Hi guys, it's me, M here :) Now I'm slowly writing up on my other fandoms too so plz excuse the long stretches in between updates :3

Disclaimer: I don't own the amazing Hunger Games.

He'd often seen her at their school, all alone as she walked past him and his boys. Dark head held high, that defiant glimmer in her chocolate brown eyes as she strode past their usual hang out. That was when they were eight.

As the years passed by, they hung out in the same place and she walked by, every single school day without fail. When they turned sixteen, his boys would hoot and whistle in her direction. Her face would be set in a such a cruel expression, he was sure even the Devil would be scared off. She was thirteen then, young and fresh.

But this was their world. Everyone started young, hoping to get some pleasure out of life before they were reaped, which happened to some but not all. Then again, no one knew when their last night in their homes might be.

His boys often talked about her. "... That brunette chick with the killer body…" And soon enough he found himself checking her out too.

No, of course he didn't hoot and catcall like the other idiots. He just sat back and pretended to sleep every time she by, looking at her through half closed eyes. And he saw her sneak looks at him too, quick glances but her eyes took everything in. He worked out of course, training to be a Career and all. Girls had often commented on his blonde hair and strong features. He was proud of his looks and confident in his abilities and made sure he carried himself that way. So why wouldn't she check him out?

He didn't hang out with his boys that day, and later he regretted it. He got the call during his Career training.

"We're following Dark and Beautiful," said one of his friends. "And boy, she is looking a la mode."

"What do you plan to do? Offer her a flower?" he asked with a laugh, draping a towel across the back of his neck. The sweat glistened on his naked upper body.

"No, something better." he replied. The tone of his voice betrayed everything. Cato understood the idea of getting started early, but rape was one thing he hated. After all, his sister hadn't survived her raping…

"Don't you do it!" he yelled into the phone, but his friend had already cut the line. He cursed and dropped the device, sprinting off and grabbing his jacket on the way.

Every step he took, he was filled with dread. He wasn't going to make it in time. He didn't even know where they were. He heard yells of pain and a scream as he neared their usual hang out spot. He found the gang two streets down, but not in the best shape.

The girl was trying to hold together a fighting stance, but her hands and knees were shaking. Her thick brown hair had been ripped out of it's braid and stuck to her face with red, sticky blood. He lip was split and a big bruise appeared right above her left eye. Her jacket was ripped, and he couldn't help but notice that she had exchanged her usual jeans and hoodie for a flowy dress that was now blood spattered and ripped.

And on the floor all around her, were his friends in different stages of consciousness. Two were out cold, not moving a muscle. One was groaning as he turned onto his side and the fourth was on his knees, panting hard.

"Don't come any closer!" she shrieked as Cato tried to approach her. He held his hands up in a sign of surrender and moved closer. She was trembling as he gently took her wrist and led her away from that alley.

He would keep an eye on her at school from the next day, every day. He never forgave his friends. He'd nod in greeting at lunch break and she would smile, blush and look away.

Her name was Clove, that's what she had told him. She was also training as a Career. He'd seen her practice throwing knives, and she never, ever, missed. For a few months they passed each other looks, and mumbled a greeting. Until one day she broke away.

Seeing her up on the stage next to him ached a little. He should have known it might come down to this. He knew Clove broke away because if they ever ended up in the ring together, neither of them would be able to kill the other.

But she was different now. She held herself upright and proudly, defiantly. She was a picture of calm and cool, not at all worried by the fact that she was handing up her life. She didn't even so much as glance at him the whole while.

No one volunteered for her, and now me felt a little guilty for volunteering himself. But she brushed him off, and he was fine with that. Hurt a teensy bit, but fine. They would have to stick together for the first half of the Games, because they were both Careers after all.

Odds were that she'd get killed by someone else.

Their Roman get-up was annoying and heavy. He slouched, sulking at the idea of riding a carriage (Who did that anymore!?) especially next to Clove. A frozen barrier as thick as his arm had been put up between them. They never knew each other. They avoided looking at each other and avoided any sort of contact. They even stood on opposite ends of the chariot.

But then why did he keep glancing her way, catching himself staring at her perfectly formed lips and the curves of her body when she wasn't looking? Her braid had grown longer and thickened, the colour was as dark as a raven's wing. He noticed the slightest things about her; the way she walked, the way she crinkled her nose whenever she was about to throw a knife, even the way her dimples danced across her light freckles every time she would smile or laughed. Why was he such and idiot for falling for her?

