Lust:
The winter that I meet him was one of the worst District Twelve had ever seen. First, there was a mine collapse that took over one hundred men. Luckily Gale, who had begun work in the mines, was not one of them.
I recognize the blank stares in my school, the ones who force themselves to get up every day. I wore the same look years ago when my own father died. For a moment I am relieved that it is not me going through this again but rather them.
Then there was winter itself, harsh and unforgiving and wiping out what little food we had to begin with.
Nobody knows for sure how many died, there are always casualties in the winter. This year however, was one of the worst in my lifetime. Our classes were suddenly becoming less crowded and at lunch even the town kids would go hungry.
Bodies were burned almost immediately after death as disease began to spread around the District. Often, Gale and I would venture out to the woods and return empty-handed. What little game we managed to get was often starved itself.
My ribs were pronounced through my old clothes yet this was nothing compared to some of the others who resembled walking skeletons with skin stretched over their bodies.
Even Mr. Mellark could no longer afford to give out handouts. Somehow I knew that the Boy with the Bread would not be able to help me this time. Even he had lost a significant amount of weight, maybe not as much as the others but enough that he no longer wrestled in school.
Because of the mine collapse and all of the men lost, there was a state of emergency in which all 16-year-old boys were sentenced to the mines. After all, it was the winter and the Capitol needed its coal.
There were rumors that the girls would be sent down fairly soon but there was no official word on this yet.
I listen carefully for word on this particular rumor, terrified of going down there. It was the tomb for our dead with so many lost down there, my own father included.
I rarely saw Gale now, only on Sundays. It was often up to me to provide food for both of our families while he took care of the money.
I made an effort to go to the Hob as much as possible, so that the others might have their food too, but as winter grew on there was less and less to trade. Anything I managed to catch went to my family and Gale's.
I thought I knew hunger but what I felt now was something else entirely. It was the loss of hope, it was pain in every waking moment, it was me slowly rotting inside myself and being forced to watch the same happen to my sister.
So of course the last thing on my mind was the Victory Tour. I didn't even know it was happening until I saw the bright banners decorating the District on my way to school one morning.
I began to dread Sunday, when we'd all have to stand in the square and wear happy faces as though we were pleased to see our new Victor. I wonder if he would see it? The starvation and the lack of life we possessed here. I'm sure if he did manage to catch it he wouldn't care. He would probably be more anxious to make his way to the other Districts who were waiting to give him the royal treatment. I could care less at this point, the only thing on my mind these days was food and how to get it on the table that night.
I also hated the Victory Tour for starting on Sunday, the only day Gale and I had to hunt together. The ceremony would only last maybe 15 minutes at the most but everybody getting to the square and being accounted for would take at least an hour.
I hadn't eaten anything since Friday evening by the time Sunday came around, that morning it had been almost impossible to get out of bed. My body had grown weak and even the simplest of tasks took a great deal of effort. Hunting especially, which required so much walking and so much patience that it was easy to dread now.
I spent the morning getting ready and eating the food my mother had prepared. It was the last of our meat and was going to go bad soon if we didn't have it now. At least this is how I justify eating it.
In the past I would have given as much as possible to Prim. Now I cut our share even. There was no way I could be selfless anymore. How long would it be before I let my sister starve? I shake my head at the thought, despising myself for thinking this. It was true enough though, at some point a person can no longer bear starvation. At some point nothing matters but the next meal.
We go into the square just before noon, signing in and finding the Hawthorne's to stand with.
It's long after noon that he actually takes his place on stage. He stands there and has the audacity to look at us with disgust. Again, I'm reminded why I hated him during his Games. He looks on at us while the Mayor gives his speech.
I cross my arms, staring right at him and refusing to show any admiration. Much to my disgust in a sweep of the crowd amongst the other girls I spot something like infatuation.
I suppose I understand this, he is attractive. There is no argument there.
All I see is the blood on his hands. Namely Thresh's.
He stands there in a blue button up shirt and coat with black pants, still not affected by the coal that covers everything in this District. Especially the snow that is tainted.
I don't think I've ever hated anybody this much, maybe it's just because I'm so hungry or maybe it's the disgust that's clearly evident on his face. He has no right to judge us, he comes from a place where there must be so little suffering, I doubt he's ever been forced to watch people starve to death.
The Mayor continues to prattle on, oblivious to the monster that stands beside him. He clearly just wants to get this over with.
He knows, like we do, that we are the laughing stock of the country. We have only one living Victor, famous only for his constant drinking and shenanigans.
The square is quiet, by now we should be used to facing these Careers, these monsters. Somehow though, it seems to get harder every year. Maybe because they get more creative in killing. Certainly the boy on the stage is far more ferocious than his counterpart, say, 20 years ago.
