Dear FAITHFUL readers,

So sorry it's been so long since an update! I have schoolwork up to my eyeballs. But I had some free moments here and there and finally finished the next chapter, it is kind of short so I apologize for that. But hopefully I can finish the next chapter relatively quickly at this point. I know that they announce the thing about two people from the same district being able to both be victors that night but I will include that part in the next chapter, so don't freak out, ok? However I'm sure I'm the only one really freaking out about that/the timeline of events. Now I hope you enjoy this, sorry for my rambling. And thanks to those still reading and to those who review! It makes my day to get your feedback. Okay I've taken up enough of your time with this author's note. ENJOY!

After a long night of unsuccessful hunting, Clove and Cato were sitting on opposite sides of their old fire pit. Clove and Marvel had kind of made up in the way that they were sure they wouldn't kill each other. With that assurance, Marvel slept while the other two kept watch.

Clove and Cato, on the other hand, hadn't spoken since the incident. Clove stared at him openly while he sharpened the blade of his sword, completely entranced. She always knew Cato had a bloodlust no one could rival. But Marvel had a point; yesterday it reached a new high, because Cato had really tried to murder her. He wanted to and he would've if Marvel hadn't intervened. And while Clove was not one to be all emotional or easily offended, she was hurt.

She was also starting to realize that she was losing Cato to the Games. She was already insane before the games, but Cato had never been as psycho as she had. But that was changing, and changing quickly. She was still practically in denial over her almost-death at the hands of her former (and she guessed still kind of current) lover. She used to think that she could trust him. Now she wasn't so sure.

Her mental musings had gotten to her, and she sighed aloud, looking away from him. She saw Cato look up at her questioningly out of the corner of her eye, but he didn't say a word.

"I should've listened to Brutus." Clove said, breaking their silence, looking at him.

"And what is that supposed to mean?" Cato said, standing up, holding her gaze. His words were harmless enough, but they sounded threatening, as if Clove was treading on dangerous ground.

"You changed." She rubbed her neck (which was still purple from where he had choked her) as she for the first time in her life actually straight up spoke what was on her mind without the filter. "Everything changed."

"This isn't about yesterday is it?" He said, rolling his eyes, walking over to her.

Clove looked up at him, stunned. "You mean when you tried to kill me? Um yea, it kind of is." She said, standing, infuriated.

"I'm sorry I choked you." He said in a way that suggested he didn't really understand the gravity of his previous actions. He was being playful Cato, which didn't fit with the psycho Cato who he had been just yesterday. "I can make it better."

He went in to kiss her and she turned her head. "Cato, cut it out." She said, pushing him back a bit.

He looked at her confused. "What's wrong?"

"What part of 'you tried to kill me yesterday' are you not getting?" She said with disbelief.

"Oh come on, Clove." Cato said in that way that usually made her cave because it made her feel ridiculous and petty. All it did now was serve to anger her more considering he was belittling his attempt to murder her. "I wasn't gonna kill you. We fight all the time and I've never actually killed you. You're just overreacting." He continued on, brushing the whole thing off like it was no big deal.

"Overacting? You're one to talk."

"Okay I get it; you're mad at me. I'm being a hypocrite and I crossed the line yesterday." He said, as if it wasn't a big deal that he almost killed her earlier.

"No, you really don't get it." She said, trying to move around him but he blocked her way.

"Well then tell me what I don't get Clove, instead of running away from all of your problems." He said, purposely trying to piss her off now.

"What is that supposed to do, Cato? Hurt me? Make me cry?" She questioned. "You should know me better than that by now."

"Oh trust me, I do. I don't expect to make you cry." He said, leaning up against the cornucopia, smirk on his face with his arms crossed. "You have to have feelings to cry."

"You know what Cato, you are kind of pissing me off more than usual." She said through gritted teeth.

"Oh, is that a fact?"

"Huh. I didn't think that was possible." Clove and Cato both looked to where Marvel had been sleeping; he stood now, looking awake and awkward. Cato gave him a death glare that told him he had intruded on a personal conversation, so he put up his hands in mock surrender and said, "Well I can see this is clearly none of my business. So I'll leave you two to work out your issues while I go hunt for other tributes."

"Marvel, that's really not necessary."

"It's all good, really. Besides, I'll never kill anyone with two arguing and screaming at one another." Marvel walked off, saying over his shoulder. "I shouldn't be too long. See you guys in a bit."

