"I don't want this anymore! I'm done!" she screams at the dark haired boy, who backs up against the boathouse wall, looking terrified. His body is shaking and the moonlit waves ripple across his face and toned chest. He holds hands out. She's standing on the opposite side of the wooden boathouse, and they're separated by the opening into the water which holds Ovid's small dingy. The reason they're fighting was caused by something so small, so minor, that he can't believe it's actually happening. One of the fishermen made a reference to Devon being Ovid's girl, and how it's his responsibility to look after her. When she asked him if he agreed while he was tying one of his nets, he just nodded. When he realized she had gone silent, he looked up to see the wild brunette bitter with anger and her screaming soon ensued.
"Dev, please. We can work through this- you're just scared with the Reaping coming up," he says quietly.
Devon's eyes are sparkling with fire and she throws her hands up and lets out an angry scream. "No! It's not, Ovid. I don't want this thing between us anymore. If we continue this I will just hurt you. You want a family, and kids… I wouldn't be able to do that. I think I do love you, or I did… Everything's changed now. And you think I'm yours? That I'm your responsibility? How dare you." She snarls begins pacing the wooden planks. She looks out at the dark sea and for a second he's scared she'll jump into the water, and he'll never see her again.
"I didn't mean it, I'm sorry. Dev, please, I love you. Don't do this." He begs. He looks at her with his wide brown eyes and her face gives away for one second, but then she looks down, her hair obscuring her eyes.
"I will only break your heart." she spits out. She's leaning against the wall, her loose red pants and white tie up shirt are such a familiar sight to him. But her words aren't familiar and they hurt his chest.
"No, you won't… Please don't leave." he says again….
That was one of the last memories Ovid has of her. It was a week before the Reaping and she agreed to stay with him. He never truly believed she would break his heart. That is, until she volunteered for the Games. The feeling like someone had punched him in the gut hit him as soon as he heard her voice ring through the air when she volunteered. She had hugged him so tightly when they said goodbye that the feeling lessened slightly, but it never really left.
But now, as his eyes scan the screen in his small living room, the feeling is abundantly painful in his chest. The screen sits in front of his green wall, and the soft glow casts a warm light on the mahogany table, and the blue velvet chair where he sits.
Devon is on the screen, lying beside the river with the blond bastard, Cato, from District Two. Spens feels anger race through his veins as he watches the two. Cato is still kneeling over her, one hand on her waist and the other behind her head. His blue eyes are trained on her face as she regains her breath. Blood is trailing down her mouth, and her green eyes seem to be struggling to focus on her surroundings. She tries to look at the river, then the trees, but finally gives up and drops her head on the rock.
"We need to go, Devon." Cato says firmly as he stands up and watches the surroundings, making sure there is no one around. He seems incredibly nervous.
Devon is moving her head back and forth warily and her confused eyes are wandering everywhere. "I can't…" she whispers. Cato tightens his lips and looks at her, then the path.
Is he going to leave her? Spens wonders as he kneels forward, worry making him feel sick.
But Cato doesn't leave her. He kneels down and takes a hold of one of her arms and drapes it over his shoulders. He takes the other one and pulls her up, until her two arms are draped over him. He shifts forwards on the balls of his feet, and she in turn slides upwards on his back. He puts his arms under her knees and then stands up, with Devon half unconscious on his back.
"Don't leave me…" she mumbles groggily, before sighing and burying her face in his shoulder. He turns his head, so his lips graze over her hair.
"I won't. Promise." He whipsers, then begins walking until they disappear into the trees and the camera shifts to the District Twelve tributes.
Ovid sinks back in his chair and covers his eyes with his hands. Watching how close Devon and Cato are make him sick.
Maybe she was right. Maybe she will break his heart.