Okay and so here we are at the start of Part II. The Quarter Quell is right around the corner and never has more been at stake. I'm just so excited to be here and finally start putting into play everything I've slowly been building and setting up over Part I. So get ready because the future of Panem is about to be decided.
Part II: The Fire Builds
Ch. 13- Lost and Found
Immediately they were brought to the train and whisked away to the Capitol before the events that had just transpired had time to settle in anyone's mind. No goodbyes were allowed this time, no moments given to gather one's composure. No they were carted off by a brigade of Peacekeepers and taken straight to the train that began moving as soon as they stepped on. It was reminiscent of the time Peeta and Cato were hurried to the train after the Victory Tour speeches. The atmosphere was dangerously close to combusting and Peeta hoped desperately that there was no violence. District Twelve didn't need any more trouble.
Haymitch was brought with them to be their mentor again, along with Effie Trinket as their handler. It was silent on the train car save for the electric hum of the train hurtling its way towards the Capitol and Primrose's stifled sniffling like that of a sick cat.
Even now, miles from District Twelve, Peeta couldn't get the image of Gale's face from his mind. It remained like the ghost of an image imprinted on the back of his eyelids to be seen every time they closed. He couldn't let Prim go in this with out him. Peeta may have broken his promise to Gale, but he knew Gale couldn't hold that against him. He just wished he hadn't been such a coward, that he had stayed and talked with Gale instead of running to the Reaping. Now he knew he would never get the chance again. There was no way he was making it out of the Quarter Quell alive; he had accepted that as soon as Prim's name was called out. He just had to make sure she made it and then he will have made good on his promise to Katniss.
The television wouldn't work when Peeta tried to turn it on and see how the other Reaping's had gone. To get an idea of the tributes they would be facing (or should he say Victors?) and more specifically to see what happened in Two. Peeta's very blood felt like poison to him. It burned through his veins as it raced to corrupt his heart. Would he ever see Cato again? Maybe it was better that he died with this secret. At least Cato would think he had remained faithful. Anything was better than seeing that look of betrayal on his face again, like when he kept from Cato that they couldn't live in Two together.
Why did it seem like Peeta was sabotaging at every turn the only relationship he'd ever had?
It was around three in the morning when Peeta jolted awake to screaming. A young girls scream that he feared he might start to hear all to often. He sprung from the bed like a rocket and ran towards the cries. They were coming from the other end of the train car.
"No! NOOO!"
Peeta burst through the dividing door to find Prim struggling in the hallway with two Peacekeepers. The white uniformed men restrained her arms from each side as she dug into the floor against them.
"Lemme go! It's a mistake! PLEASE!"
While unsure what had happened Peeta lunged into action and threw a punch at the nearest Peacekeeper. Somehow he managed to land a solid hit against the corner of the man's jaw. He fell back into the wall with a grunt. The other Peacekeeper quickly let go of Prim, hands raised. He didn't want a fight. Peeta still held his fists at the ready, the only weapons available to him.
"We were just trying to restrain her. She tried to jump from the train."
Peeta's eyes flicked between Prim and the Peacekeepers, trying to take in the situation quickly. Prim looked frazzled and her hair was distinctly windswept. He nodded.
"I'll take care of it. Thank you."
The one that spoke nodded and turned to leave back to one of the other train cars. The one he punched followed but stopped at the door and intoned gravely, "You better watch her or we'll be forced to restrain her."
"That won't be necessary."
They left and Peeta took Prim by the hand and guided her back to her room. She was shaking like a leaf. Tears streaked her face and her eyes were wild and untamed, like a cornered animal. He made a strangled noise and suddenly pulled her into a fierce hug. She was stiff and shivering in his arms before slowly giving in, nestling her head against his chest.
"Shush, shush, it's okay Prim. It's going to be okay," He whispered soothingly into her hair, wishing he could believe the same for him.
She pushed away and fell to her bed with a sob.
"But it's not! This is the Hunger Games and I'm going to die just like Katniss!"
She was sobbing into the pillow now, her nails digging into the bedding like knives. Peeta didn't know how to help. He sat at the edge of the bed and laid a hand at the center of her back rubbing small semi-circles back and forth.
"That wont happen." Peeta growled. There was such conviction in his words that Prim hiccupped and pulled away from the pillow to look at him. "I promise you Prim, I'm going to do everything I can to make sure you make it through this. I've done this before and I'll do it again for you. You're just going to have to trust me. But I need to be able to trust you too. So can I?"
