When Clove woke up, she was very disoriented. She knew Cato was lying beside her, but that was the only familiar thing about her current situation. She was in a room very unlike either of their own rooms, her knife was nowhere to be found, and she could've sworn for a second that they were moving, although she wasn't sure. She saw the door to the mystery room and realized where she was. She was in Cato's bedroom on the train. On the way to the Hunger Games. She laid back down, looking up at the ceiling, allowed herself to feel the excitement wash over her in a way she hadn't before.
Yes, Cato was here too. That part displeased her. But she couldn't worry about something she couldn't change at this point. She just pushed the negative into the back of her mind, and allowed herself a small external smile, something she did not do very often. She was finally going to be doing what she had trained to do her entire life. Cato was right when he said she was trying to prove she could do this on her own. Her parents would see. She was going to become a victor. But doing it on her own would be hard now that Cato was here. She was very competitive with Cato because he was her training partner. And he had this nasty habit of always trying to best her, and sometimes it went so far that in order to best her, he would end up helping her. Her bad thoughts returned to the forefront of her mind, and she frowned again.
"You know," Cato's voice startled her; she hadn't known he was awake. She almost jumped, silently cursing at herself for not noticing his change in breathing; slipping up like that in the games could get her killed. "you always look so sadistic, or serious, or angry." She glared at him. "But then, when you think no one is looking, you smile, and I mean really smile. And I love it when you look like that."
She rolled her eyes at him. "Cato, what have I told you about being weak now that we are in the games?"
"It's not weak. It's an observation. And maybe if you didn't look so pissed off all the time I wouldn't even notice. It wouldn't be bad for you to be more pleasant; it would probably help us to get sponsors if you did." He said, frustrating her.
Before she could answer, there was a series of light knocks on Cato's door. "Cato, dear!" Clove groaned at their escort, Wanda's, extremely shrill voice. She buried her face in a pillow. "It's time to wake up! We are almost to the Capitol! Tick tock goes the clock, hurry up or you won't get any breakfast!"
"Well Cato, you won't have to worry about going into the arena with me." Clove said, looking up at him, as he looked back at her in confusion. "Because you see, I will not be making it that far; nope, I will kill Wanda before we get there, and I hear that sort of thing is frowned upon."
Cato snorted a laugh at Clove's inability to get along with other people. "Clove, I know she's annoying and all, but you need to start trying not to hate everyone you meet."
"But why not? Why does that even matter at this point?" Cato was surprised to hear Clove's voice hitch; it was the closest to whining he had ever heard her come to.
"Because, Clove, in order for us to get sponsors we have to get people to like us, okay?" He said, putting both his hands on either side of her face. "You want to win, don't you?" She nodded. "Okay, well can you just try not to hate everyone you meet?"
Clove sighed. "Fine." She said pouting. "But it would be easier if people weren't so damn irritating."
"There's nothing wrong with pretending you like them, even if you don't. That way you can use the people and things around you to help you win the games. Okay?" He said.
"Okay." She agreed.
"Brilliant." He said, kissing her on the forehead.
When Cato didn't answer Wanda, she knocked again, more urgently. "Oh keep your skirt on, Wanda." Cato called. "We're coming!" He said, standing up, ignoring Clove's protests.
"Excuse me! How rude, young man. You really must work on your manners!" Wanda shouted shrilly through the door. Clove threw on her purple dress, watching Cato grimace; he hated the dress, and she loved that it irritated him. "And until I... wait, a moment, what do you mean by we?"
"Cato." Clove said, and he looked over at her as he pulled his boxers on. "I know you hate this dress and all, but could you maybe zip me up and tie it for me, since I have no other clothes in here. And I would rather not go commando, although it would freak out Wanda..." She momentarily dwelled on the idea before going on to say, "Well?"
His grimace deepened, but he made his way over to her after he had pulled on and zipped his pants up. She turned around and looked at them in the mirror on the wall opposite her. He came up right behind her, and towered over her, once again reminding her of just how small she really was. She surveyed the damage on her skin, noticing most of it was hidden by the dress, but there were five little bruises on her right thigh right above her knee, that looked to be the size of Cato's fingers. She smirked; Cato did have a way of leaving a mark on her.