I hear the sound of a soft giggle and trace it back to one of the girls who stands only a few yards from me. I glance up and realize it's because the boy is looking in her direction. Instantly I think of her as a traitor, how can she stand there and giggle when the boy up there killed so many children? None were from our District this year but plenty met their end to him, to Cato.
I glare at this girl for a moment before swinging my eyes back to the stage. The Peacekeepers, though more lenient to us here in Twelve, were often more brutal when there were cameras upon them. They can't have the Capitol thinking they were weak, could they?
My heart skips a beat when I finally focus on the stage, he was looking in my direction now. No, not in my direction, at me. Right at me, our eyes met and I thought it's so strange that my typical Seam eyes were staring at the eyes of a murderer. I didn't dare back down though, he may have won the Hunger Games but he would not win here.
I scowl at him, raising an eyebrow and daring him to look away.
He doesn't, of course he doesn't. Instead he continues to stare me. I know what he wants, he wants me to do just as the others did, he wants me to blush. He wants me look at my feet and let out a small giggle. He wants to know that he has an effect on me. He doesn't, I won't let him. I cross my arms and narrow my eyes.
We continue to stare at each other and I know the others are beginning to notice, I'm not sure who though, as I refuse to take my eyes off of him.
Eventually though, he's forced to look away as the Mayor announces his name and calls him over to the microphone. The crowd slowly begins to clap, told to do so by a small screen just below the stage and away from the view of the cameras and the Victor.
I clap my hands slowly though I quit as soon as I think I can get away with it.
He takes his place on the stage, confident and seemingly unaware that the whole country is watching him right now. What would I do if I were in his position right now? I'm not sure I could do it. Either that or I would be used to being the center of attention by the time the Victory Tour came around.
"It was an honor to fight in this year's Games," Cato begins, "and unfortunately I did not have the pleasure of facing your Tributes this year. However, I like to think that District Two and District Twelve will have that in the future. Especially now that I am a Mentor, I also like to think my future Tributes will face your future Tributes and that they will enjoy rivalry in the Games."
Small and quietly whispered voices sound throughout the District, each laced with disgust. This has no effect on Cato, who continues to prattle on about what an honor it was to fight. I try to imagine Thresh in his place, surely he wouldn't embody everything the Capitol was. Perhaps he would stand up there, quiet and recognizing the suffering he saw around him.
Or maybe that's not what Thresh would have done, I'm still not sure what I would've done if it were me up there right now, but surely it would be nothing like Cato. Finally he wraps up his speech and steps away from the microphone, allowing the Mayor to take it back and conclude this portion of the Victory Tour. There will be more events throughout the day, none of which the greater majority of District Twelve will be required to attend.
I accept this with enthusiasm, wondering if I can get away with hunting today. I don't think I have much choice, a day without even attempting to hunt is a day where we will definitely go without eating.
I glance over to Gale, he has the same look over him as I did when Cato spoke. So we are in agreement than? Yes, I see it when he looks over to me, Cato was a monster. It was obvious but it was still nice to have some support on it.
We make our way out of the square, our family sticking close together as not to be separated as everybody dispenses. Prim clutches onto my arm and just as we are about to exit the square, something compels me to look over and back to the stage.
He's standing there in the doorway to the Justice building, his eyes scanning through the crowd as he tries to pinpoint something. For a moment I have this wild idea that the face he looks for is mine. And then I smile and shake my head because it's probably the most ridiculous thing that I've ever thought. I glance away a moment later, just as he gives up and goes through the doors with his entourage. I like to think he didn't find what he was looking for.
After stripping out of our dress clothes and making sure our families were situated at home, Gale and I meet at the fence. We listen longer than we usually would, even tossing a few sticks at the wires to see if it is safe to go in today. The Mayor isn't blind to the suffering in his District, maybe that's why he leaves the fence off, for those who are willing to risk venturing out. However, it would be understandable if he decided to have them turned on today. There were plenty of strangers in the District today. If one of them were to see two skinny teenager sneaking under the fence surely they would report them.
There is no buzz nor is there a reaction to the sticks and stones that hit the wire. Gale shrugs and crawls beneath the cables, waiting for me on the other end. I follow a moment later and together we cover the evidence of our intrusion.
It's harder to do this in the winter, especially when there's snow out. It requires re-landscaping the entire area around it and then taking a step back to make sure it looks proper. There's also the matter of getting into the forest without leaving footprints. Anyone venturing out into the woods for the first time would be better off waiting until the spring, only having to worry about snapping twigs or walking in mud.
After we are out of the prying eyes of the District we no longer have to worry about covering our tracks. We walk in silence for a while, speaking even in hushed voices could scare away any game still lurking around. What in its right mind would willingly be near Twelve though?
As it turns out squirrels would be. I shoot down two of them, neither one has much meat on it but it will have to do for dinner for two families tonight.