She looked at him confused.
"Why did you try to jump from the train?" Peeta tried to be calm, but the mere thought of her trying to do such a thing—leaving him like that—hit a nerve that made him want to lash out.
Primrose bit her lip and bowed her head in shame. "I just wanted to run. I thought maybe if I could get off the train they couldn't find me and I wouldn't have to do it."
"Oh Prim," Peeta threw his arm around her shoulders and pulled her back in for another hug. He held her like that for a while before she asked if he would stay with her. Of course he would.
They repositioned on the bed so that she was curled up in his arms. Over the past summer Peeta had come to see her as a strong and determined young woman, but here he was reminded again just how young she really was. This was obviously a cruel form of punishment by Snow against Peeta. He knew if Prim was forced into the Quarter Quell that no matter how the drawing went for the male tribute of Twelve Peeta would make sure he went back into the games too.
"Sing me a song?" Prim slurred sleepily into his arm.
"Like what?"
She thought a moment and the silence dragged on to the point that he thought she might have fallen asleep when she finally spoke.
"Deep in the Meadow… Katniss used to sing it to me."
Peeta felt a hallow pang in the center of his chest. He knew the song though. He had heard Katniss sing it herself once at school. And so he took a deep breath and then began the soothing lullaby.
"Deep in the meadow, under the willow
A bed of grass, a soft green pillow
Lay down your head, and close your sleepy eyes
And when you awake, the sun will rise…"
The next morning they were woken by Effie and then escorted to the remake center. Peeta could see the fear of being separated reflected back at him in Prim's eyes and he tried to smile, hoping she knew it would be all right. For now at least.
And then there was Portia waiting to greet Peeta in the holding room after his remake team finished with him (the hickey was quickly dispensed of thankfully and his Pacemaker given a full check up again—all was thankfully good). Their hug lasted only a few seconds, but in that span of time Peeta felt his heart rate calm and his mind put at ease. She always had that effect on him. The calming presence of a maternal figure, she effused love and warmth in her quick embrace. He wished he knew what it was like to have someone care for him like that all his life and not in such a terrible and forced situation.
"So, I've modified a few things I had in the pipeline to work as your costume for the opening ceremony. It'll be similar to your experience with the tuxedo you wore for the interview, but on a much grander scale." Portia laced her fingers together with a glinting smile. He should have felt nervous, but after all this time Peeta had come to trust her implicitly.
"I hope you don't mind that I used some of the items we tried on for your wedding."
It was like being plunged into a tub of ice at the mention of his wedding. Peeta must have made some type of face because Portia tried to assuage his fears by promising to have just as a great a wedding outfit for him when the time came, but she thought this might be an important moment to make a statement. What ever that meant.
Having been through all this before Peeta thought he might be numb to it all, but it was just as surreal an experience as the first. The sheer volume of people screaming and craning their necks to get a peek at him overwhelmed every nerve. All his confidence was immediately lost as Portia brought him to the loading bay where the chariot ride began. There he finally got the chance to see the other Tributes he would be up against. Or he might as well call them what they are—Victors. Proven killers. The best, the most brutal and most cunning that managed to survive the bloodbath and harsh arenas until the very end. Peeta spotted a very attractive pair from One. A golden skinned man with short cropped blonde locks and an equally stunning young woman with the same blonde hair that fell in perfect coils laced with gold down to her mid back. Peeta knew of them, they were brother and sister, Cashmere and Gloss. Both won the games in consecutive years. They were beautiful and deadly. The chariots were lined in descending order, which meant Two was positioned just behind them. Peeta's heart clenched like the tensing of a fist. Who would be the male tribute? There was a terrifyingly familiar visage of a woman with gold-capped teeth filed to a razor's edge. And right next to Enobaria stood the punch to the gut Peeta had been hoping and pleading wouldn't be there.
It was Cato.
A fresh wave of guilt slammed into Peeta like a charging stag, it's antlers boring into the soft flesh of his abdomen, tearing to shreds his stomach and radiating a very real pain throughout his body. Cato was here too. He hadn't escaped. This really was retribution for their actions. And on top of it all he had betrayed the man he claimed to love more than anything. He was led past Cato to his waiting chariot and that's when those loving chocolate brown eyes landed on his. They were surprised and unsurprised, terrified yet defiant, and also oddly worn out. Peeta quickly took in his limp posture and that his clothes fit oddly. Of course that was when he decided to conjure up Gale's face in his mind's eye and he was forced to look away in shame.
