Her parents told her not to fall in love, not in the arena. You are in there to kill, show them bloodlust, not primal lust. But she wasn't in love with, Cato, not really. Was she?
She told her self that she wasn't in love with him, when they sat by the fire, so relaxed, as if they were out camping and not out to kill each other.
She told herself she wasn't in love with him as they mocked each other when they couldn't reach Katniss.
She told herself this when he kissed her against a tree, because screw the firewood, we can afford to freeze a little longer. She'll go before us.
When they went to sleep, she swore down that she wasn't in love with him, even though she tucked herself against him, curled up like a lover, he grunts and tries to shove her away but she persists so he tucks her closer and lets her sleep against him, a tangle of limbs and metal. He definitely doesn't whisper in her ear that he'll save her to last. And she definitely didn't thank him. No, she would not smudge her pride like that.
And when she heard the faint buzzing, she didn't scream his name to the heavens, but it burnt itself into her mind, she saw it high in the sky as she fell and the stings nipped into her. She squirmed and thrashed on the ground and she screamed for Cato, Marvel, Clove, she wanted one of them to come help her! Save her! This wasn't the way it was supposed to happen!
Fuck the pride, she screamed his name loud and long, she wanted Cato to save her, but she was slowly fading, until...
A face, above her, she tries to mmove her lips but it was agonizing to do so, she could make out blurred features. it wasn't him. It wasn't him. He didn't care. He didn't care about her. Why would he? She's just another piece in the game. He would take the crown home and find another blonde. Stronger, faster, better than her.
Her heart rate sped up.
There was pain.
'Twas brief.