Cato pulled the zipper up slowly, barely touching her skin. The gentleness was so unlike him. It was then that he spun her around, grabbing the ties of her dress roughly, crossing them behind her, pulling her towards him so that their bodies were pressed up against each other. Ah, there was the Cato she was used to.
"I may be tying this dress right now," Cato said in a low, rough voice. "But, if you don't change before we get off this train, I will rip the dress off your body in public." He said, finishing off tying the back of the dress into a bow. "Understood?"
"You are such a drama queen." She said to him, but her breathing was as hard as his.
"I'll take that as a yes." He said, kissing her roughly on the mouth before letting go of her.
They had been ignoring Wanda, but when Cato didn't answer any of Wanda's incessant questions, she went on in that annoying voice of hers. "If you insist on being difficult, I will have to go wake up Clove since she's the only one you don't just grunt at." Cato grabbed a light blue shirt out of the closet, and then opened the door. Wanda's face was priceless.
"Yea, well you won't find me there, although you are welcome to go check." Clove said in her sickly sweet voice.
"And if you must know," Cato said, throwing an arm around Clove before continuing. "Sometimes I do grunt at her." He said suggestively, giving Wanda a wink.
Wanda looked like she had just been told she could no longer get that ridiculous blue lipstick shade she wore every year to the reaping. Her eyes were so wide and round, it looked unnatural. "Well I never!" She shouted, storming off. "Wait until your mentors hear about this!"
Cato and Clove started laughing as they followed her to the dining car. However, Cato was glad when they got there, that it seemed she had not told Enobaria nor Brutus about them. What did Wanda really have anyway? A joke Cato made, and Clove coming out of his room with him? Why couldn't they visit each other without suspicion? Wanda had nothing solid to prove it and if she tried, they would have no problem denying it. It wasn't like he was trying to hide Clove; but he didn't want to be exploited. That was not how Cato worked. He would not let whatever fucked up, confusing thing he had going on with Clove come into the limelight. It was too risky in so many ways.
Arriving in the Capitol was not exciting as everyone would make it out to be. Sure the city was amazing and all. But Clove found herself once again, bored. She did, however, manage to put on a different dress, considering Cato threatened to rip it off in public if she didn't change. Now standing in front of the Capitol people who were waving and shouting, she wore a flowing black dress that clung to her in a way that she most definitely like. He insisted she leave her hair down, but it went back in a ponytail immediately.
Cato smirked at the Capitol idiots, acting like he didn't even need to wave or be friendly. He didn't. Then again, neither did Clove. They were District 2 tributes; Careers. Strong and lethal. So Clove allowed herself to look how she felt; bored. Cato rolled his eyes at her. She either looked bored or pissed, always. It made her hard to read. He hated it, but admired how she could hold onto that look no matter what; not much ever truly phased her.
Once inside the building they would be spending almost all their time in until the games, Cato saw her look change. She was excited to touch knives again. They comforted her. He knew she was just itching to train. They got in their suite, which was their own floor, and she seemed still bored despite its lavishness. All she wanted to do was feel the cold metal blade of a knife in her hands, and he knew that.
For the first time in a while, Clove was the unfocused, explosive one; not having a knife in her hand was putting her on edge. Cato found himself on the other end this time, keeping an eye on her to make sure she didn't snap and kill someone.
By the time the night had rolled around, Clove had managed to terrify all the Avoxes; she'd even given Wanda quite a fright. It was clear that things needed to change, and fast. Enobaria turned to Cato for an answer. "Cato, how do I get that training partner of yours to go back to normal?"
"Since when is Clove normal?" Enobaria looked at him in a way that made him think being a smart-ass with her would not get him anywhere. "Okay, you want her to be normal again? let her carry a knife." Enobaria began to protest, but he cut her off. "You want my help or not? I don't mean you have to give her a sharp one, any knife will do, but give her a knife to hold onto. Knives calm her. She sleeps with one under her pillow. If she doesn't get a hold of one soon, she will probably start turning into me and throwing things. She won't make it to training without a knife. Get whatever permission you need, and give her a knife. I guarantee she will be back to normal in no time."
