Author's Notes: edited August 17, 2018
Chapter Twenty – The Contemplation
Cato stared at his hands as he tried to fully comprehend just what had happened. Had he really fallen asleep with Rose in his arms…? And without touching her in any sort of sexual way too! His hands tingled as he recalled how it had felt to hold her in his embrace. It was such an odd feeling. He had always thought that it would never happen – that he would only ever sleep beside a woman that he's either had sex with or planning to kill or torture. His hands opened and closed into fists as he thought. Nothing felt different… well, there was the odd feeling of pride. But he had no idea what he was proud of. Was it that he was able to comfort his Rose when no one could? Or that he had beaten Peeta Mellark when it came to Rose? After all, his Rose had come running away from Peeta and fallen into his arms, hadn't she?
He smirked at the thought, shifting so that he was in the lotus position, causing his clothes to crinkle even more. He probably looked like a right mess – with his disheveled hair and very much ruined clothes. He wondered if he should leave, but the very thought of leaving his Rose alone and within proximity to Peeta left him with no other choice than to stay with her – because he doubted she'd come with him unless forced.
Now that was an idea. He smiled to himself and turned to face the bathroom door when Rose returned. His confused hazel eyes met her cautious blue eyes as she stood by the door, hand still on the knob and face cleaner than it had been earlier. It was obvious that she had washed her makeup off, and Cato thought that had he left, she would have changed into different clothes too. She shifted her weight from one foot to the other and both had a feeling that they were waiting on the other to make a move.
"Are you…" Cato began, unsure just what he wanted to say. He swallowed visibly. "Do you feel better?" He asked, not once failing in keeping his eyes on hers. It was a new experience – to look at a member of the opposite gender without raking his eyes over them. When had blue become his favorite color?
It was almost lost on the older of the pair when Prim nodded. Her hold on the knob tightened and loosened periodically as she fought to keep her composure and maintain eye contact. With a clear of her throat she said, "Thank you for staying with me." She wanted to smile at him and let him know that what he did was truly appreciated, but she couldn't seem to get her face and mind to get on the same page. Part of her was grateful that someone had watched over her, another was shocked and cautious to have that someone be Cato – of all people – and then the last part of her was disappointed that Peeta had not come to even check up on her. Was she that unimportant?
Cato grunted in response and stood up and off of the bed. "I look out for my own." He said, smirking as she saw her blush and indignation shine in her eyes. "Now why don't we go get something to eat, Rose?" He offered, tucking his hands in his pocket and nodding to the door. She looked back and forth between him and the door before sighing softly and moving to stand beside him. He took her hand in his as he opened the door, and they stepped out to be greeted by the low lighting that accompanied the night.
"Why don't you lead me to the kitchen?" Cato said, making a grand gesture with his free hand for Prim to lead the way. She moved so that she was at least two steps ahead of him, but found that he would not let go of her hand, so she continued on with their clasped hands trailing behind her.
She supposed it should have felt odd. It was only last night that she and Peeta had snuck up to the rooftop, and now she didn't feel like seeing her district partner again, and she was sneaking to the kitchen with someone else – a career… Cato, no less! She subconsciously clenched her hands into fists, surprising Cato, who thought that she had been squeezing his hand. Why didn't it feel wrong?
Sparing their hands a glance before looking back up at the back of Rose's head while still keeping his senses up, Cato thought that perhaps he should have left when she'd fallen asleep. He wasn't a fan of the way he had felt empty when she left his hold. He had sworn to himself that no one would ever hold such power over him, and he would be damned if he let her get the better of him. He closed his eyes just as the kitchen came into view. He would need to kill her earlier than expected.
There was no way he was going to lose to some girl with blue eyes.
"Haymitch!" Prim squeaked as the aforementioned Mentor came into view. He was – as always – sitting on a stool with what looked to be a glass of water by his side. Blood rushed to her cheeks as she pulled her hand away from Cato's, only to have him tighten his hold. She wasn't getting away that easily.
"You should change into something more comfortable," said Haymitch as he eyed her crinkled dress with a raised brow. "I'm sure Cinna's still awake – I heard that he and Effie were going to discuss something with Portia in his room." He then met Cato's steely gaze, "You can go with her if you want. Better yet, you can return to your floor." He took a drink of water. "I think you two should know that you've caused quite the uproar all over Panem. The triangle of Peeta, Prim, and Cato are all everyone's been talking about."
Cato glared at Haymitch, who only looked at him in boredom. "And I think that you should mind your own business, old ma-" Cato was cut off by Prim's hand on his chest. He looked down at her and was met with her pleading eyes topped off with her pouting lips. He sneered even as his heartbeat echoed in his ears. "You want me to leave too?"
She knew that she should say yes. She should nod her head and push him away. Her mind told her that it was the rationally thing to do, her heart told her that she had no one that apart from Cinna no one was really on her side. Making a split second decision, Prim's gaze fell to her hand, which was in a fist, holding a good portion of Cato's dress shirt.
"I…" she began, unaware that Haymitch's eyes were now very much boring holes into her back. "Wait for me in the living room." She said, letting her eyes drop to the floor. With a light push, Cato relented, a smirk on his face as he backed into the living room to leave Prim and Haymitch in the kitchen.
When she was sure that Cato had left, Prim turned to face Haymitch, upset and frightened all at the same time. The feeling of being alone was once again falling upon her, and she didn't like it one bit. She wrapped her arms around herself as she looked for the words to express her dislike of the situation Peeta's so-called confession had placed her in.
