I'm Insane to Love You
A/N: My first Hunger Games story. I was surprised to find that I like CatoxClove, but I do. I haven't decided if I should alter the story so that Cato and Clove make it out with Katniss and Peeta, not alter the story line completely, but just let them survive. If I do alter it, then it'll be a longer story, if I don't, then it'll just end when Clove dies. Well, if you guys like it as I keep going, then you can vote on whether I should end it true to the book, or change it. Anyway, enjoy.
P.S. The way I store my chapters is by putting their acronyms down, this stories is IITLY, and I saw it, and all I thought was ITALY! So I gave my story a nickname. Enjoy my story Italy! 8D
~2XA
Chapter One: Clove
I am Clove. I have never been the most beautiful girl, or the most precious, or the most social. I have never been the most loved, or friendliest, or happiest. I have never been the girl with choices, or friends, or good memories of family. I have never been anything like that. Some days after training, I would lay my head on the pillow and cry myself to sleep wishing I could be just like those girls, because if I was, then I wouldn't be forced to train every day like I am. Maybe then I would be a lot happier, and feel a lot better.
However as Clove, I am a very clever girl. I have always been detached, sarcastic, sneaky, and dark. I have always been slightly sadistic, dangerous, rude, and cruel. I have always had a sick obsession with death and torture. Perhaps that's why I am perfect for the Hunger Games…perhaps that's why they chose to place me here...in the harsh underground training to be a Hunger Games candidate. Unlike many of the participants around me, I was one who did not want to be in a place that brought all the bad parts of me and embraced them.
My detachedness, my sarcasm, my sneakiness, my darkness, my sadism, my danger, my rudeness, and my cruelty, they were all accepted here. My obsession with death and torture was actually approved. And I hate every moment of it.
I did not want to be the monster they were making me out to become…and yet…I did nothing to stop any of it, in fact, I let all of it continue. What kind of person was I?
I was the sort of person who went to the Hunger Games because she was forced…and because no one wanted to go against Cato. When I was chosen, I expected to hear a chorus of "I volunteer!" from the girls around me. No one said anything. It was silent. So I walked, ever so slowly up the walkway towards the podium with the cruel looking, pudgy woman on it, and I looked at her aggravatingly happy face as she 'congratulated' me. I secretly cursed myself. Why was it my look to be standing next to Cato as we went to the Hunger Games to kill each other?
It's not that I didn't like Cato; in fact, Cato was quite the charmer and the looker. We were friends actually, close friends, and if I could say that I had any friends, let alone a best friend, I would say that it would have to be Cato. It was definitely not that I found him repulsive, because he shared the same ruined traits that I did, although he did welcome them happily. No, none of those reasons caused my unhappiness to be with Cato. Actually, the only thing I didn't like about it was that it meant certain death. Cato would be a favorite of District Two. I had no choice but to let him win, or face the wrath of everyone in District Two. I knew that I was going to die.
Is it upsetting that I was actually looking forward to it?
It was then that I got a better understanding of how messed up I was.
When I got to say goodbye to my family, my mother, father, and little brother, it was quiet, un-touching, and nerve-racking. Them being in the same room as me annoyed me…my parents that is. My brother, he hugged me, cried, begged me not to go with the 'big bad' Cato. I didn't respond, but I kissed him on the head goodbye and when he left, I knew that I wouldn't grow up and get to know what he was going to look like.
I cursed at myself for thinking about it.
When I first saw Cato with the lady who'd chosen my name, who was named Delilah, we ate in silence. Our mentors spoke to the lady with false cheery demeanors. They were playing a game I wasn't meant to play. Cato ate his food and left without a word. It only took me a matter of minutes to escape with him. When I walked to my room, which happened to be beside his, I found him leaning against the door with his head in his hands. He looked up sharply when he heard me coming.
"Clove," Cato said softly. I blinked unemotionally at him, and suddenly, a crazy smirk slid unto his face. "I love it when you do that." He said to me. I raised a brow at him in question for two reasons. One, I didn't know what he loved. Two, I had never expected the word 'love' to come out of Cato's mouth.
"Well don't you realize that you always have this sense of...nothing…when you're around? You manage to emit nothing. You're invisible because you don't have a feeling. It's emptiness. Sort of bliss…" Cato said, sounding as if he was talking more to himself than anyone else, most definitely not me. I blinked at him again.
"Well…No I never quite noticed that. Goodnight Cato…see you in the morning." I divert his question, escaping into my dark room and shutting the door tightly behind me. My eyes widen in surprise when I hear Cato's fleeting words that came in a response to my departing.
"Yes…but not long after that."
