Chapter 5

Previously on The Hunger:

There are two reasons why he might be feeling such a way. The first being his feelings for Cato, because he's sure that there's a connection there. Peeta's through with trying to push it away; he's sick of hiding form himself. The one thin g that he's sure of is his steadily growing emotions for Cato, although the blonde would deny it if ever this belief were spoken aloud. The second reason he might feel the warmth crawling through the mask of ice, is that some part of him, way deep down, enjoyed murdering that girl.

Now that's a scary thought.

-x-x-x-x-

"Lights out, guys." Cato chuckles, a slow smirk dancing across his lips. Everyone's feeling pretty good tonight, exuberant. But still, the Games are far from over, and he needs his team in top shape. Nobody gets much killing done with sleep deprivation biting into their minds.

Some people don't see the genius in forming an alliance. Some people think you're just setting yourself up for pain by losing those you've grown to care for. Cato sees no problem in it, so long as you learn how to control your emotions. Cato's never cared for anybody more than he's cared for the Games. He's never loved anybody enough to sacrifice his glory. There's never been anyone to steal his heart enough to make him give in to the call of, well, defeat. Because despite popular belief, Cato often does want to give in. Sometimes he just wants to be a normal kid, doing normal things. Not a monster trained to kill and survive, nothing more. Then he thinks of the image of his mother's face the day she died, the way her eyes bore into his skull. He thinks of how she was ashamed of whom he was, the scrawny disgrace of two champions. He imagines her looking down on him with pride in her eyes, he sees himself walking towards his father as a champion, all of Panem cheering his name.

Then he pushes himself further.

Cato shakes his head, forcing his grin from earlier to return to his pale lips. It's just a Game; it's all just a Game. Cato flexes his shoulders as he glances around the meadow, shaking his thoughts from his mind. Career members are placed strategically around the clearing, in such a way that if anybody were to set off their bombs no one would be permanently injured. He also made sure that if there were any noises around the clearing at least someone would be able to hear it and react. With the exceptions of Peeta and the boy from district 3 who Cato could not for the life of him remember his name, the Careers have been trained form an early age to awake to even the slightest of sounds.

Once satisfied that their strategy is sound, Cato wanders towards his sleeping bag, the one by Peeta's. Clove had protested at first when Cato brought up the idea, and then Glimmer had heard and protested even harder, but he eventually won them over. 'If he is here to stab us all in the backs, I'm the one responsible. I'm also the only person who might have a chance of stopping him. Don't glare at me like that, Clove, you know you don't have the muscle. Just trust me on this; I have to be next to him.' Oh course Cato hadn't given his true reasoning as to why he wanted to sleep beside the other boy. He couldn't risk either of the jealous girls killing the boy he hadn't had the pleasure of sweating over yet. He was still determined to have Peeta, no matter how much the other boy was convinced he was in love with that weed.

"Who's got the first shift?" Cato hears a sleepy yet alert voice call out. Clove glances up at him, her eyes flashing like onyx in the moonlight. Cato glances over, barely hesitating in his steps as he gets closer to the other blonde boy.

"I will." Cato replies. They had already agreed that they would take shifts in sleeping back at the training camp. The Careers had been an alliance long before the Games had even started. They were always going to work together until everyone apart from them were dead. Then they would split up and kill those who they had spent so much time and effort to save. To most people it would be a sick idea, but to the Careers it made sense. Everyone already knew that they were going to be the last in the Games, why prolong it? They would kill everyone else quicker together and that means less chance of starvation or dehydration when their supplies run out.

"I'll be next." Glimmer replies suddenly from her spot on the other side of the clearing, closer to Marvel. Cato can hear the eagerness in her voice, the need to please. Cato's seen her fight; he knows the girl is fierce. So why is it that she acts so… High school when she's not fighting? It's one of those questions Cato will never know the answer to, because asking would mean getting close to her. Getting close to people is not a good idea for a blood thirsty killing monster. No, he's much rather be an acquaintance than a friend. Friends involve emotion, time and effort, three things that Cato happens to lack.

"Fine. Now get to sleep. I'll wake you up in roughly three hours. Clove will be next." And with that, all fell silent. Cato reached his sleeping bag, crouching down to the floor before slinking in. He was glad for once that his mind was such a haunted place, something that will keep him up for three hours while he takes his shift. Cato hasn't been able to get any more than four hours of sleep a night for as long as he can remember.

