We end our impromptu lunch and just sit around looking at the walls or in Cato's case reading something on that damn tablet while I was the idiot that stares at freaking walls.

"Doing some light reading are you?"

"What?" He was so focused on that damn thing he didn't even hear me.

"I asked if you were reading."

"I am."

"About me?"

"Yes, actually, I am. I have to say you are quite the interesting subject. Everything here is detailed to a fault."

"Don't trust everything you read."

"And why shouldn't I?"

"Because these people don't know a damn thing about me."

"Actually they seem to know a lot. Everything really."

"Believe whatever you want but just don't think for a second that just because you're reading that you'll know the first thing about me."

He doesn't talk anymore and neither do I. What more is there to say, really, nothing. Nothing at all. And I'm rambling. Great.

Two hours pass and still nothing, I can't believe I'm saying this but I'm bored, like actually out of my mind bored and Cato seems to be as entertained as he was two hours ago.

"I'm bored."

"So? What do you want me to do about it?" He takes his eyes off the tablet to look at me.

"I don't know, entertain me. Aren't you supposed to be my babysitter?"

"So what's it going to be Fire Girl? Babysitter or goon?"

"What, can't you multi-task?"

"Shut up and do something I don't have to entertain you."

"But you could."

"But I don't want to."

"Why?"

"Because I don't care."

"Can you at least give me a book?"

He sighs exasperated. Tough luck buddy.

He goes out the room and comes back ten minutes later with a book.

"God what took you so long?"

"Shut up and take the damn book." He opens the cage and hands it to me then locks it again and goes back to his chair picking up the tablet one more.

I turn the book over in my hands reading the title 'Peter Pan' by J.

God I love this book. Not loved but love. This book has been one of my favorites since I was a little girl and could barely read. The cover of the book is very much warn just like my own and for a second a thought crosses my mind that maybe this is my book but it couldn't be. I had left it in Division and I'm sure Alma wouldn't keep something like this, right?

I had to make sure, so I went to the first blank page and right there for all to see was the black script my father had written had those years ago.

'To my brave little girl. The only one I know that instead of wanting to be Wendy wanted to be either a Lost Girl or a pirate so that she could have all the fun. Neverland awaits Katniss'

A single tear runs down my cheek remembering the times when my father would read this to me as a child and would play with me when I pretended to be a Lost Girl fighting a pirate.

I'm a true Lost Girl now.

"Are you okay?"

I look up to see two concerned blue eyes trained directly on my own.

"I'm fine, but anyway, it's not like you care right?"

"I'm serious."

"I'm fine goon."

"Look it's about time to meet Clove again. Do you want to get going?"

"Sure. Got nothing better to do anyway." I get up and walk to my door which he unlocks and leads me out of the room to meet Clove for a second time today.

As I get to the training center I can't help but go to the punching bag and as I'm getting reading to give a punch Cato's voice comes from behind me.

"You should wrap your hands. Wouldn't want to go to the infirmary again because you were careless."

I turn around to see him close, far too close, holding hand wraps.

"Thanks." I take them from him and turn away wrapping my hands in silence and when they are done the punching begins.

Just like last time the only thing that could be heard around the room was the resonating of my punches on the bag. My punches started getting heavier, me hitting the bag with more force every time which made my hands throb until a cool hand stopped them.

Surprise, surprise, it was Cato.

"What now? I'm not bleeding all over the place am I?"

I won't admit that his cold hand his soothing on my fists.

"No, but Clove's here. I thought you'd actually want to give her the lessons you talked about." I scowl at him and turn away to face Clove with a slight smile on my face.

"Hey Clover. Sorry about that, didn't hear you coming."

"It's okay. Are you sure you're okay?"

"I'm fine. I've had worse anyway."

"That isn't very soothing."

"Do you want to train or do you want to talk?"

"Train but-"

"No buts. Lets train."

We spend two hours training. Knives, hand-to-hand combat, the normal until I deemed Clove fit enough to go to bed, a thing for which she thanked me, saying she hadn't had a day this tiring in ages.

While she was concerned about sleeping I was concerned about avoiding talking to Cato for as long as possible. I allowed him to see me vulnerable and that is going to come back to bite me in the ass.

It always does.