Peeta was quickly led to his golden chariot where he reunited with Primrose and Cato's face was lost down the long line of chariots. Cinna was with Prim and she clung to him nervously until she saw Peeta. She made a beeline straight for his side. Her hair was done up in the same style as Katniss's for the opening ceremony last year and a fresh bout of grief washed over him, mingling with the guilt and burdening him with a weight he wasn't sure he could carry. It was all too much.
Then suddenly the ceremony was beginning and the first chariot was out the gate. Peeta's eye briefly caught the chariot for Four before it exited the bay doors. There was a perfectly chiseled male specimen holding a glinting gold trident and his ass was clearly visible through the loose covering of ropes around his groin. Peeta was thankful Portia wasn't that liberal with his costume.
Portia quickly threw the cape over Peeta's back and he fastened it to his collar as she took a torch to the edges. Prim gasped at the effect, which was lost on him as he couldn't look over his back. They were both dressed in charcoal black formal wear. The material of the suit was heavy against Peeta's body while the cape was as light as a feather and he barely registered it hanging off his back.
Then they jolted forward as the horses began to trot out the gates. Prim's hand clung to Peeta's and he squeezed it, winking at her out of the corner of his eye. She smiled and then lifted her head up in defiance. There was no weakness to be seen in her eyes. No fear. Just determination. And then the crowd went wild as they were finally visible. The roar was a deafening concussion that buffeted their bodies as the horses sped them down the cobblestone street.
Peeta finally saw in the monitors lining the streets just how stunning he looked. The cape fluttered in the breeze behind him and was slowly being devoured by the bright red flames that crept up the cape. Soon the fire would engulf the entirety of his black cape. Once it reached his collar he felt a light tingling sensation as the cool flames licked at his skin. Then the audience gasped in unison as the flames suddenly burst outward, devouring his body. Peeta's suit suddenly transformed to a burnt white with trails of flame leaping from every limb. A giant trail of flames was left in their wake, swirling and amassing from the fluttering cape, building in a giant fireball from which burst the giant image of a flying Mockingjay behind them. There was a second of silence as the brilliance of it stunned the audience lining the streets before they flew into frenzy, screaming and crying as they tossed anything available to them into the street. Flowers and jewels, gold watches and wigs, whatever they had available rained down upon them as they passed.
By the time they reached the city circle all eyes, even the other Tributes, where on him.
"I think that was an even bigger entrance than last year if possible," Prim muttered into her shoulder towards Peeta.
He wanted to cringe, but remained defiant in the face of all the cold and calculating eyes watching him. The icy blue ones that belonged to President Snow where the most fierce. He looked down upon Peeta from his perch on the balcony, ready to give his annual opening remarks with such foul hatred in his eyes that Peeta worried if he weren't already on fire he might just combust.
Once it was all over Peeta was practically a nervous wreck. It was an excruciating practice in patience as he waited for all the celebratory opening remarks to finish so he would finally be free to see Cato. And at the same time he was terrified of the possibility. It had been almost six months since they'd seen each other and then Cato just disappeared on him. And now Peeta was a cheater.
So once he was free to go and see him he found himself floundering. Prim hopped down from the carriage next to him with a wide-eyed look and windswept hair from the ride.
"Peeta, I—I saw Cato…" She trailed off at the pained look that flitted across Peeta's face.
"I know. I'm going over."
Cinna came with Portia to collect them, but he brushed past them towards the forward line of carriages where he knew Cato to be. He had to talk to him. He had to find out what happened between them and he had to tell the truth. It was the right thing to do. He might not know what he wanted with Gale (and honestly that wasn't even a factor anymore now that he was back in the Games with no chance of survival) but Cato deserved the truth from him. He deserved the chance to make that choice of whether he still wanted Peeta or not.
It felt like the longest walk of his life down that row of chariots. Each step like pulling his feet from the suctioned grasp of a deep field of mud. But when he finally got to Cato's chariot he wasn't there, which meant he was most likely looking for Peeta too. He scoured the large loading bay for Cato's large frame, but there were so many people, mostly Capitol attendants trying to corral everyone. As he passed by the elevators he felt the familiar sensation of being watched. The hairs on the back of his neck prickled and his brain buzzed in warning. He turned to look for the source when a woman dressed in bark and leafy branches swooped in front of him and pushed him inside the elevator. Just as it closed his eyes connected with a terrifyingly familiar pair of beetle-like eyes. Then they were severed from view as the gold-mirrored doors slid shut.