Glimmer was the kind of girl who caught your eye easily. And sure enough he caught her's too. They passed comments back and forth, sat together and talked. She would smile at him, laugh at his jokes and touch his arm. She was actually a bit of an airhead, so why was he hitting on her?

His brain told him it was because he'd never get the girl he wanted. His subconscious told him it was to make Clove jealous.

And then he noticed Marvel and Clove, laughing and talking. Marvel had an arm around her waist as they strolled towards the door. And something in his chest tightened.

She looked absolutely stunning in her orange strapless dress. The trail was so long, she had to hold it up with both hands. The makeup was simplistic but really brought out the colour in her cheeks and the gold in her dark, dark eyes. Her dainty smile was the crowning jewel of her look. A queen walked onto that stage, not just a simple girl from District 2.

After the interview was over, he broke all his oaths and strode over to her, ready to praise her with every word of compliment he knew. She turned to see him coming, and smiled that shy smile of years ago. His heart soared, but it was short lived. Glimmer spun him around and grabbed the lapels of his tux, pushing him back into the wall with her rosy lips on his. When the blonde girl finally broke away, he turned to see the end of an orange dress disappearing through the glass doors.

"Clove!" he called out as he ran after the retreating girl. She was already in the elevator and the doors were closing. The gap was enough to show him her tear streaked face.

He took the stairs. Their rooms were only on the second floor, so he made it up the stairs fast enough. Clove was standing in the hall, leaning against the wall, her fists scrunching up her dress. She sniffled as she tried to hold back the tears. He approached her, slowly.

"Clove…" he began.

"Come any closer and I will fix you to the wall with a knife in your brain." she hissed at him. Her mascara left black tracks down her face.

"I didn't mean to hurt you," he began again as the brunette looked away. "But I don't understand why you're so upset."

Clove's bitter laugh echoed down the hall and she turned to face him, advancing slowly.

"You have no idea," she growled, taking one step at a time. "How painful it is to see that girl smothered all over you that way." She was working him back now into a wall. "How much it hurts to see you with her, laughing, talking and enjoying yourself with her."

"What has she ever done to you?" Cato replied angrily, stopping in his tracks. Clove almost bumped into him and he grabbed her wrist to keep her from moving away.

"Done to me!?" the girl screeched. Her tears fell freely now, and her voice was hysterical. "I'll tell you what she did to me! She kept you away from me for all these days, that's what she did." She was sobbing now, hard and fast. He tried to hug her but she put a hand on his chest and stopped him. "Don't." she told him, and her voice cracked. "It's too late."

But it was only just beginning.

Cato put a hand under her chin and pushed her face up roughly. He looked straight into her brown eyes, searching for the signs, and he found them. She loved him, and there was no stopping him now.

Her lips were so soft and smooth, as if made of silk. He could taste her peach lipgloss as he smashed his lips to hers. She made a surprised sound and stumbled a bit, but Cato wrapped his arms around her waist and held her steady. Clove's hands eventually found purchase on his shoulders and then in his spiky blonde hair. She tugged on his hair, pulling him closer, deepening the kiss.

He growled in response, low in his throat and turned quickly, and pushed her into the wall. She gasped slightly at this action and he took advantage of her parted lips and let his tongue snake inside. She only gripped his hair harder, urging him on as he let his tongue explore her mouth.

They were both breathless by the time he pulled away, panting hard.

Her expression was a mixture of shock and new-found love, and her hands gripped his shoulders tight enough to make him wince.

"Don't stop." she murmured, seeking his lips again and he gave in to her wish. He placed his hands on her hips and pushed her up against the wall, keeping close proximity to her lips. She was just the right size, curvy and the perfect height to fit in his arms, like a hand in a glove. He could hear her breathing, sharp and hurried; she wanted more.

This time, he took his time, kissing first her collarbone, then her neck, her jawline, the corner of her mouth and then finally catching her lips in a butterfly kiss. Her reaction was instantaneous as she tried to pull him closer, but he flattened her hands back against the wall. He didn't let his lips linger on her mouth for more than a heartbeat, and it seemed to be annoying her because she kept chafing against his hold. He grinned slightly and closed in for another kiss, but this time, she was ready.