The world is silent for an hour until Cato notices a stirring close by. Turning his body slightly, he glances down to where Peeta's body lays, tumbling in his sleep. Blonde hair is stuck to the boy's forehead, slicked down with sweat. His expression contorts with discomfort and something else that Cato wouldn't be able to name. Wonder wells in the pit of his stomach, a strong need to know what it is Peeta's dreaming of biting into him. A pained moan rips itself from Peeta's gently opened lips, causing ripples to dance along Cato's skin. Not wanting to do something he'll regret, Cato reaches out and presses his fingers against Peeta's bare shoulder firmly, shaking slightly so the boy will awake. Peeta's eyes open wide the moment Cato initiates the skin-to-skin contact. Peeta's eyes bore into Cato's, lit up and illuminated by moonlight. It appears like his eyes are glowing, two orbs of ocean floating in space.

A soft sigh tumbles from Peeta's lips as the boy sits up. It's only then that Cato realises his hand is still on Peeta's shoulder. Reluctantly but immediately Cato rips his slightly curled fingers from the other boy's skin. This action seems to wake the other boy up properly and he shuffles away awkwardly, causing an undeniable disappointed lump to form in the pit of Cato's stomach.

"I, uhh, sorry." Peeta murmurs, ducking his eyes away from the taller boy's body. Cato can't help the small smile that forms on his lips in reaction to Peeta's obvious embarrassment.

"You seemed to be having a bad dream." Cato responds, as if waking up his enemies from a bad dream is something he always does.

"You could say that." Peeta shrugs, a faint blush burning into his cheeks. Cato feels his chest swell with a feeling he doesn't recognise.

"You 'wanna talk?" Cato murmurs, true concern flittering into his words. Peeta glances at him, arching a sceptical eyebrow. But apparently he sees sincerity in Cato's eyes.

"Yeah. I don't think I'll be able to get to sleep any time soon, so I might as well have something to do." He sighs, leaning back onto his sleeping bag. His eyes shut slightly, light reflecting onto his eyelids making them appear lavender in the moonlight. Cato is scared for a moment that he's gone to sleep, but within seconds his lips are open and he's speaking again.

"I know it'll sound weak to you, but I'm terrified. I'm terrified of losing, of dying. And I'm also terrified of what might happen if by some chance I seem to win. What world would I go back into? How much of myself would I have lost by then? I've heard that killing people kills off a piece of the soul. How many kills would I have eating away at my soul if I made my way home?" A crease crawls into the space between Peeta's eyebrows as he opens his eyes, letting them fall onto Cato's astounded face. "I can't believe I just told you all that." Peeta murmurs, his lips twisting into a faintly embarrassed smile. Cato chuckles under his breath, shaking his head faintly.

"I can't believe you did either. But I'm glad you did. I'm glad you feel as if you can. I just wish I could guarantee it's a good idea." He sighs, lying down beside the other boy without thinking. He feels more at peace than he has for years. Being with Peeta makes him feel different to how he's ever felt before in his life. It makes him feel like he could say anything, and no one would judge him for it. He could talk about how much he detests his father and Peeta would just listen. It's a nice feeling, though it makes Cato feel wary. It's not the kind of thing he can trust. Whenever there's someone out there who he thinks is willing to listen they turn out to be the least trustworthy person he could have chosen. It's easier to just seclude himself from the world. But Cato finds that he can't simply draw himself away from Peeta. Ever since he first saw him he's been magnetised to the boy. There's something attractive about being with Peeta, not just his body but the boy underneath the pretty face. It almost hurts Cato just to look at him now, to feel so close to someone who he knows he'll never truly have. Because even if he could somehow convince Peeta to be his, even if they somehow got out of the arena together, Cato is certain that Peeta's heart will always belong to the Girl on Fire.

Peeta chuckles faintly, drawing Cato from his thoughts. A gentle blush begins to grow at his cheeks, twin embers of embarrassment. He feels a momentary pang of hatred in his chest. Cato does not blush. It's just not something he's ever done, and he refuses to let one person change that fact.

"I don't know. I think you're a lot better than you pretend to be, Cato." Peeta's lips are twisted into a gentle smile that makes Cato heart race. Peeta turns his head, the two boys looking each other in the eye as they lay beside each other. There's something extremely intimate about the moment, something that leaves Cato's stomach flopping awkwardly in a pit at his mid riff, but it's not necessarily a bad feeling; just unusual. He can't keep his eyes from the perfect Cupid's bow that forms Peeta's lips. His eyes trace the shape involuntarily and he longs to touch his skin again, to feel his own sizzle with electricity that only seems to come from Peeta's skin. The silence stretches out for a long time, but it lays a comfortable blanket over the two boys. The moment could last forever and not only would Cato not notice but he wouldn't care.