"Um, what the hell?" Peeta barked as the woman began to undress before him. He quickly averted his eyes towards the ceiling.
"What, scared of a little human anatomy?" The woman taunted in a playful voice. There was just the hint of steel around the edges. She moved in close and Peeta sucked in his chest, trying not to come in contact with her bare breasts. He had never seen a naked woman before and found he was more than uncomfortable.
"No, just not interested in a woman's."
A big smile spread across the woman's face as she ran a hand through her spiky brown hair.
"Mhh, yes I did hear something about that. Betrothed to another male tribute, Cato. Quite the catch. Such a shame. Anyways I thought I'd save you from the daggers being thrown your way by Asasia before one of them actually struck." She turned her back to him and bent over to fetch her costume from the floor giving Peeta an uninterrupted view of her round ass. She was tan all over and Peeta had the distinct image of her tanning nude on her front lawn, mindless to the scandalized stares of her neighbors.
She turned back around and held out a hand, which he took. Her grip was tight and fierce. "Name's Johanna."
"I'm—"
"Please, I know. Peeta." She waved him off apathetically. "Everyone knows."
Her bluntness somehow made the awkward situation even worse. He should have known who she was. He saw the games she won. She played meek and helpless until the very end when she suddenly turned to a ruthless assassin with the flip of a switch.
Finally they reached the seventh floor and the nude Johanna Mason disembarked the elevator, but not before turning around and giving one final devious wave to Peeta, her bare body fully exposed to him. He felt the flush of his cheeks as the elevator doors finally closed and then quickly carried him to the twelfth floor.
Peeta was the first one back, because of Johanna's intervention. He wondered who this Asasia was and wished for once that he had actually had access to cable on the train so he at least could have been informed on who all was reaped this year. It was a little terrifying not knowing what experienced Victors where his competition this year, especially with Prim's life in his hands. Thank god he spent the summer training with Gale.
Dinner was a somber affair and Prim barely ate her fill. He could tell she was just as disturbed as he was the first time by the overwhelming amount of wealth and luxury flaunted by the Capitol. But for Peeta he could barely fill his stomach because he was sick with guilt. Cato was just ten floors below him none the wiser that the man he asked to marry betrayed his love. He needed to see him. To get answers. To explain and maybe release some of the pain he was storing before it turned to a putrid acid that would eat away at the rest of his insides.
After dinner Peeta helped Prim fall asleep by singing to her again. He knew the exact moment she drifted off as the delicate hand that held his fell from his grip against the sheets, her muscles lax with fatigue. Peeta got up and quietly made his way to the elevator. His whole being bristled anticipation of finally seeing Cato.
The elevator doors parted with a static hum. Peeta stepped in and pressed for level two, but nothing happened. The doors remained open to the penthouse and the button remained unlit. He pressed it again. Still nothing. What the hell? Soon Peeta found his thumb jabbing the number repeatedly with growing aggression until—
"FUCK!" Peeta shouted and kicked the paneling of the elevator.
Of course it wouldn't work for him. It never did for Twelve.
Peeta took a deep and calming breath before he reached forward and pressed the button one above his. The roof access button lit up and the elevator lurched back to life. A sigh of relief escaped Peeta. He hoped Cato would be waiting for him in the secret garden where they found each other. Except then Peeta remembered the weight on his ring finger and what that meant.
"Please be up here," Peeta whispered as he entered the roof. City sounds burst to life all around him now that he was outside and it was disconcerting after having grown accustomed yet again to the slow and quiet life of district Twelve.
The roof itself was quiet and undisturbed. Peeta worked his way around the center dome toward the garden preparing himself to find it Cato-less. The tree's came into view first and he quickly noticed that they all lacked the white flower blossoms that were genetically engineered to bloom each day. Odd. Then his eyes fell to the lone bench and his heart skipped a beat at the blonde haired man sitting upon it.
Anxiously Peeta rushed forward with Cato's name on his lips. But it died before he had a chance to speak it as the man turned towards him and Peeta took full stock of the person seated on the bench. It was the man he had seen earlier at the opening ceremony with the trident and bared ass.
"Not who you were expecting? Hoping for Cato?" The man asked, his finely shaped eyebrow quirking up in question. It was deviously sexual and that's when he remembered it. Finnick was his name! He was extremely charming and handsome and one of the most popular contestants in recent memory. But he was also from Four. Peeta backed away cautiously, unsure of his intentions. Finnick's grin grew wider before he stood, popping a sugar cube in his mouth. His body was unreal, perfectly golden tan and built as if carved from marble by an artist with an exquisite eye.