We stumble upon gold, for District Twelve anyway. Maybe it was during the mine collapse at the beginning of this winter, maybe we just never stumbled on this part of the woods before. My bet is with the ground shifting, as I'm sure I know my woods fairly well.
There is a small pond that stems from the main lake. The greatest part of it though are the fish that swim under the frozen surface. My stomach grumbles and I know that tonight we will eat. I don't have much experience ice fishing but Gale does. He takes five, leaving the others to hopefully mate and continue to reproduce so that we might come back later. The fish themselves aren't that big either, 5 inches at the most. Two squirrels and five fish, it's the best we've had since the beginning of the season.
"We can sell the squirrels at the Hob. The fish we can divide." Gale says.
"You take three of the fish, you have more mouths to feed."
"You sure?"
"Of course." We both know why I'm doing this, while I'm starving and my family is starving, Gale's brother Rory has gotten worse and worse each day. His stomachs beginning to bloat and he shows the most common signs of dying. I know it's killing Gale not take more fish from the small pond.
It becomes fairly obvious that there is nothing else to catch for the day as we make our way back to the fence. We wait a moment, relieved to find that there is still no electricity flowing. We slip under with our game, starved and wanting only to eat and sleep.
Or maybe just sleep, because when I glance over at Gale he's mid-yawn once again. I stopped counting earlier but that's at least four by now.
"Go home Gale, I can handle the trade. I can bring the money afterwards."
He looks at me, grateful and ready to bolt home. However, he will do no such thing until he's absolutely sure that I can handle this. "Sae will rob you if I'm not there."
I manage a laugh, "Rob me? What did you do before me? She was bleeding you dry."
He doesn't say anything, shaking his head the back-and-forth with a smile on his lips. I'm glad that despite the hunger that plagues us we still have this together.
I give him my two fish for him to give to my mother on his way home. After this I make my way to the Hob, happy to finally have something to sell. I sell both squirrels to Sae who immediately begins working up her stew.
For the first time in a long time I feel good. The coins are heavy in my pocket and there is fish being prepared at home, the very thought of the smell adds a skip to my step.
In leaving the small knoll that the Hob rests on, not paying attention to my surroundings as I go on. It's a dangerous move on my part, anytime they wanted the Peacekeepers (despite being some of the Hob's biggest customers) could storm in and drag out everybody inside, take them to the square and have all of them executed.
I never really thought of this happening though, never could imagine it.
I don't recognize his voice right away or even realize it's me he's speaking to. When I do it takes everything in my power not to make a run for it.
"Stone Face, yeah it's you all right. The girl who never smiles."
There is no response to this which leads me to realize that this is directed to me. I glance around, not seeing anybody at first. He's an anomaly though. Well fed, clean, killer.
Suddenly, no longer surrounded by hundreds of people, he is much more terrifying. Cato, ruthless killer of 11 children, stands at the bottom of the knoll as though he were waiting for me to come down. I blink and try to keep a cool face. If I screamed they might hear me from the Hob, but really there's nothing they could do to help me. They wouldn't fight him, at most they would report him to the Peacekeepers who would have no power over the matter. He has the power to do anything he wants here.
I managed to stay indifferent under his scrutinization, blinking when he finally meets my eyes.
"You know most girls ask for an autograph when they meet me, the bolder ones ask for a kiss. I wonder what you'll ask for?"
I take a step closer, still a respectable distance away but enough to show that I'm not afraid of him. "I'll ask you to leave my District and I'll ask that you never return."
He laughs a full on laugh, throwing his head back and exposing his throat. I think if I had my bow right now I'd notch an arrow and put it right through his neck. Consequences be damned, my only regret would be that I didn't get Gale his money.
"Oh you're funny." He says when he eventually calms down, still smirking at me.
"Shouldn't you be off playing the Capitol Puppet?"
This brings a scowl to his face, he scrunches up his face and continues to glare at me. No longer amused and slowly receding back to the boy from the arena.
"It got boring. And pitiful. There's nothing even remotely fun to do around here. Of course you knew that didn't you?"
Furious and before I can even stop myself, I kick the snow at my feet to him. It's tainted with coal dust and I hope that it stains his pretty clothes.
He blinks, shocked at what I've just done. Maybe even more shocked than I am.
I'm about to storm off, leave him behind and hopefully never have to see his ugly face again.
I go right past him, keeping my head held high and ignoring everything he might say or do. I'm only a few yards in front of him when I'm suddenly hit in the back of the head, it doesn't hurt so much as shock me, yet I'm tempted to feel the back and to be sure there is no blood.
It's only when I see the small powder explosions of white that I realize what he's done, never really pegged this murderer to throw snowballs. I spin around on my heels, eyes wide and I'm sure looking as furious as I feel. I search for the words to express my anger towards him but no such words seem to exist.
