CLATO! 333333 okay you guys definitely knew I had a Clato fever. So here's a story about them, even though it's sad and it's a one shot I still enjoy writing Clato so there may be a possible story about them in the future if you all like this one! Enjoy :3 Because I know I did when I was writing this. Warning though, my writing style is kind of different than my speaking style so it won't be all 11! It's going to sound official.

This story is also from Clove's POV. Because really, I love Clove and she's my favorite character in the first movie and my third favorite character from all the Hunger Games books

I was dying.

I knew it right from the moment that Thresh – the District Eleven boy, had hit my head with that rock, but even though I was dying, I still couldn't really shake off the disappointment I felt because I got hit by a stupid rock and it was the cause of my death. Okay, so he was involved in this, but the rock had killed me. I wonder what my parents would be saying right now. My Father would obviously still be getting over the fact that I'm going to be dead by a rock but my Mother would probably be raising an eyebrow on how I had gotten this far and yet, I still had gotten killed by something stupid.

Now, I felt like I was the weakest person in the family. My parents are victors, and my older Brother is also a victor of the Hunger Games a few years back, and since they really had trained me to win the Hunger Games, I felt like a failure. I was so confident that I would win, and that I would come back home to District Two, but apparently the Capitol was too ruthless to let me come back.

And Cato – Don't even get me started on him. I had been counting on him ever since we became… as close as friends could be in the arena, and yet he was too slow to save me. I don't know if he would be sad if I died though. Obviously he would have to kill me if it wasn't for the rule change, but even though he never told me and I never told him, during these games we became slightly more than friends.

But really – I wonder how I'm still able to think while I'm practically dying right now, and I should really be thinking about how to get rid of the horrible headache that was caused by the stupid, big rock. I guess my death would be a slow painful one, like my Mom had promised me to have. My family isn't very fond of me because last year I had the chance to volunteer but I didn't, but the only reason I volunteered this year was to bring pride to my family. Not to my district. I only wanted my family to love me again, and yet I think they hate me even more now.

"Clove! Clove!" I hear the voice of Cato getting nearer and nearer, and then I try to turn my head in order to see him but the pain was too much, so I could only lie my head there and then wait for him to come.

Soon enough, his footsteps were heard more clearly for me, and then the next thing I remember was that he was already sitting next to me, or at least, I think he was trying to get me to stay alive. It was pointless. I was dead anyway.

"Cato," I spoke out, though it sounded more like a whisper. I didn't know that when you were dying, speaking was so hard to do. No wonder most dying people couldn't manage to get a word out of them. "I'm sorry."

"Clove! You can't die, stay with me, please," Cato said, looking at me and I could only manage a weak smile at him. I was dying. He had to know that.

"I'm dying, Cato," I answered. "Look, you have to win. Win for your family and for me, and kill Katniss for me. Or if you die I'll kick your ass in the afterlife!" Looks like I could manage a joke, even when I was dying.

Cato, however, instead of facing the reality and then leave me to die, he still stays next to me, looking like he still couldn't believe the knife throwing, sarcastic Clove could die so easily. I was a girl too, you know. I do in fact, have a life outside these games. Or I had, anyway. "No! You can't be dying…" His voice starts to crack. "Stay with me and- and we can kill Katniss together. Please, just hold on. A sponsor will get us some medicine for me to heal you, just hold on!"

"I can't," I admitted, looking at him before a grin made its way to my face. "Are you… Are you seriously crying Cato?" I wanted to laugh, but even making a small grin was hard so I really didn't want to try laughing.

Instead of arguing with me like he usually does, he nods. "I'm sorry… I'm sorry I was late. If only I was faster you'd still be alive. It's all my fault," He looked down, and this was the first time I had ever seen Cato look genuinely sad.

"No, it was mine. If I only killed Katniss already, and not tease her, she would be dead and I would be alive. It wasn't your fault," I tried to assure. "Please. Just… Just win for me."

I know I couldn't stay to chat with Cato for long. It seemed like the world was starting to fade to black, and breathing was getting harder and the strength to talk was now harder than it was before. No medicine in the world could save me now – Cato must know that. He needs to get over the fact that I'm dead once I die, he needs to focus on how to win the Games and kill District Twelve.

"Clove…" He starts to say but then I feel like talking is too hard, and I can't breathe anymore. I haven't cried since forever, and but I feel my eyes starting to water, as if I knew that I had to comfort Cato for one last time. So I took one last look at him, and then mouthed, I'm sorry.

And after that, the world went black. But in the distance, I heard a cannon. And it was mine.