Later that night, Cato was sitting on the edge of his bed. He was not wearing a shirt, because the light blue shirt he had been wearing was not as comfortable as he had hoped. He had his head in his hands, thinking about her. Clove. Clove Carson. Training partner. Pain in the ass. Somehow, they had gone further together than either had ever thought. They went from annoying the shit out of each other daily, to playing a sick game they both enjoyed way too much. A dangerous game, considering where they were now. Something that was honestly no longer even a game, but still very dangerous. They were completely tangled up in one another. Cato knew none of it would end well. But Clove was becoming a necessary drug for him, something as necessary as breathing. He also knew this was very dangerous. None of this was ever supposed to happen. And now, when he should be focusing on training and the games, he was all caught up in Clove, letting his temper control him, and trying to figure out this puzzle.
Suddenly, there was a knock on Cato's door. "What?" He said, hoping to the good lord it wasn't Wanda again. If she gave him one more lecture about manners, he knew he would probably kill her. It wasn't. The door opened, and Clove stood there. "Oh, it's you." Cato knew he wasn't being fair.
"Yea." She said, looking at her feet. It was the first time he had ever seen Clove looking anything but sure and intense.
"Well?" He asked when she didn't say anything. "What do you want, Clove?"
"Nothing." She said, getting annoyed with his obvious irritation towards her. He saw a glint in her hand, and realized she was indeed holding onto a knife. "Forget it." She said, beginning to leave.
"Butter knife?" Cato said with a smirk, unable to help himself. He knew he should just let her walk out thinking he was tired of her. But he couldn't, and he wasn't. He leaned back on the bed, propping himself up with his elbows as he waited for her to respond.
She paused, and looked down at the knife, then back over her shoulder at him. Her face was expressionless. "Yea. Enobaria gave it to me. She said she couldn't give me a throwing knife, but if I happened to keep a butter knife from dinner, it wouldn't be missed."
"She probably doesn't realize just how much damage you could do with that thing." He said, knowing he should just let her walk away, he really needed to. But he felt like he needed her to stay just as much.
Clove turned her whole body back around to face him and leaned against the door, looking down at the knife again, turning it over in her hands. "Yea." He hoped that was the end of it, hoped she would leave. But then, she did it. She smiled. That real smile. Twice in one day? That was rare. And entrancing. The smile was only on her face for a fraction of a second, and was replaced by her bored look almost immediately, but it had happened. And Cato was powerless against it. "Cato, I came her to ask... was it you? Did you say something to Enobaria?"
She looked up at him, and he cocked his head to the side. Instead of answering her, he just motioned for her to come in. She came out of the doorway and closed the door. And she did it of her own free will. She knew that she never had any power against it, against him. She wanted their twisted whirlwind of insanity just as much as he did. He may not have realized it, but her thoughts had been mirroring his all day. That's why not having a knife to calm her had affected her so quickly; she had so much neurosis over Cato and what in the world she was gonna do... and what in the world she was feeling. He never knew how much she had battled herself, for how many hours she had tried to to just focus on the games. But she couldn't, her mind kept wandering back to him. She paced her room earlier for an hour. Then she let herself wander around the train, but ended up at his door. She had stood there for almost a half an hour outside of his door. Trying to pull herself away; trying but not succeeding. She was so torn. In the end, he won out; he always would. He just didn't realize it. He didn't realize any of it. He only knew that she had come there of her own free will. She sought him out. And for now that's all he needed.
The next morning, Cato woke up before Clove for only the second time since he had slept in the same bed as her. He slid out from under her, thanking the lord that he didn't wake her up at all; she would probably cut him pretty bad if he did. He looked down at her, loving how she looked when she slept. Not angry at all, peaceful even, which was something he never saw when she was awake. He let himself reach out and move a stray hair out of her face and stopped suddenly, jerking his hand away. She stirred but didn't wake up. He ran his hand through his hair, realizing Clove was right; he might be getting weak. And it was all because of her. He left Clove to sleep in his bed, standing up, needing to take a lap around the building to clear his head; well, what he really needed was a run, outside, but he knew that wasn't gonna happen anytime soon.
When he walked out of his room, he cast one last look at Clove, before shutting the door. He turned around and almost ran right into Brutus.