Before I can think about it, before I even comprehend what I'm doing, I'm dropping to the ground and packing as much snow together as best as I can. I stand so quickly that my knees pop and black dots swim in my vision. It's not enough to stop me though as I hurl my snowball at him. He ducks just in time and it explodes somewhere behind him.
While he was ducking he already began making his next ball which he throws at me moments later. I jump out of the way and barely miss it. While I was getting out of the way though, he was already making the second ball which I managed to miss as well. It's the third that finally gets me, hitting me right in the chest and splattering against my clothes. I blink a few times before I'm able to see what he's done. I glare at the splotch on my shirt, aware that it will melt in only a few minutes but that he has won our fight. I think of continuing but it all seems useless now.
He's smirking, a satisfied look coming over his face as he looks on at me. The furry that takes over me has no words, none that I can think of at that moment. Who thinks of words when they are upset though? It's action, pure animalistic action.
And again, without much thought I'm running back towards him with no plan and no idea with what I'm getting myself into. I have no experience tackling a full-grown man but I think I had to have done something right. Either that or it was the surprise of what I was doing that made him suddenly collapse beneath me.
I have no idea what I planned after that so I restored to the only thing I think I could pull off. I move up so that I straddle his waist and then grab a handful of snow and throw it into his face.
He scrunched his eyes up tight, attempting to block my assault at first. He realized what a waste this was though and instead wrapped his arms around my waist and held on tightly as he rolled us over.
My back goes flat against the ground, the air leaving my lungs upon impact.
I struggle beneath him, doing everything I could to fight him off. There was really no point to it though. What could a starved girl from District Twelve do against the Victor from Two? That's when it really hit me who this was. Suddenly my struggle doubles as I attempt to get out from beneath him.
In one swift motion he grabs my arms and pins them above my head and moves so that he straddles my midsection, pushing his knees against my ribs. If I struggled at all his knees would surely leave a bruise. My legs were still free and I try to kick him or knee him in the back. It was no use though, he'd won our little fight and I was now completely at his mercy.
When I finally stopped struggling he smirked, "got a lot of fight in you Stone Face. Not enough though."
Something close to a growl escapes me as I glare up at him. "Get off of me!"
I think now is the time to try and scream for help. Surely somebody from the Hob wouldn't walk right past us? Maybe they wouldn't stop and help but I like to think they would go for help. Not that it mattered, what could anybody do?
The man above me could commit murder and walk away with no formal punishment. I didn't regret kicking the snow, or the impending snowball fight, it was the tackle that I probably should have thought through.
Still smirking he says, "you do exactly as I say and we both walk away with no problem. Got that?"
I continue to glare at him, refusing to budge. He unpins one of my arms and quickly grabs it with the other, holding both my arms above my head with no trouble. Now with the free hand he grabs a handful of snow and drags it across my forehead and lets it melt during the slow journey down my face.
He grabs another handful and repeats this process, lets it rest on my forehead as it slowly melts. My eyes closed on instinct when his palm brushed over my eyes. I had to blink several times at the water at the tip of my eyelashes threatening to spill onto my eyes.
He keeps going all the way to my neck with the next handful of snow. My face feels so cold that it was nearly numb. When he grabs another handful I reluctantly said, "got it."
"You do exactly as I say?"
"Yes." I bite out, upset with him and with myself.
"Good. Now Stone Face what's your real name? "
Still glaring at him I answer reluctantly, "Katniss."
He watches me for a moment, as though to determine if I'm lying or not. Eventually he seemed satisfied that I was not and slowly gets off of me. I jump up, ready to bolt in any direction he's not in. His arm shoots out and grabs mine before I can even take a step. "What's that up there?"
He points to the Hob.
I'm frozen on spot, he comes from the District that trains Peacekeepers, it only makes sense that he would turn the Hob in to the Capitol.
"Answer me, Katniss."
I bite my lip and think of any way I can get out of this. He's not holding my arm to tightly but I have no doubt he could snap it with a seconds notice.
"It's a market." I say.
"It's a shady market if you ask me."
I dare to look from him to the Hob and then back to him. "It's probably closed by now so you should just go."
"You're a terrible liar Katniss, people have been coming and going for a while now. Actually, I'm surprised nobody caught us a few minutes ago."
"Me too… I guess."
"You think they'd have booze there?"
"What?" Was he turning into Haymitch Abernathy? Needing to drown the past in alcohol. "Yeah, I guess it would." No matter how little food there was Ripper always had enough alcohol to keep at least Haymitch drunk. She'd probably be the richest woman in the Seam, maybe even the town, if she didn't drink half of what she made.
"Perfect, take me to the best deal."
"There's only one deal in there. And I really should be getting home soon…"
"Oh no you don't Katniss, you agreed, remember? Consider yourself my new tour guide."