Even now I am no closer to understanding whether he meant that I would be dead soon by his weapon, or if he would be the one to fall to his doom.
1…2…3…4…5
When I woke up, Cato had managed to put himself in my room. He was sitting in the corner in a chair, watching out of the window of the train with only the slightest hint of any interest. Although I was extremely alarmed, I took my time, stretching, and then sitting up with a nonchalant yawn. I looked at the blonde handsome boy in my room. I smirked at the thought of it. A crazy blonde handsome boy in the psychopath's room, both of whom had the possibility of killing the other at one point or another.
"Is there a reason you chose to intrude on my morning?" I asked, my eyes scanning over him. He was in nothing but an undershirt and some regular blue jeans. His blonde hair was tousled, his belt un-looped, and his shoes untied. "You sure look ready for the day about to come." I offer when he says nothing. After he continues his silence, I shrug, standing up, awkwardly aware that I was in nothing but an overly large t-shirt and socks. My hair was thrown all over my head from the nightmare I'd had about the games. I wasn't sure why I was so afraid of the nightmare, as it was only a dream about Cato stabbing me (or at least, I assumed he was stabbing me). The only disturbing thing about it was that Cato was crying madly, screaming, and saying that he'd avenge my death. I shook off the thoughts of the dream.
"You look very pretty when you wake up," Cato said when I came out of the nice bathroom that reminded me sourly of the good ones back at home. I had just showered, and was still in my t-shirt, but was now bare-foot. I was facing away from him, looking in a mirror at my own reflection. My hair was now dripping with water and it was still messy and un-brushed. My dark grey eyes were wide at his comment, and my pale-skin, with the smallest amount of freckles, stood out among the darkness of all the other colors that rested on me. "You should leave it just like that." Cato said, his eyes scanning over me slowly.
"Do you think?" I ask him quietly, eyes watching him, and I let the smallest amount of amusement slip into my eyes and a smirk on my face. He grinned wildly at it.
"Yes. I think it'll be perfect. It'll give you a kind of…different look. A wild look," Cato explained. "Exotic and beautiful." His smile softened. I coughed a little, awkwardly because it was strange to be hearing compliments from a soon-to-be murderer. I stood there, touching my hair but doing nothing to change it, while he sat there watching me, saying nothing. After a while, I knew that if I didn't change clothes, then I would be late, and I didn't want to be late.
"I have to change," I told Cato, but of course he didn't respond. "Can you leave now?" I looked at him, eyes narrowing when he didn't move. He smirked at me, only turning around to face the other way. The thing I should do, to prove to him that I'm not a cowardly girl, would be change anyway. It would be embarrassing and weird, but I needed to prove to him how tough I was. I needed him to know that I wouldn't die easily. I wanted to die with some dignity.
I changed into a black shirt, which was tight fit and slid down to below my hips. I put on simple black jeans as well, seeing no need to dress up. I made sure never to look at Cato, because I didn't want to know if he was looking or not. When I was done changing, I was surprised to see that Cato was standing by the door, hand on the door knob. He looked back at me, eyes flashing a strange emotion before going cold.
"You have nothing to prove to me, Clove." He said lowly. "I know you're strong. I only need to know how much sanity you have left."
1…2…3…4…5
About an hour after the strange encounter with the other tribute from District 2, I was walking to the empty train car so I could be alone. When I got out there, I sat in one of the first chairs and watched as the things outside blurred past. I might've been out there for about 30 minutes.
"Hey," A woman's voice greeted me. Although I didn't know who she was, and I wanted to know, I didn't turn around. I hoped she wasn't Enobaria, one of my mentors from the previous Hunger Games. Enobaria was not only intimidating, but easily angered, and she was annoyed by my silence. The woman came to sit on the opposite side of the seat by me. Out of the corner of my eye, I could see her. It was Lyme. Lyme was tall, pretty, and strong looking. She had blonde hair that cascaded down her back in a long elaborate braid. She was wearing a simple outfit, jeans and a white t-shirt. Her green eyes held amusement in their depths, and she sat calmly and gracefully.
"Hello, Lyme," I greet her. "Is there a specific reason you're here?" I ask. Lyme smiled lightly at me. Shaking her head, she sighed.
"No, but Brutus asked me to find you," I snorted at the man's name. Cato and Brutus were close, as they had a lot in common. Although secretly, I knew that Cato scared even Brutus. "I don't like to be bossed around by him, but any excuse to get away." Lyme's smile grew. I gave her a small laugh.
"I don't like getting bossed around either," I nod at her. Lyme took her hand to her blonde hair and twisted the locks. She bit her lip, and for a few seconds, she seemed innocent, as innocent as a 34 year old can be. "Um, well, Brutus wasn't the only one who asked to see you." She said softly, her eyes flicking around nervously.