Cato waited for Brutus to speak, but then realized that was a stupid thing to do; Brutus had barely said a single word the entire time they had been there. The only things he had said were some key pieces of advice about the games that Cato would not soon forget; other than that though, there was nothing.
"Good morning, Brutus."
Brutus nodded in acknowledgement, and looked over Cato's shoulder. "I get it, you know."
"Get what, sir?" Cato said, knowing what was coming.
"I see the way you look at her. The Carson girl." Brutus leaned up against the wall, looking at Cato in a way that made him severely uncomfortable. "I also happened to be walking down this hall last night right around the time she went into her room last night. I also take it, by the fact that you are out here that she is still in there." Cato felt the full impact of his mentors words. It was like getting hit by a ten ton truck. He knew; Brutus knew. "That girl, your training partner. You are closer than you would ever let on, aren't you?" Cato knew it wasn't really a question, but he chose to respond to it anyways with a hesitant nod.
"I'm not going to tell anyone if that is what's got you all choked up." Brutus said, making Cato relax. "But, I will tell you this; it's a bad idea to continue this. I don't care how long it has been going on, the games change people in the worst way." He said, pushing off the wall. "I guarantee you this; it won't end well. For you or for her. She will be the instrument of your demise. My advice is to keep it a secret, since I can tell that you are stubborn and won't cut things off with her. Don't let people use her against you and don't let her use this against you either." He walked away, and then called over his shoulder. "Oh, and make sure someone else kills her during the games, that way you don't have to." With that, he was gone.
When he was sure Brutus was out of earshot, Cato slammed his fists against the wall repeatedly until they bloodied. Hearing all his fears out loud like that brought his anger to the surface, it was something he could no longer contain. Suddenly, he felt small, nimble hands pull at his waist, his shoulders. "Cato! What the hell is going on? Cato stop! CATO!"
He knew all to well who it was, and for some reason, that only helped to make him angrier. He let out a loud, strange yell as he turned around, ramming her as hard as he could against the wall. As her body slammed so hard against the wall that she let out an involuntary gasp of shock and pain, her eyes wide as she searched for humility in his. "CATO!" She screamed in his face.
"WHAT? WHAT DO YOU WANT, CLOVE? WHAT MORE COULD YOU POSSIBLY WANT FROM ME? I HAVE NOTHING LEFT TO GIVE YOU!"
"NOTHING!" She shouted back. "I've never wanted anything more than you were willing to give, and you know it! So don't you dare turn this on me!" He didn't respond for a moment, and she lowered her voice. "What the hell has gotten into you?"
"You, Clove! It's always been you." He tried to keep his temper down, his voice too, but he felt himself begin screaming in her face again. "I MEAN, DO YOU HAVE ANY IDEA WHAT YOU ARE DOING TO MY HEAD? YOU FUCK THINGS UP CLOVE! YOU ALWAYS HAVE." She looked hurt for only a flash of a second, and he knew he should stop, that he'd gone too far. However, that bored, deadpan look was on her face once more, and he couldn't help it. "IS IT ENOUGH YET? HAVE YOU FINALLY HAD ENOUGH?"
Suddenly, without warning, she kicked his knees. He felt the pain run up his legs and staggered back a few steps. She was on him in a flash, slamming him against the wall for a change. She had caught him off-guard. She pulled her knife out, and pressed it against his throat. There was something in his eyes he had never seen from her before. "Yes, Cato. It's enough." She then pulled back. "I've had enough." With that she turned, walking away.
He did not see her for the rest of the day. Not at lunch. Not when the mentors and Wanda were watching the repeat of the reaping and all the tributes showing up to the Capitol. Not when discussing strategy with Brutus (he assumed she was with Enobaria). Not when Wanda was telling him the schedule for the next day, which would be a day of the tributes parade (the tributes for District 12 still had not arrived on account of how far away from the Capitol their district was). Not even at dinner; apparently she had gotten there before him and left before he arrived.
That night, when he went to his room, he found her black dress still lying there on the ground. He had picked it up, and held it to himself. It smelled of her. He realized what a mistake he made. To hell with what Brutus said. Cato hoped it wasn't too late as he got up and ran to Clove's room with reckless abandon.