Before I can argue he's dragging me up the knoll and into the Hob.
Usually in the summer people sit around outside and enjoy the warm air, however in the winter they sit inside and ignore the stench as they try to stay warm. With the sun falling I guess I couldn't be too surprised that nobody heard the noise we must have been making, they all sat packed together inside.
Cato drops my hand just as we reach the door. He keeps his hand close by ready to grab again if I make a run for it. I pushed the door open and we both enter. Before somebody complains about me letting the warm air out I quickly shut the door. It's not fast enough, the old man who sells bags turns around and begins to yell at me. He pauses midsentence though, blinking and trying to figure out why I'm standing beside the boy who was on the stage earlier.
Before he gets himself killed I begin to walk with Cato on my heels. People begin to notice of course, looking up from their stalls and trying to figure out exactly what's going on. I wince when I see the town gossip, an older woman who loved to get in people's business and then report it to everybody who was capable of hearing. She would stick around until Cato or I left and then she would begin spreading the story. I think this time people would actually listen.
Ripper does have a stand but she also tends to run around the Hob on slow nights like these. My best bet is to ask Sae. Luckily I've been going to her stand for years now and could probably make it to her blind. I consider telling Cato where we're going but decide the less we're seen talking, the better.
Sae glances up from her pot and begins to prepare a bowl. She does a retake when she realizes it's not Gale beside me.
She blinks a few times before setting the bowl back down and looking between me and the Hunger Games Victor.
Before she can say anything I ask her, "where's Ripper?"
"She's open for business down in the back."
I nod and thank her before continuing to where I think I remember Ripper's stand being.
I really wish it wasn't in the back, there are so many eyes following me with such curiosity and even loathing.
It's an eternity to get to the back, having to walk past so many stands with so many people. And of course it's Sunday, all of the miners are unwinding and trying to relax this evening.
It's always louder in the back, probably from those who indulge in Ripper's service. Tonight is no different.
I push back the curtain she keeps in front of her more elaborate stand and move to the bar. I've bought alcohol from Ripper before on behalf of my mother who needed it to clean wounds. I've never actually been inside her bar, or rather her stand that had stools pulled up to the bench.
I sigh, still regretting the moment I ever bothered to speak to Cato. I guess it's fortunate that by now everybody in the vicinity of the bar is drunk.
Ripper wobbles as we approach, smiling stupidly when we stand before her.
"What'll it be?"
I glance to Cato and wait for him to order.
"Well what do you got?"
She begins to list off a bunch of names I never knew existed, though Cato does not seem at all confused.
He repeats back some of the names and orders bottles, throwing down more money than I've ever seen in my entire life. Ripper is unfazed by it and returns with the box with about five bottles.
"You two have a good day now." She slurs, sliding the money behind her counter. Cato takes the box and nods for me to follow.
It seems I'll be forced to walk through the Hob with this boy again, only now he carries a box of expensive alcohol.
I can barely take my eyes off the ground as we walk, horrified by this whole experience. Luckily nobody comments and eventually we make it to the front door, Cato pushes it open and waits for me to walk out before continuing on. He doesn't bother shutting it and nobody voices protest as we continue on.
"So… I guess the tour is over now?"
He actually spares me a smile, glancing down and adjusting the box in his hands. "Not even close Twelve. Drinking alone is too depressing."
I stopped in my tracks, hoping he's only bluffing. He can't be serious, can he?
When I finally managed to get my voice back I have to skip forward to catch up to him, which is just ridiculous considering he's now carrying that box and would have to drop it to stop me from getting away. He knows my name now and that may just be enough to find me later or report me to the Peacekeepers. It's when I realize this that I know why he's suddenly less careful with where I go.
"Don't tell me you've never been drunk before?" He asks, there's amusement laced in with his tone and I know he expects me to admit to drinking in the past. When I don't respond right away he turns to me and once again inspects every element of my face. Somehow he's put the pieces together.
"Next thing you'll be telling me is that you're a virgin."
When I don't immediately respond he once again turns to me. Only this time I'm blushing before I can help it. The silence is too much to bear and in a quiet voice I ask, "what kind of girl do you take me for?"
He's silent this time.
He takes us to the edge of the Seam where the new houses are being built but are not yet occupied. They will be next spring when young couples marry and move out of their own families homes.
Cato must notice the construction equipment surrounding the buildings and asks, "anybody live here?"
"No."
"Perfect."
He walks to a door with no shame. The doors locked but he sets the box down and begins to twist the doorknob.
"It's locked." I call out from the foot of the stairs, digging my hands into my pockets where Gale's coins and my coins still remain.
"I know that, I did this all the time back in District Two." He answers over his shoulder, continuing to twist the doorknob only now he adds slight force to it. I looked around nervously. Maybe he could get away with this but I sure couldn't. We get caught and it was me going down.
