Song Suggestion: Arctic Monkeys- "Do I Wanna Know"
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A High Price
By the time they got home the sun had already sunk under the ridges of the mountains, and the moon took its place in the sky.
Prim walked into Coral's room. She slept with her mouth open, tiny arms above her head. Her eyes flickered behind her eyelids, and her pudgy hands gave small twitches, movements from dreams. Prim's fingers reached out as if to brush her cheeks or hair, but then her hands pulled back to her chest.
"She's so... pure."
Prim almost started to cry again, but held it in. She was done with crying, she had enough of it in one lifetime.
Cato eyed her rigid posture for a moment. He still didn't touch her, though Prim assumed the drug had worn off long ago.
"You're pure too," Cato whispered.
Was that the way he saw her? Prim didn't agree with him. Globs of dirt felt glued to her skin. She shook her head, but Cato persisted.
"Even if...even if he'd..." he stopped and sucked in a breath. His eyes wouldn't meet hers. "You'd still be."
"How could I be? I just feel... unclean."
Cato's eyes finally met hers, and she wanted to glance away from the intensity. Something crackled behind them, something unnamable. It scared her.
"You have no idea little bird, how different you are. You remind me of the..."he glanced out the window, as if contemplating the melting ice,"...of the snow. Why, you didn't even kill me when given a chance. And I'm not sure you'd even been able to have killed Jace either if given an opportunity, no matter how much he had hurt you."
She wasn't sure that last part was a compliment, just a statement of her personality. Silence reigned. Cato stared off into the other part of the room, once again not meeting her eyes. She decided to ask a question that had bothered her since he rescued her. Cato looked down at his training shirt and began to mess with a loose string, pulling it until it began to unravel.
"Why didn't you kill him?"
Cato sneered at nothing, as if lost in memory.
"If he'd have been raping you, I wouldn't have been able to stop myself. But it would have caused problems. No matter what Jace told you, he wouldn't have really killed me either. It's not allowed. The Capitol forbids it. That's why he stooped to the level he did to get at me."
Prim shivered at the word rape. It was just starting to hit her how close it had been.
"I'm tired." Prim hugged herself and stared longingly at her bed, wanting to sink into the covers and never come out for days.
"Stay with me tonight."
Startled, Prim's eyes flicked up to Cato. The openness in his stare was back. It unnerved her. Then the anger began to build.
"How could you even ask something like that after—"
Cato walked forward quickly and placed his hand over her mouth.
"Don't wake Coral. She doesn't need to see you this upset again."
Prim didn't realize how loud she was, and was a little grateful to Cato for keeping her quiet. He was right; Coral didn't need to be exposed to her trauma. She nodded and his hand left her mouth, leaving an odd tingle.
"I won't touch you tonight," Cato whispered, "I promise. It's just... It would be nice, you know, to have someone there."
Prim searched his eyes for a moment to detect any falsity in his words. And the way he asked it made something twist inside her. How could she refuse, when she herself wanted the same thing—just someone there: another human, a connection of life that understood what she just went through.
"Okay."
They walked out of Coral's room and down the hallway, the sound of their footsteps the only noise, and into his room. He slipped out of his training clothes, leaving only his boxers. She averted her eyes for privacy, and by the time she glanced back, he was already under the covers. She hesitated for a brief moment, before wrapping his leather jacket harder around her frame and crawling in after him. The warmth enveloped her. She placed her back to him and felt him scoot closer. So close she felt his breath on the back of her neck, though he kept his word and didn't touch her.
"Thank you. I mean, for finding me and—"
"Don't," he cut her off, "My intentions aren't pure, little bird. Greed and self-preservation are what usually drive me."
But it didn't matter. She felt like a small part of her soul shifted when he came storming in with the blue gun trained on Jace. The memory wouldn't budge from her mind, and it did strange things to her insides, twisting and turning them.
She wished for his hands to wrap around her. For the breath on her neck to be a kiss.
She wanted something to remind her that the world was still gentle.
But she lay unmoving.
Two Weeks Later
Prim washed her face then dabbed it with a towel. She placed her arms on the side of the sink, looking into the mirror and sighed and walked out like she did every night.
She flipped off the light switch to the bathroom, her feet padding against the hardwood floors. The hallway was dark, only a sliver of midnight filtered through a nearby widow, giving a hazy light for the pathway from the bathroom to Coral's room.
Her hair suddenly stood on end.
She felt someone behind her. At first it was just a feeling, but fingers came out and brushed against the silk of her nightgown.
She twisted.
Cato's face was shrouded by the night. The moonlight hit half his face, revealing hooded eyes. The blue eyes turned black in the dark, unreadable.
He was bare to the waist; athletic pants slung low on his hips. His golden skin glowed like alabaster in the starlight, not soft but hard as stone.
"You're home." Her voice hitched in her throat.
Cato didn't speak.
He had been gone for two weeks, mysteriously disappearing a few days after her rescue. She wanted to be angry, but she wasn't sure why anymore.
Well, she was angry, no matter the root of the problem, and she couldn't bear to look at him at the moment. If she did, she was afraid she'd spit in his face.
How could you leave me—I mean, Coral—without giving a warning, a message, anything? She wanted to tell him this, but didn't. Where do you keep going off to? Somehow she didn't think it had to do with him training the tributes. He was up to something else. Prim used to not care where he went, as long as he was away, but for the first time she was curious.
"Where have you been?" She asked.
He didn't answer her for a second time. The silence began to unnerve her.
Prim tried to keep moving towards Coral's room, arms crossed now on her chest in indignation. Cato moved his body until he stood in front of her and blocked her path.