"Sugar cube?"
He seemed innocent enough at the moment, if not overtly sexual. Peeta shook his head, declining the offer. He couldn't be sure it wasn't poisoned.
"Suit yourself." He withdrew the handful of sugar cubes and took a seat again on the bench, leaving room for Peeta.
"So do you talk, boy on fire? Or is that part of the whole mystique?" Finnick teased. His eyes were an enrapturing sea green. They demanded your attention and Peeta thought if he wasn't careful he just might give to him whatever he wanted for a chance to stare into those eyes. Peeta shook his mind clear. He couldn't get a grasp on this guy.
"I talk. To those I know."
"Well have a seat and get to know me. I don't bite, unless asked." Finnick bared all his white teeth in a blinding smile at that and Peeta rolled his eyes before deciding to take a seat. He had come up here hoping to find Cato, but he wasn't ready to head back into that prison below. He'd spent more than enough time in that penthouse.
"That's better, no need to be so stiff around me."
The way he said the word stiff made Peeta think of other things. His eyes strayed down Finnick's sculpted chest for a brief look at his package, loosely contained behind the tangled knots of rope and netting. Then he felt his neck heat uncomfortably as he knew he'd been caught. He refused to look back at Finnick's face so instead he looked outwards towards the trees and city lights. Finnick did that on purpose. Peeta could tell he used his sexuality as a weapon and now all those rumors about him didn't seem so fantastical anymore.
"It's okay to look, you know. It's not cheating." Finnick offered with a shrug, leaning back to allow for a better view of his fully exposed body.
Peeta's muscles clenched at the poor choice in wording and Finnick's bare shoulder brushed against his.
"Oh, did I hit a nerve? I can be pretty good at that, in more ways than one."
"You didn't hit anything. A swing and a miss I'd say." Peeta bit back, his anger slowly building to a boil in the pit of his stomach. This man knew nothing.
"Then tell me," Finnick spoke delicately. His voice was very soft and alluring, like honey. He was whispering into Peeta's left ear now and Peeta's right hand gripped the edge of the bench, his nails digging in the wood. "What are your secrets, boy on fire?"
Suddenly Peeta pushed off the bench and whipped around to face Finnick, his fingers were quaking with rage. How dare this man try to play him like that.
"My secrets aren't for sale, unlike you." Peeta spat angrily.
Then he turned and stormed back towards the elevator. Once inside the domed room he quickly hit the button to call the elevator, but it didn't come soon enough. The door opened behind him and Finnick sidled up beside him.
"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to antagonize you so much. I do feel bad, so how about a piece of advice. It's free, I promise."
Peeta looked at him from the corner of his eye, but remained silent. He was in no mood for more games. This was probably one of the worst days of his life as he slowly collapsed in silent agony from everything that had gone wrong in the past twenty-four hours.
"Tread lightly around my district partner. She has it out for you. I don't think she cares for the rules much, especially the one where you save it until the Arena."
Finnick watched Peeta for another few seconds. His ocean green eyes mapped the layout of Peeta's face with an intensity he couldn't quite decipher. Then he receded back out onto the roof leaving Peeta further flustered. Who was this chick and why did she have it out for him? He thought about that and more on the quick ride back to his penthouse. Like if Cato and he would ever have a moment together again before the games started and it was all too late. Could he actually protect Prim in the arena with such a huge target on his back? And what would become of Gale if he lost another—person (it was the best word he could think of)—to the Hunger Games?
Back in his room he closed the door and flicked the lights on only to find it go black again as a hand clasped over his eyes.
"WHAT THE—" Peeta shouted, about to throw back an elbow into his attackers stomach when the man whispered in his ear.
"Shh, babe, it's me."
The hand fell from Peeta's eyes and he swung around to face the man the voice belonged to, Cato. He looked upon Cato with disbelief. He was shell-shocked. His bedroom was the last place he expected to find Cato, but it shouldn't have surprised him.
"Sorry if I scared you, I just wanted to surprise you…" Cato said. His eyes shifted about the room and his face grew more anxious, like he was worried maybe he had made the wrong decision.
Peeta just stared at him. Drinking him in from head-to-toe. He didn't know what to think. It had been almost half a year since they'd seen each other in person last and now here he was and all Peeta wanted to do was scream at him. Why'd you abandon me? Why'd you stop calling? WHERE WERE YOU?