I'm genuinely surprised when the door does open. He lets himself in with his box, as though today was moving day. "Come on." He calls out in my direction.
This time I do struggle to go up the stairs, at least last time there were people nearby. This time we're in the undeveloped housing section where it would be easy not to hear screams. It's out of fear that I climb the steps, not intrigue for the boy waiting behind the threshold. It's growing dark outside with the sun long gone and dinner probably consumed in my home.
It's dark inside, even worse when the door shuts quietly behind me.
I can hardly see Cato, except for the blond hair that is illuminated in the moonlight. He's moving around, getting the box situated on the ground. He pulls out a bottle that clings around on the others. He pops it open and takes a quick swig from it, I see all of this as my eyes slowly adjust in the darkness.
I stay close to the door, reluctant to move any further into the room.
"Come here." He says. He motions me over with his hand, then looks away to take another swig.
I sigh, realizing it's too late to do anything. Decisions had been made and now I was going to have to stick with them.
The room is still painfully dark, I nearly trip over a pile of building wood on the ground. I continue to move over to him, careful with each of my steps. When I finally get to him he hardly pays me the mind as he takes a smaller sip from the bottle.
Silently, he hands me a bottle he must have opened on my way over. I glance at it and know he wants me to drink from it. The thought is almost laughable but then I realize what a situation I've gotten myself into. That in itself is nowhere near laughable.
My hands are shaking, I only realize this when I go to grab the bottle. The stench of alcohol invades my senses. Its vile and I have no idea why anyone would drink this stuff willingly. He watches me closely as I slowly bring the bottle to my lips. I allow only a small amount to reach my tongue and let it sit in my mouth for a few moments before reluctantly swallowing it. This sends a burn down my throat and I begin to cough.
He continues to drink, completely uninhabited by any coughing fits.
I set my drink down, still unsure how I ended up here. Surely by now my mother has become worried, especially if the gossip has been spread and she knows I'm with the Victor from District Two.
The very thought of her knowing, or Prim for that matter, makes me go lightheaded. And what would Gale say? If something were to happen here… He would blame himself.
"I don't understand why people actually drink the stuff." I say a moment later, the burning sensation no longer in my throat but in my belly.
"They don't drink it for the taste, people drink this because it makes everything better. Parties get more fun, funerals are less miserable, it could make entire nights disappear."
"And that's what you're doing? Making your night in District Twelve disappear?"
"That's exactly right."
"So why do that in an empty house?"
"Why do it surrounded by idiots?" He retaliates.
"I'm not sure." I finally say and again I try to place myself in his shoes. I'm not that bold though, if I was in District Two during my Victory Tour I wouldn't wander around and break into houses and drink alcohol with a stranger. Maybe the Hunger Games changed me so much that I did things that I never thought that I would do before.
That's his excuse for being here, what's mine?
"So why didn't you stay with the others?"
"They were bored, most of them went to bed early. Can't blame them though, if I had to come to District Twelve on so many Victory Tours I would too."
I glare at him and just as I'm about to retaliate, he places the bottle back into my hands.
In a much more serious voice he says, "I don't hate you Katniss. I remember you from the square. You are the only one… That's even a little bit different."
He says nothing else and continues to drink from his bottle. I also experiment, taking small sips from mine and beginning to enjoy the burn it creates in my belly.
I'm only a quarter of the way through and already it seems to take an effect on me. The world reels and I actually have to set the bottle down and put both hands on my side to steady myself. It makes no sense either, or maybe it does. I'm not really sure anymore. He's had way more to drink than I have yet he sits there perfectly still. It must be because he's used to this.
I lean back, my back scratched against something. I realize we're sitting in front of the fireplace.
I keep drinking, beginning to actually enjoy the burn it gives me. It still hurts upon the first sip but I find that if I drink it quickly I can avoid this. I'm alarmed to find my bottle nearly empty sometime later.
I hold it up to the window and examine the last bit of liquid left in it. Four big drinks at the most. I set it down but nearly miss putting it in the box, it takes me a few tries to actually get it in the right place.
Cato watches this and though I cannot see him I know he must be amused.
He finishes his bottle and throws it to the side, unconcerned with where it lands.
I can't believe I'm actually sitting here with him. The girl in the square who giggled when he looked at her was not at fault, I am. I'm the traitor for sitting here and actually enjoying myself. It's the first time I've admitted it but yes, I'm enjoying myself here. For the first time since my father's death it's not my responsibility to take care of somebody. I'm allowed to just sit here and let myself go. And while everybody else continues to starve the only thing I yearn for is his company.
"It must've been awful," I suddenly say before I can even think about it, "the Hunger Games I mean."
"It was." I don't know if he actually said this, if he did it was in such a low voice that I hardly caught it. Maybe it was the alcohol playing tricks on me. I laugh softly and then put my head on my knees to try and stop the spinning.