Her heart jumped into her throat, so she stepped the opposite way, unsure of his motivation. If he wanted to be that way, she'd just find another room to sleep in.
Cato moved in her path again.
Prim paused. Something about him was different tonight, more unhinged, unstable. She couldn't place her finger on it, but it made her wary. She wished she could see his face more clearly to see his expressions.
She went the opposite way, her feet taking a step backwards at the same time.
It became a game. She went one way, he stepped in front.
And then she stepped backwards past a doorframe and into a room. It was then she realized: she was being herded like a lamb. She glanced behind her, recognizing the white bedspread, even purer in the night against the darkness of the world.
"No," she whispered.
He smirked.
"Yes."'
She felt paralyzed, but her instincts worked enough to keep walking away from him as he stalked forward. The back of her knees hit the edge of the bed, and the tips of Cato's fingers touched her shoulders, slowly leading her backwards until her knees bent, and she followed the laws of gravity and sunk backwards into the soft mattress. She felt her hair splaying out around her head. He stood in front of her body and her legs naturally separated. He stole the opportunity. Her hands went up to stop his descent, but ended up resting on his chest.
Fire traveled up her legs as his fingertips grazed the outside of her thighs, inching her nightgown up her legs.
"No," she whispered again.
"I have to," He replied. "I want to."
"Is this because of Jace?"
"Baby, this is so much bigger than that. Things more important than Jace, though he is now part of the problem. I was going to take this slow, but he expedited the process. You're too terrible at lying to not make this real."
Her whole body trembled.
"I—I've never…"
"I know," he leaned down and pressed his lips against hers. She tasted bourbon, leaving a tingle when he parted, "Just stop thinking. I promise to be gentle."
When has Cato ever been gentle?
Part of her wanted to. The fire spread farther than his fingers, wrapping around the cells in her body, making every inch of her skin warm to the touch. But the other part became paralyzed with fear, leaving her body unable to respond. Memories tried to bombard her of her last intimate encounter when she was on Vice. Even though the desire had been fake, it felt too similar for her to be comfortable.
The seduction continued. He kissed her again, biting her bottom lip until she opened for him. Their tongues touched, soft and warm and sweet. It sent a shock to her core. It made her want to wrap her arms around his body, pull him in close, arch her back in reflex.
But she couldn't. She just couldn't.
He smiled when she died. He slit her throat and smiled. He pushed her face against the shed. Splinters in her cheek. Lady kicking the shed in terror. The hands on her neck, "Some are born to kill. And some are born to die." You have no choice. No choice.
No choice!
Her body went rigid. His mouth pulled back, disconnecting their lips.
Cato pulled back a little, eyebrows furrowed. The weight of him pushed her down, blocking her escape. The arms held him up on either side of her head, so that he could look at her.
"Don't make this hard. It doesn't have to be."
"Why? I don't understand." Her voice contained an edge of hysteria.
"Would you believe me if I said this act would protect hundreds, thousands of lives?"
He was playing her. He knew she couldn't hurt anyone voluntarily. Playing savior appealed to her nature. She wanted to scream in anger because it made her want to give in more, though she knew it was just part of the web of lies he spun. It gave a justification. A reason for betraying everything and everyone.
He must have sensed her distress, her wavering will, for he closed in and kissed her lips again. They felt soft and warm, and if they belonged to anybody else, she would have sunk into the sensations.
Instead, she went rigid again and turned her head to the side away from his mouth, away from temptation.
"I won't fight you. I understand I can't win. But don't expect me to respond."
"If that's how you like it." He clipped, sneering. The fingers which once played gently with the edges of her nightgown pushed the cloth roughly up her thighs. One hand went up and splayed across her belly. She felt as if there was string from her core to his rough warmth.
He went to kiss her again, but suddenly stopped and laid his forehead against hers. His nostrils flared, and his eyes clenched shut.
"I don't want to take it."
"I don't want to give it."
He closed his eyes again and hissed, as if in pain. After a second, his eyes popped open with a sudden fury.
His voice was controlled, but she felt the anger behind it.
"Dammit, Prim, we fucking have to do this. What do you want from me? I can't change…" he breathed deeply several times, as if trying to control himself, then his eyes narrowed, "What's your price?"
He said her name. It was the first time since she first met him, he ever said her name. It must be important.
"What?"
"Your price. Everyone has one. Some want money, fame—"
"I don't want any of those things."
He became silent for another moment. She saw the wheels clicking behind his eyes, thinking his way through the problem. When he next looked at her next, she could have sworn it looked vulnerable.
"A baby. I see the way you hold Coral. I could give you one of your own—"
"I want to go home." Prim stated.
He looked as if he had been slapped. The silence hung heavy in the room, filling all the empty spaces with unsaid words.
"Home is dead, baby." He pushed up with an expression of disgust, "I don't care if you hate me for the rest of your life. I can't let you go. And the next time I start something, I'm going to finish it, whether you say no or not, whether you enjoy it or not. We have to because this isn't a game or a whim. It's necessary. Prepare yourself for the inevitable" He rolled on his back and closed his eyes, bringing his arms above his head, "Now get the fuck out of my room before I decide to start something again."
Her legs sprung up and ran from the room, capitalizing on the reprieve without a thought or need of explanation.
Why? She mentally screamed, Why is it necessary? The world didn't care to answer her.
She waited until she curled up against Coral to cry. Silent tears of latent fear streaked down her cheeks.
The fear didn't stem from Cato-she was afraid of herself, of the desire that buzzed like alcohol through her system. She burned all night, tossing and turning, trying to ignore the ache engulfing her. A sick part of her wished he had forced her like he threatened, just so she wouldn't feel guilty. She could just blame him afterwards. It would end the desire.
It was a sickness she had to cure.