"Who else could want me?" I ask, actually intrigued now. Had Enobaria asked? Or Sasha, my clothes designer, or maybe it was Delilah, District 2's tribute chooser.
"Cato," I looked at her in surprise. Why did Cato want me?
"What for?" I look at my hands, deciding to avoid her eyes.
"I'm not sure, he said he'd be in his 'chair' and that you'd know what he meant by that," Lyme explained. I sighed, but stood up anyway, before I could leave, Lyme stood up quickly. "Wait," She stopped me. "Do not get caught up with Cato. I know he's handsome, and can be charming, and his ruthlessness is probably a key point for you, but this is serious." Lyme tells me, her eyes narrowing.
"I am not 'caught up' with Cato," I snapped at her. "How stupid would it be for us to fall in love, when we're going to go, and he's going to kill me?" I didn't realize how loud I was getting. Lyme's eyes widened in surprise, and I looked away. Ashamed of my outburst, I left without another word. I leaned against the wall of the hallway, breathing in and out very slowly so I could calm myself down. Unlike the other disturbed kids who volunteered for the Hunger Games, I actually had a mental disease. I wasn't exactly sure when it came out or what it was, but it made me say and do things I didn't mean, and sometimes it was like I was standing outside my own body. After I calmed myself, I made my way to my room.
When I walked in, I shut the door, quietly, because I was beginning to have a headache. When I turned around to face Cato's chair in the corner, I was met with his blue eyes. Cato gave me a small smile, and as if he knew, his voice was soft and quiet. "Hey," He greeted me. I nodded, but said nothing, plopping down on my bed without a sound. We watched each other for a while. It felt as if most of what we did was simply watching and silence.
"What did you want?" I asked him, raising a brow, but keeping only curiosity in my eyes.
"I wanted to see you," He grinned, and laughed when I huffed at him. I had gotten up, and was about to leave the room, but Cato grabbed my hand before I could leave. "No wait." The smile had left his face and his eyes.
"What?" I looked at him, still keeping the question in my eyes.
"I…don't go…"
"Well I can't, with your hand on my arm like that. I'm not stronger than you Cato."
"I beg to differ," His voice quavered at that. I blinked at him, and despite myself, I felt worry shift my stomach. "I'm not so stable, Clove." It was one of the few times I'd ever heard Cato utter my name. I mean, sure, we were close back home in District Two. I sat with him at the lunches we had at the Game School, the school that taught us illegally about the Hunger games. I was partners with him during many of the tests and projects. We were together a lot throughout the years. Yet, and despite the fact that I secretly want to, we were never anything closer than the best of friends. Another reason I didn't want to die at the hands of Cato.
"I know that, neither of us are 'stable' that's why we were the top of our class, Cato. That's what makes us dangerous," I answer, using a soft voice that I rarely use. Without releasing me, Cato pulled me to my bed, forcing me to sit excruciatingly to him. He held my arm tightly, refusing to let me leave. I felt like a captive.
"What if I don't want to be so dangerous? What if I want my sanity? And a life…with anyone I'm with…with anyone I want…? What about that?" Cato asked, slowly holding my arm harder and harder. I knew that it would bruise, but I did nothing to stop it.
"I don't know Cato. It's not like we can't get out of this and have any of that." I looked up at him. I realized how short I was often at times like this. He was much taller than I was, at 5'4 and 100 pounds, my size made me seem like such an easy target. However my mental instability makes me seem a whole lot more intimidating.
"We," Cato gave a soft sad smile. "You said we as if I could have that with you." His eyes lightened up at the thought. I stuttered, because that's not what I meant. I didn't necessarily mean 'we' as in we. It doesn't seem to matter, because Cato's smile grows wider when I don't give him a quick 'no'. "You don't believe it do you?" He asks me, his smile grows even bigger somehow as I blink at him questioningly.
"Believe what?" I narrowed my eyes at him. He stood up, his blue eyes filled with amusement. He released me, frowned slightly at the purple-black bruise on my arm, but quickly smiles again and makes his way to the door. His hand rests on the handle.
"Oh nothing," He says quietly. "I'll see you later Clove." He leaves, escaping without a sound.
"I don't see why you wanted to see me!" I yell at him. I am left with only the sound of his door shutting and his sharp mocking laugh. When I'm sure he's gone into his room, I throw an annoyingly fluffy pillow at the door and lay back on my bed. I finally let sleep fall over me, dreaming of a mysterious blonde boy with crazy blue eyes and a knack for breaking down all my walls.
A/N: Hope you liked it!
~2XA