"Peeta? Please say something."
It was the tone of his voice that finally got through to Peeta. It was weak and scared and wholly unlike Cato. That's when he noticed what he had only gleaned at from a distance. Cato was skinnier, he still had muscles, but they were not as bulky as before and his eyes—his deep chocolate eyes were murky and worn down.
"I'm sorry, I was just overwhelmed. I—it's been months and I tried to get to you so many times today I think I had just given up on seeing you and then here you are!"
A tentative smile crept across Cato's face before he brought his hands up to cup Peeta's face. He just stared into Peeta's eyes, swimming in their depths and stroking his fingers over every smooth inch of skin his fingers could reach before he slowly leaned down for a kiss. Their lips had barely connected before Peeta jolted backwards as if shocked.
Fuck. He hadn't meant to do that. His body yearned for Cato's touch; even after his betrayal, even though he still wanted Gale. But his mind told him it wouldn't be right. He had to tell him. He was about to speak when Cato beat him to it.
"I know. I'm sorry. I shouldn't have tried that. You must be so angry with me." Cato's head bowed in shame.
It wasn't what he expected him to say at all and for a minute he lost track of his own thoughts as he tried to grasp what Cato could be talking about.
He moved to the bed and beckoned for Peeta to join him.
"I'll explain everything, just lie here with me?"
The desperate look on Cato's normally so confidant and strong face broke Peeta. What happened to his Cato potato? He got on the bed next to Cato and soon found their position readjusted so they were lying on their sides facing each other. Then Cato spoke.
"It's all my fault. I shouldn't have blamed you for hiding the truth from me. You were only trying to salvage the last of our time together and I pushed you away." Cato's hand reached out and found Peeta's. It was cold and dry like sandpaper. He traced each finger in his own before continuing. "After the tour the district turned on me. Some stopped taking my business while others vandalized my home. In the end, about a month before the Reaping Dreg rallied his supporters against you and I in the town square. They attacked me and took me captive."
Peeta gasped at this. How could the Capitol let something like this happen? Aren't the Victor's supposed to be protected? Cato's hand was now still in his and Peeta took in his face, recognizing a desperation there he had once seen reflected in himself, before he volunteered the first time.
"Oh god, Cato, I—I don't know what to say. How could this happen?"
He cleared his throat before continuing, rolling onto his back to face the ceiling. Peeta didn't want him to turn away, but with this new knowledge he had no idea how to handle the Cato before him.
"Dreg led the whole thing. As the Mayor's son he can get away with a lot and I'm sure the Capitol didn't care. This whole Quarter Quell is in response to what we did in the last games so I'm sure they would have supported it. They isolated and starved me for weeks until the Reaping where I was forced to volunteer. I would have anyways. Anything to never have to go back to that basement." Cato shivered and Peeta scooted closer, laying a tentative hand on his chest. When Cato didn't react adversely he pressed up against Cato's side and held him lightly.
"I thought I was going to die there. I wanted to. But then I would think of you. It was the only thing I could think of, how I would never get to tell you how much you meant to me. How I didn't blame you for anything. That I love you with all my heart. I hated myself for having left it on such a bad note with you. But then I made a promise to myself. That I would make it out of this, for you."
Suddenly Cato turned back on his side so he was facing Peeta again and his face was ablaze with a ferocity that Peeta hadn't seen since the last Hunger Games when Cato was fighting Stasson for their lives.
"You kept me sane. You were the only thing that kept me going, Peeta. The only thing." He repeated himself powerfully. The bed shook with the force of his words.
Then he reached for Peeta's hand and pulled it up to his mouth. He laid a delicate kiss atop the ring on Peeta's finger before holding it tightly between them and pulling Peeta in for a searing kiss. All the pain, all the anguish and misery they had both suffered over the course of their exile from each other was relinquished in that kiss in a burst of heat so strong that it felt like Peeta's lips might have been burned.
It was in that moment that he knew he could never tell Cato of what he had done. Peeta was the only thing that kept him going. If he found out it might just kill him—if the Quarter Quell didn't do so first.
So Cato's finally back! And we met Johanna and Finnick and had quite the entrance at the Opening Ceremonies. How about some reviews? They're my crack.
-Crobb07
ps- sorry for any mistakes. I only got to edit this once and I didnt want to keep you waiting so I didn't have time to send it to the wonderful matM97 to proof. Hopefully it wasn't too bad.