Clove stepped away from Cato after that, and turned her back to him. Sitting a good distance away from him. He eventually sat down on the ground himself, but made sure not to sit anywhere near Cove. The two of them sat in silence for what felt like an eternity.

"You know, I really do hate you sometimes." Clove said out of nowhere.

It hit Cato that this time, Clove wasn't just being playful; not like she used to anyway. He realized that she was really actually starting to hate him. That thought stung him more than any tracker jacker sting could; and it cut him deeper than any knife of hers ever had. "I know." Was all Cato could bring himself to say.

Clove realized she had hurt him with her words; she had wanted to after all. He deserved it after all the crap he put her through. But seeing it in front of her face... she couldn't help but take a step towards him. She stopped herself though, trying to fight the urge to give in to him. It looked to Cato like she was about to say something but a loud cannon sounded.

Clove's eyes went wide as saucers as her head whipped towards the woods that Marvel had disappeared into a couple of hours earlier. Cato came to stand beside her, looking at the woods as well. Any minute, Marvel would burst back through. Any moment he would come bragging to them how he had gotten the "girl on fire" without them, and it was easy. They waited... and waited; but nothing happened. Clove finally said, "Do you think he actually did it? Could she be dead?" Then a look of uncertainty flashed across her face before her expression went blank again. "Or do you think he's-"

"I don't know." Cato said, suddenly irritated at the mention of Marvel; or more specifically, at Clove's very poorly hidden concern for Marvel. Cato still hadn't confronted Clove about the kiss he had seen between Clove and Marvel. He wasn't sure if he even wanted to; all he was sure about is that he really just wanted distance from Clove at the moment. "He's probably just taking his damn sweet time because he can; you know Marvel. He'll want to make a grand entrance. I'll bet he's fine." Cato said, turning away from her, sitting a few yards away. She looked at him with a hint of confusion, but didn't comment on his strange behavior. "Let's just wait for now."

Clove sat down herself, laying out all of her knives in front of herself. That's when the second cannon fired. Clove froze, her hand hovering over the knife she had been reaching for. They were both stunned and confused, but neither of them let it show on their faces. Clove looked to Cato. "What does that mean?" She asked evenly, grabbing the knife she had been reaching for. No one watching would know, but Cato did; he knew Clove and he could tell she was worried.

Cato thought about just ignoring her and not answering. One look at her face and he just couldn't do that. "I don't know." Cato answered honestly, thinking of all the different possible meanings and events that could've lead to the two cannons firing. "The cannons might not even be related to one another; they could indicate two completely separate altercations. We'll see soon enough." He added.

After that, they didn't talk anymore. Cato just sat a fair distance from Clove, waiting for Marvel to return. Clove practiced throwing her knives, while Cato just sharpened his sword. Time kept ticking by and Marvel was nowhere to be found.

"He's not back yet." Clove said, breaking their silence as it started getting dark. "Something is wrong."

Cato was fed up with her excessive concern for Marvel's safety. Who was Marvel, really, in the grand scheme of things? "Even if he is dead, we're better off without him." Cato said, knowing as soon as the words left his mouth that it was harsh, even for him.

Clove snapped her head in his direction, narrowing her eyes at him. "How can you say that? He's been a great addition to our alliance."

Cato nodded. "True. But I stand by what I said."

"Why?" Clove demanded.

"I just do." Cato said, avoiding her gaze.

"Really? We're playing this game now?" Clove said, frustrated. "We've been over this before. I can't read your mind Cato, so why don't we just skip this whole part where I try guessing what's up your ass." When he didn't respond to her, she stomped her little feet over to him and stood in front of him with her arms crossed. She looked down at him, demanding. "Don't make me ask you again." She said in a dangerous voice as she looked down at him.

Cato stood to face her; he didn't like how she was questioning him. If anyone should be getting questioned, it should be her. "Because I saw you with Marvel, Clove." He said, unable to hold it back anymore. He stared at her with accusing eyes.

She looked confused for a second, and then she got it; he could tell because she went pale. She let a flicker of shock, then fear, fly across her face; then she was a blank slate again. It pissed him off, as per usual. "It was an accident." She finally said in a small voice.

"An accident? An accident?!" Cato roared at her. She didn't even flinch. She knew Cato well enough to know that it was coming. "Really? That's what you're gonna go with?"

"Yes, because it's true." Clove said, her voice even. "And for the record, he kissed me, not the other way around."

"Well you sure as hell took your time pulling away." Cato said. When she did not react, he added, "Besides I'm pretty sure kissing someone back is almost as bad as initiating the kiss in the first place."