Cato hissed in pain as she bit into his lower lip and broke the thin skin. Clove giggled and took advantage of his distraction by ripping her hands out of his grip and slipping them into the back pockets of his dress pants.

"You're not going to win that easily," she whispered into his ear, and he turned his face to nip on her ear. She moaned slightly as he kissed a soft spot behind her ear and then grazed his lips down the side of her throat, stopping at her bare shoulder, kissing it. She slid her hands back out of his pockets and up under his blazer, digging her nails into his back.

"You have no idea," she whispered as he moved back up to her face. "How long I have wanted this."

"Why approach me now, then?" he asked, nudging her face gently with his nose.

"Because my family wouldn't let me be with you." she whispered. "I tried to explain to them that you were the one who saved me from those thugs but they…"

He put a finger on her lips to stop her from speaking. "I'm here with you now, and I will do anything to make you happy."

Her dark eyes shone with tears as she burst out laughing, wrapping her arms around his strong body. "Anything?"

"Absolutely."

"Take me to bed then."

He picked her up, bridal style and carried her to his room, kicking the door shut behind him. He put her down on her feet and led her towards the bathroom by the hand. He was hit by a strong sense of deja vu; the night he took her away from that alley.

Once inside, he turned the shower on and warmed up the water. He took his time, letting his intention sink into the girl behind him. She was far ahead of him. When he turned back, she had removed her high heeled sandals and the minimalistic jewellry and was in the process of undoing her hair, letting the thick brown locks fall around and frame her face. She had her back to him, and he strode over and began to undo the dress. The back was a lace-up and his fingers undid the threads easily. When he was done, he spun her around to face him and kissed her roughly to which she responded in kind.

His hands moved to the top her dress and began yanking it off her body, but she removed his hands and slipped the jacket of his shoulders. He removed it completely and discarded it, loosening the knot of his tie and discarding that too. Clove's fingers worked on the buttons of his shirt, practically ripping them off, and soon enough it lay on the floor in tatters next to the other articles of clothing. Clove dragged her nails over the muscles of his chest and stomach and reached for his belt. At the same time, he tugged on her dress and it fell away and revealed her bra and panties. They were a deep, rich purple and flattered her pale skin. He reached behind her back and undid the clasp of her bra, letting it fall to the ground between them. His fingers touched the center of her back and felt slightly raised flesh. He stepped behind her and saw a tattoo. Italic script spelling out four letters.

Cato.

"When did you get this?" he asked incredulously, brushing his fingers over the ink. Clove wrapped her arms around he body.

"Last year." she replied in a whisper. Cato bent down and kissed the tattoo and then left butterfly kisses up her spine.

"I love it." he said firmly, and slipped his fingers under the elastic of her panties. She finished with his jeans and pulled the last article of clothing off her body. Cato forced himself to remain calm, but it was testing his patience. With clothes on she was a queen, without them she was a goddess…

Clove placed a hand on his chest and pushed him back into the shower, following a second later. The warm water clung to her dark hair and dropped from her eyelashes like diamonds. She reached up and pushed his wet hair out of his eyes.

And they were wildly in love.

When he saw her lying there, his heart shattered into a million pieces and was ground into dust by the heel of the Capitol.

Two Victors, for the first time since the Games had begun. And his hope was shattered when he saw her lying there. Motionless, blood pooling out onto the ground from her head.

He sank to the knees next to her limp form and picked her up, cradling her body in his arms. He begged her to stay with him, gripping her so tightly to his body, hot tears running down his face.

It seemed as if the odds favoured pain.

Dawn began to break and he knew he couldn't go on anymore. The pain was too much. He'd lost too much. He didn't want to live anymore. The girl from 12 looked down at him. Through the haze of his pain, he saw Clove looking down, not Katniss. The same dark hair and same pale face. It was the stormy gray eyes that broke him out of his trance.

"Please." he begged, and a small tear formed in the corner of his eye. Not of pain, but of happiness. He was going to meet the love of his life again.

She wore an expression of pity and readied her bow

Long live this wild, wild love of ours, he thought. A faint hum of the arrow being loosed.

And everything was black.

Well, that's that :D Please fave :) Or at least R&R my pretties! Thanks so much! Also go check out my poll, for a next fanfic for all you multi-fandom people out there! Thanx guys!

-M