!" she shouts and starts muttering to herself about how completely stupid she is for giving away their location because of the two idiots. She grabs Cato's arms and uses all the strength she can muster to peel him away from Marvel. But she is unsuccessful. Cato ignores her and continues to beat at him brutally. Clove knows better than to give up and let him kill Marvel before she gets the last word of their conversation. She instantly grabs a small pocket knife from her jacket and stabs Cato right in his upper arm. He yells from the pain and releases Marvel. She takes that opportunity to cut in between them and stands directly facing Cato, who is covering his upper arm with his hand.

"YOU FUCKING IDIOT!" Clove screams. "YOU THINK IT'S OK TO FUCKING KILL ONE OF YOUR ALLIES RANDOMLY WITHOUT GIVING ME A HEADS UP?"

Cato is panting from the abuse he's given Marvel but remains silent.

"I WAS TALKING TO HIM, CATO! AND HE'S OUR ALLY! LOGICALLY SPEAKING, WE NEED HIM. AND YOU CAN'T JUST IGNORE THAT!"

Clove is seething with rage. She turns around to see Marvel completely passed out by the assault. She feels herself start to calm a bit, secretly imagining him dead so that there will be one less tribute left to kill. Clove turns back to Cato and says, so quietly and cold that it's almost a whisper, "He's good at finding other tributes. How the hell do you think we got to kill that one girl yesterday?"

Suddenly, Clove is up against a tree and Cato is blocking her every move. "I don't give a fuck if he's good at licking his shoe," he says. She can tell by the hardness in his voice that he is completely serious and for a moment, she is afraid he may do something lethal. Although she knows he'll never intentionally harm her, the thought crosses her mind a couple times when he's angry. "Stop talking about him. Stop thinking he's so great. Because, Clove, he's not."

"I'm not-

"Yes you are, Clove" he interrupts. "I don't want you talking to him. I don't want you even close to him, you understand?"

"Oh get over yourself, Cato," Clove says, "He just said he likes me."

He slams his hand so hard into the tree that it will sure leave a dent. "I don't want him to like you."

"Well, it doesn't bother me" Clove adds. For a second, she swears she saw a shot of pain in his eyes but it was immediately dismissed and the grip around her arm tightens. "Besides…..you never-

Clove stops herself. She wasn't going to tell him how he never shows his feelings towards her. It was a Career thing. We weren't supposed to have emotions. But ironically, every one has been going against the rules lately in the Games.

Cato's face suddenly falls and he looks almost disappointed. In what? Himself? No, never. He searches her face for a moment and then he does the unexpected. He leans in and kisses her so gently, that Clove almost melts. The cameras are obviously all shooting directly at the District Two tributes right now and Clove wonders why he is doing this. This will show weakness. Their mentors must be livid. Cato's arms slowly snake around her waist and he pulls her in closer. Clove is practically whimpering. It felt so great and so perfect that she wanted to stay there at this spot, forever.

And then that moment ends. Cato pulls away looks down at her with his glistening eyes and when he speaks; his voice is so tender that it doesn't sound like him. "I'm sorry," he pushes a few strands of jet-black hair behind her ear, "but only I get to do that to you."

She didn't know if he was talking about their kiss or the hair thing, but she didn't care. He was kissing her again and Clove could hear Glimmer's footsteps walking away from the campsite and her unforgettable sniffing as she went. Clove couldn't stop herself from smiling.