"Was it some sort of trick to get him sponsors?" She asked, unable to hide the bitter tone in her voice. It was beginning to feel as if Haymitch was favoring Peeta. And while she didn't really mind that aspect of it, she was not a fan of how uninvolved she was with the matter.
Haymitch shrugged. "Not at all." He smirked, raising a brow. "He has a crush on you, Angel. And that crush, well it also has the power to get him riled up whenever you and your friend get too cozy." He drummed his fingers on the countertop absentmindedly. "The stunt you pulled – falling into Cato's arms, him taking you away, Peeta being so affected by it all… Everyone is keeping an eye on you three now, and I want to talk to you about some strategies before you go to bed." He ran a hand through his shiny hair. "Now go get changed, do whatever it is with Cato and then meet me back here."
Doing as instructed, Prim felt as if she were on autopilot as she passed by Cato and went to Cinna's room. Knocking twice, she entered upon being granted, with Cato right behind her. He wasn't about to let her out of his sight for any extended period of time – even if it was to get changed. The duo found Cinna alone, watching some soap opera on the television.
"Glad to see your awake, Angel!" Cinna said with a warm smile as he took Prim in his arms. Cato wasn't too happy about the gesture, but reminded himself that he was just some stylist and that Cinna had nothing on him.
"I need to change," whispered Prim loud enough for her companions to hear. Cato took a seat on one of the lounge chairs, taking the remote and shifting through the channels as Cinna went to help Prim out of her beautiful dress. If he didn't say so himself, he would have to say that the dress had to be his favorite one yet.
As Cinna and Prim silently worked on getting Prim into more comfortable clothes, Cato couldn't help but watch them from the full-length mirror to the side. He could see their reflections as clearly as if her were watching them properly, and he would have to say that his Rose had such a beautiful body. It wasn't as curvy as Clove's nor as developed as hers, but it surely held the promise of becoming beautifully blossomed. Her skin was an even color and he found that she had a birthmark on her hip. She looked so imperfect with her rather skinny figure and her vacant eyes, but he still thought her above everyone else.
There was definitely something wrong with him.
The memory of last night flashed before his eyes. Seeing Peeta embrace his Rose and how comfortable the two looked was such a contradiction to how she had reacted earlier. Could it be that she was truly unattached? That there was no other guy? Or that maybe that other guy was back home? Either way, he wasn't going to let anyone get in the way of him and his Rose – or him and becoming the Victor.
That was still his goal.
Rose was just some passing obsession.
He was sure that he would be rid of this quirk a day into the games – if not earlier.
Prim kept her eyes downcast and her focus on Cinna and the silk nightdress that she was being given. It was an eerie feeling; she could feel his eyes on her. She was sure that if she dared meet his gaze with the use of the mirror, she would be reduced to a blubbering little girl whose face was as red as a tomato – unable to look away from him.
When Cinna finished, Prim had offered a polite thank you and then proceeded to lead Cato back out of the room. They returned to the kitchen, both relieved to find the lone mentor of District 12 gone. She didn't think that now would be a good time to talk, while he had no intention of sharing his Rose with anyone. They wondered who would break the silence that had engulfed them.
They watched each other over the counter as an Avox prepared and served their meal. Cato felt at ease as he watched her take a bit of broccoli, and Prim's eyes briefly met his as she swallowed. What could she say? What could either of them say? There was nothing to talk about and no reason to speak. The hush was a welcome way to clear and organize their thoughts, but it was also rather discomforting for the younger of the two.
Why hadn't he left yet?
There was nothing keeping him there, and really, he would probably feel better and more comfortable once he was back at his floor and in regular clothes. All he had done to make him a bit more comfortable was remove his coat and loosen his tie, and Prim doubted that he still felt as at ease as when he had first done so. He probably felt like taking a shower and getting into a new set of clothes.
She was surprised when he broke the silence.
"Trouble in paradise?"
She looked up and chewed slowly as he went on about eating nonchalantly. She supposed that it was a valid question seeing as he had assumed that she and Peeta were more than friends, and then she had gone on to cry when Peeta allegedly confessed his love for her.
She, more than he, was surprised by the words that tumbled out of her mouth, "There was no paradise in the first place." Did that mean she hadn't been truly happy with Peeta? But then again, all she really wanted – all that she still wants – was to be back home in District Twelve, with Katniss and her mother. Her heart constricts in the most painful way. What did Katniss think of her now? Getting into such a mess with two boys both closer to her sister's age than hers….It was such an absurd predicament that she would have thought it impossible if it weren't happening to her and before her very eyes.
Cato did not speak anymore, and neither did she, as they continued to eat. When they finished, they retired to the living room, where he situated himself comfortably on the loveseat, pulling her down to sit on his lap. It was such a surreal feeling for her. Hadn't she been in a similar position only a couple of nights back before she slapped him and ran out of his room? Hadn't that been the same night that she had cried into Peeta's arms and then slept by his side? How easily emotions, feelings, and thoughts changed!
Will you be okay on your own, Cato wanted to ask, but instead, what came out was a grunted, "Go to bed." One hand rested at the small of her back as the other held her chin. He leaned in and paused a few centimeters shy of their lips meeting. "Close your eyes," ordered he, and upon seeing that she did, he kissed her.
She neither tensed nor reciprocated the move, and as he pulled away, her eyes fluttered as it opened. She blinked owlishly at him before getting off of him. She waited as he stood and went to the elevator and only went back to her room when he was gone.
She had a feeling she wasn't the only one left with things to mull over.