When I lift myself up and glance over I see him watching me. He really is handsome I think off handedly.
Certainly better looking than the boys in my District. Maybe even Gale.
Now I know for sure that I'm drunk, if I was in my right mind I would never have thought something so terrible and cruel.
For some reason I feel the need to voice this to him, "you're handsome but you're still a monster."
I can't see his reaction and I move closer to see if I could closer up.
We're close enough that our legs are pressed together and are shoulders touching. When his arm brushes against mine electricity flows through me.
I like the electricity mixed with the burn still spreading through my limbs. It's almost unbearable. I want more of it.
I slide my arms around his waist and feeling the muscles twitch.
With my head now leaning close to his chest he suddenly tugs at my hair. For a moment I think he's trying to pull me up but then I realize he's taking my braid out.
My hair falls, suddenly in my face and fanning out all around us.
He pets it for a moment before tugging at it and demanding my attention. His body is warm and I enjoy being pressed so close to it that I'm annoyed when he wants me to look straight at him.
He wraps his arms around me and pulls me in closer so that I now rest on his lap.
I'm not sure what to do from this new position. With my back pressed against his chest there's nothing I really can do. One arm is still wrapped around me while the other goes to grab his bottle.
"You smell terrible."
"I've been in the forest all day ." I tell him, something tells me this is stupid. I ignore it.
"Of course to were."
I lean back into him, feeling even more muscle to fall back on. He pushes the hair away from my neck, exposing it to him.
The hot breath he breathes onto me is almost excruciating. When he leans in and places a light kiss onto my exposed neck my hips actually buck into his arms.
"You like that?"
I close my eyes and lean my head to the side, giving him more access to my neck.
He drops his bottle, both arms wrap around my waist and hold me securely as he presses a longer kiss to the same place.
A moan rips out between my lips before I can stop it. It sounds so foreign coming from me and if it weren't just Cato and I in the room I would think it was from somebody else.
His hands begin to explore, one going beneath my shirt and the other resting on my thigh.
The one beneath my shirt traces the outline of my bra, touching bare skin and dragging his finger around the old material.
My head falls back onto his shoulder. I'm surprised when his lips suddenly latch onto mine. The taste of alcohol hits me.
I never really thought that this would be my first kiss.
He presses our lips together and everything just feels so good that I don't notice his hands moving at first. He pushes me forward and removes my jacket in a matter of seconds.
It's not that he took it off so fast that startles me but rather that I enjoy it. I want him to take more, to see me as nobody has ever seen me before. Nobody has ever seen or heard me.
Every coherent thought I have left disappears as each button is popped from my blouse. His large hands are ravenous, feeling every inch of exposed skin. Eventually he gives up with unbuttoning my shirt and instead rips the bottom, at least two buttons go flying across the room and I watch them with a bitter sort of delight.
Maybe a nice little couple will move in here and in a few years they'll have babies running around who look down and curiously see my buttons under a layer of dust. The thought is almost so amusing that I actually begin to laugh. God knows what they would think when they saw them.
Our lips are joined together again, my shirt falls to the ground and into a fine layer of sawdust. He's standing up suddenly, spinning me around so that our chests are pushed together as he begins to fumble with my bra. I take the time to grab onto his shoulders and to feel the muscles beneath his shirt.
It feels as though the fireplace has been lit, warming the entire room to the point that is almost excruciatingly hot. Even the tips of my fingers and soles of my feet are unusually warm.
I don't even notice it at first, there is no chill as my bra drops to the ground.
He dips down and begins to kiss my collarbone and just about my breasts. I want him to kiss them. I wonder if it would burn like when he kissed my lips or electrify me like the kisses to my neck?
I hold the sides of his faces, secure in both of my hands, and force him to pull away from my collarbone and move further down until his lips are just above my nipples.
I begin to tug at his shirt though it is impossible to pop the buttons on it with how much my hands shake.
"Oh please." I whimper out, unable to take much more of this.
I look to him suddenly, having a hard time imagining him as the boy on the TV. He quickly strips out of his shirt, throwing it onto the growing pile beneath the fireplace.
He drops to his knees and grabs my waist before pulling me down with him. He gives me a light push so that I fall backwards and onto the cool wood floors, staring up at him in confusion.
His fingers are clumsy as he struggles to unbutton my pants, he gets it a moment later and drags them past my hips and down to my knees where they're tucked into my boots.
Through the haze of alcohol there is some clarity that tells me what we're doing is wrong.
I want to be selfish just this once.
I've never asked for much. I've never been granted what I do ask for.
Together we unlace one boot each, trying desperately to get them off as quickly as possible. He manages to do it first, tossing my shoe somewhere behind him. I've taken the time to unlace the other boot but he knocks my hands away and simply pulls it right from my foot.