Clove just held his eye contact, refusing to look away with guilt. "It was a mistake, Cato." She would not give him the satisfaction of shaming her because she didn't feel she was in the wrong; but this only made him angrier.

"Oh was it really?" He taunted her, getting right in her face. "Then why don't I believe you?"

"Because you've clearly lost the little sanity you ever had!" She shouted, finally losing her temper.

"And as usual, you're ever the hypocrite." He said, looking her up and down with disgust.

"You're one to talk Cato!" She spat at him. "As I recall, you're the one who slept with the blonde bimbo. And correct me if I'm wrong, but the last time I checked, fucking is a lot worse than a kiss!"

Cato did realize he was wrong, but he refused to admit it to her. Seeing her smug about being right would make him lose his mind. "OH, so you're gonna throw that in my face again, are you?"

"If you insist on dangling this thing with Marvel over my head then yes, I will. Because someone needs to remind you that this is not a one way street." She said with exasperation. "And I'm not gonna put up with that anymore." She said, turning away.

"Where are you going? What does that mean? Don't just walk away from me!" He said, knowing full well he sounded like a small child.

She turned back and look at him, saying, "It means that you need to get your shit together. Because you don't get to just tell me what to do anymore, Cato." With that, she walked back over to her knives and continued throwing them, but with new vehemence.

She threw her knives until it got too dark to see, then she just got her night vision glasses and continued throwing. Cato sat away from her by a fire he had built.

The anthem started playing, and the Panem symbol shined in the sky. Clove took of off her glasses and stared hard at the sky. Cato was watching Clove instead.

The first face that Clove saw made her feel like she was falling and she would never stop; Marvel was dead. That thought echoed in her head; her only company besides Cato, the only person that made Cato's temper tantrums bearable, was dead. She tried to hold onto her sanity thinking that maybe, just maybe, Marvel had managed to take out Katniss before he died. That would make it all worth it. But instead of her, the little girl from District 11's face flashed in the sky. Clove couldn't even process what she was seeing. Then, the sky went blank.

Now Cato was pissed. Katniss kept making fools out of them, of him, and it was about damn time she paid for it. He punched a tree, hard. He barely felt it. He was pretty sure he actually did more damage to the tree than to his hand. He had been lost in his own thoughts so deeply that he had forgotten about Clove, until he heard a piercing scream tear out of her throat.

He turned to look at her, startled by her scream. She was enraged as she had been the night before they had entered the games. Oh no, not again. Cato thought. He sometimes regretted pulling her feelings to the surface; when she raged, she was just as bad as Cato himself, if not worse. He realized that she was going for her knives. He really should let her hurt herself; that was mostly likely what she as going to do. But he really couldn't let her do it. Even if they had issues, she was still his district partner.

"Bad idea, Clove." He said warning, getting in her way before she could reach them; she had thrown all of them into a tree when practicing earlier or she wouldn't need to retrieve them. He thanked the lord she had been practicing earlier.

"Get out of my way Cato." She said through gritted teeth, clenching her fists at her sides.

"I can't do that." He said, shaking his head.

"I mean it. MOVE." She shouted at him.

"That's not going to happen, Clove." He said, more forcefully this time. Clove tried to get around him, but he had figured she would try that. He grabbed her and held her tightly to his chest. She screamed at him and beat on his chest and called him a dirty bastard, and any other name she could think of. She did not cry this time, but it lasted longer than her last temper tantrum had. Cato just weathered her abuse so that she wouldn't hurt herself, knowing that she would do the same thing for him.

She started to quiet. her temper subsiding a bit, and Cato sunk down to a sitting position, pulling her into his lap. They sat like that for a while. Then Clove did the strangest thing; she looked up at him, and for the first time (willingly) since they had entered the arena, she pressed her lips against his.

Cato immediately responded; up until this moment, he hadn't realized just how much he really missed it. He remembered where they were and pulled back, looking down at her. "What about the Games? What about what you said earlier-"

"To be honest, I don't give a flying fuck. About any of it." Clove said, pulling his face down to hers, kissing him hard. He gladly obliged. Neither of them really gave a shit that all of Panem was watching them. Clove was angry and needed the sedation being physical with Cato gave her. And even though she would never admit it to him, she had missed it. The Games had changed everything; they had changed the two of them in ways Clove had never even imagined. But none of that mattered anymore. For the first time in a long time, Clove fell asleep in Cato's arms.