"I know you don't want to be the good guy," Peeta whispers, his eyes refusing to drop from Cato's despite the gentle tone. "But you'd make a good one. I think you wear a mask, trying to fool everyone with your superiority." Cato smirks, the deepness of their conversation becoming almost uncomfortable.

"You don't think I'm superior? I'm offended." He jokes weakly, his expression meek. Peeta simply smiles, almost sadly, and glances away from him.

"I think you're many things, Cato, but I wouldn't use the word 'superior' to describe anyone. In my eyes it's an arrogant term: offensive." Cato swallows hard with his heart pounding in his throat. His skin feels tingly with a feeling he doesn't think has to do with the cold.

"How would you describe me, then?" He asks, his voice softer than he would have thought possible. He knows that when Peeta turns to look at him he sees vulnerability, an emotion he usually refuses to show anyone. Cato knows that Peeta sees the little boy who lost his mother all those years ago. He knows Peeta can see the boy desperate to please his near-monster of a father. If the idea didn't terrify him so much, he would swear that Peeta could see how he felt about him, just by looking in his eyes.

The final thing that Cato was sure of is that Peeta didn't care who he saw in his eyes. Cato could be a blood sucking monster and Peeta would still listen to him. Peeta would still care. Not for the fact that he has feelings for Cato, the taller boy won't even let himself dream of that, but because Peeta is a good guy. Peeta cares about people simply because he's human, and that's the human thing to do. He's been raised to be a good person, to make the most from his misfortune. He's been taught to care for and help people no matter how messed up they are.

That's why Cato can feel himself falling for Peeta, no matter how much he wishes he could ignore it.

"You're scared." Peeta whispers in return. Cato winces, hating to hear the truth said aloud. "You're terrified of failing, though you'd never admit it to anyone. Success is your thing. If you don't have that you don't have anything.

"You're smart: smarter than you'd ever let anyone see. And you care about people, no matter how much you wish you didn't. You don't want me here; you don't want me being a Career. I'm not sure why, but I'm sure you have good reasoning. You're scared of getting close to people, scared that they'll reject you once they know who you really are." Peeta smiles faintly, raising his eyes to touch the blues of Cato's. "I think you fall in love easily, but you're afraid of showing it. Love is your weakness. Weakness scares you. And then we get back to the fear." He chuckles quietly, turning to lie on his back.

"Good night, Cato." He whispers, leaving the other blonde dumbfounded. His jaw is slack as he watches Peeta's outline, the boy's body slowly falling into the recess of sleep. No one, no one, has ever talked to him. No one has ever stripped his shell away, left him trembling from the harsh reality of the world. Especially no one that's only known him for all of a week. Peeta's hardly ever had a conversation with him before but he's already observed enough to know who he really is.

The thought is terrifying, knowing that someone can see through the shield he's always kept up. But a small piece of him is glad; glad that Peeta knows who he is. Because for Peeta he wants to be better; he wants to be good.

It started out with him wanting the boy's body, lusting over him in the recess of his mind where he thought nobody would ever find his thoughts. He had planned to kill the boy afterwards, to shove the memory to the back of his skull. But Cato knows he can't do that now. Because he doesn't just want Peeta's shell, he wants the man underneath. He wants to be able to call him his.

Most of all though he wants Peeta to want him. He knows now that he won't force Peeta to be with him, it would cause him to much pain to see anyone, even himself, forcing Peeta into something he doesn't want.

Considering the fact that he was supposed to end the night high with blood lust and the satisfaction of murder, Cato feels hollow inside. He's done the one thing he never wanted to; he's fallen in love.

With a man he'll now have to kill.

-x-x-x-x-

AN: I seriously didn't want to end that chapter. Hence I apologise for how shitty the ending is. I just… I don't think I really gave it much justice. I know Cato's a bit OOC in this chapter, and he probably will be from now on. There really isn't a good way to portray Cato in love, so these next chapters he won't really be the same Cato that we all know anymore. There'll be flashes of him, but he'll mainly be different.

I apologise for my bad portrayals. Please review and fav. The more reviews I get the more inspiration I have to keep writing