I grip the floor as he grabs the bottom of my pants and pulls them off.
I can hardly stand to look at him, anything for that matter. I bury my face in my hands and try not to think as the last article of clothing is taken from me.
And there I am, naked and beneath him with no clue on what to do next.
I don't dare watch his reaction as he looks me up and down.
Sometime later his hand falls onto my leg and his fingers spread slowly, his index tracing between my thighs.
I suck in a breath as his finger slips inside of me. My hands search wildly for something to hold onto. I grip his shoulders tightly, he responds by slipping a second finger into my body.
He begins to move his hand, his fingers going back and forth, in and out. Noises I didn't think I was capable of making are suddenly flooding through my lips.
My entire body shakes and trembles as a flood of liquid spills over his fingers. I might be embarrassed if I had control over this, I assume that was a natural reaction to what he's doing to me.
I can hardly take much more, I want him to do more and yet I want him to stop all at the same time.
The haziness in my mind suddenly falls to the ground and whatever affect the alcohol had on me is suddenly breaking apart when he pulls away and begins to work on getting his belt off.
In the morning I can hate him again, in the morning I can be Katniss Everdeen again. For now I wasn't myself just as he wasn't Cato from District Two. We were just two people with needs to be fulfilled.
He gets his pants down, kicking them off along with his boxers with no shame.
I look at him curiously, having never seen a man who wasn't near death and under my mother's care. He's nothing like those men, much younger and much more fascinating to look at.
His body covers mine, are eyes meeting briefly as he begins to rub himself against me. It's better, so much better than his fingers were.
I look at the scar that reaches from his abdomen to his rib cage or the dozens of small ones that litter everywhere on his body. Small knives, I think. I also think they're my favorite things about him.
I can give this no more thought as he stops teasing me and instead takes my virginity in one thrust.
I arch backwards, the crown of my head digging into the floor and a long groan comes from him.
There is no love in this, how could there be? I've known him an hour at the most. There is something though, a bond?
I don't care, couldn't, even if I wanted to.
Because suddenly he's moving like his fingers did. He is pulling out and moving back inside, over and over in a matter of seconds. I can't take much more of it as I grip my hair and tug at it as well as bite my lip.
He's gasping, moving faster and faster and faster and it just feel so great. He hits somewhere inside of me and my vision explodes into white. I can hardly see anything as he continues to move against me, our bodies making a slapping noise that fills the room.
He slows down and only then do I feel the actual pain in losing my virginity. I gasp, searching wildly for an explanation for why he would stop. I manage to look to him, furious for making things feel so good and then taking that away.
He smiles, crooked and devious and everything I expect from somebody from Two. He pulls out completely, the tip of him just near my opening that it borders on torturous. I try to move so that he is once again inside of me but his fingers push down on my hips as he continues to smile.
He reaches somewhere behind him and grabs his pile of clothes and for a moment I fear he's leaving before we can somehow finish this.
Instead he lifts my hips and places his bundle of clothes under my arched back. He adjusts his hands so that they cup my hipbones (especially sharp in the winter) and in one swift motion is back inside of me, moving faster than before.
I scream so loud that for the first time since arriving I am grateful there's nobody around us. It continues like this for a while, electricity shooting through my body and all sounds in the world disappearing. Finally, when I think I can take no more my body and mind blowup in a silent explosion.
Something warm shoots out into my body as he lets out a gasp that barely registers in my mind. He collapses on top of me and after only a moment of lingering rolls over onto his back.
I stare at the roof that continues to spin, my body still trembling and feeling the aftershocks of what we've just done. Fatigue slowly starts to settle over me and I'm fine with falling asleep right here and never getting up again. I don't want to return to the world where I'm the only adult, the only one capable of taking care of the people I love.
When my breathing finally begins to settle and my heart not nearly as erratic I turn to him and watch his own breathing beginning to slow.
He turns to me a second later and after a moment of watching me closely reaches over and grabs my chin as he pulls me in for a kiss. Not like the others, not fast and desperate or with the promise of more. This is slow, as though to celebrate what has been done.
When he pulls away I lift slightly off the ground and push his clothes over to him. He reaches over to the fireplace and tosses me mine as we dress slowly and without getting up once.
I fall into a sleep, not peaceful or comfortable but simply satisfied.
I am comforted by the knowledge that when I wake up he won't be here.
He's not and it's just as well.
I take the time to readjust my clothes and re-braid my hair, to look around the room and make sure there is no evidence of our intrusion. It's when I slip my jacket on that I find anything strange, I reach into my pocket and feel double the amount of coins that he had given Ripper.
And that's how I leave that new house. With the sun just barely peeking over the mountains on a Monday morning, a limp in my walk and a soreness between my legs and a pocketful of reasons to feel like a whore.