A/N: Please, I beg for your forgiveness. College decisions got in the way, but now that's done. I should be studying for APs right now, but instead I felt like I owed it to all my lovely reviewers to finally update :) Please don't kill me.

Thoughts, opinions, anything- Please review! I write because I love to, but you have no idea what these reviews mean to me.

Chapter 12

"Cato," I pant, "stop." He ignores me, like he always does, and I wiggle hard from under him. Of course, he takes that as encouragement and his hand brushes against my underwear. I gasp in unfamiliar pleasure but continue to struggle against him. "Cato," I grit out, "get off me." Finally, I rally all my strength and shove him off me.

He nearly falls off the bed but catches himself at the last moment. "What," he gasps, "is your problem?"

I feel my face flush. "I'm just not in the mood, okay?" I roll over onto my side and burrow my face into the pillow.

Cato settles himself next to me but doesn't try to touch me. "Really?" his voice is skeptical, but I can also hear the underlying current of hurt in it. "Clo, tell the truth," he demands.

I feel guilty and roll over to face him. His eyes, unexpectedly close, assault me. Fuck. I can't keep anything from him, can I? "Well," I hesitate. "I want to, but…" The embarrassment of admitting my own inexperience is daunting, and I choose to avoid it for as long as possible by trailing off.

"But what?" Cato is relentless. Feeling my reluctance to talk, he begins to fiddle with the ends of my hair.

The darkness of the bedroom seems like the best place to come clean- I can't see anything, and that somehow feels less intimidating. "I just…"

His blue blue eyes patiently wait for me to talk, and I blurt out, "I just haven't done any of this before, okay?"

Cato's fingers stop twirling my hair. "What do you mean?" he asks incredulously. "You mean you haven't done…. anything before?" He lets out an amazed laugh.

Humiliated, I turn away from him again and fling the covers over me. I engulf myself in the sheets, sealing the openings and somehow ending up in the fetal position. Great, I think as Cato tries to untangle me, now you seem even more immature. "Go away," I snap. "Leave me alone."

Cato continues to unravel me, but I only cling to the sheets more fiercely. Furiously, I realize he's chuckling. "Stop laughing at me, asshole!" I screech. He eventually stops trying to yank the blankets away from me. Instead, Cato's hands pull me into his lap, and he gently unfolds me from the blanket.

I grimace as I emerge from my hiding place. I'm sure my hair looks like a mess, and I just acted like a five-year old. The whole situation is embarrassing for me. I try to escape one last time, but Cato keeps a firm grip on me. He forces me to wrap my legs around his waist, so we're looking right at each other, eye to eye.

"Stop laughing," I mutter uselessly as he grins broadly at me with a curious look in his eye.

"You're just so goddamn adorable."

I am not adorable- I am a killer. Cato is an idiot, and a horny one at that. I can feel him pressing into me, not uncomfortably. I try my best not to melt into him as he absentmindedly traces soft circles on the exposed skin at my hip. I glare at him, and he tries unsuccessfully to stop chortling. He continues to chuckle intermittently though. "What," I growl, "is so funny?"

"After all this time, someone like you can still be untouched and pure," he replies. "It's unbelievable."

"Someone like you," I repeat caustically. "What could you possibly mean by that, asshole?"

"Someone as beautiful as you," he answers, and I snort disbelievingly. "I mean it," he says, running his warm, rough hands appreciatively over my curves, taking his time over my chest and my ass. "I thought for sure you'd be…. experienced."

"How?" I ask pointedly, trying to keep the self-consciousness out of my voice.

Cato shakes his head and turns my head to look at the large mirror across the room. I see the two of us reflected back. "You're so beautiful, Clove. You could get any guy you want." I focus on my features and see what he is saying. I follow his hand as he traces my features. "To me, you're the most beautiful girl in the world," he whispers as he traces my fine eyebrows, my sharp cheekbones, and my pouted lips. He takes a firm grip on my pointed chin and kisses me roughly. "Don't you ever forget it," he continues, he brushes against my trembling chest, my flat, toned stomach, and my rounded bottom. "You know you're gorgeous, right Princess? You have to know that."

And in that moment, I believe him. I do have a pretty good body from years of training and I do like my facial features. Hell, even my ruffled hair looks sultrily mussed in this lighting. I smile softly and take his bottom lip between my teeth teasingly before kissing him forcefully.

After a few heated moments, I wrap my arms tightly around his neck and press myself up against him even more if possible. Cato runs his hands up my smooth thighs, "So damn gorgeous …so fucking hot," he gasps. "How can you still be a virgin?" he asks curiously, his eyes reflecting a wolf-like hunger. "It just doesn't seem possible."

I laugh shortly, "Do you even remember what I was like back in training?" I was a short-tempered, misanthropic harpy of a girl. It was a miracle Cato even befriended me, never mind fell for me.

"I saw through that terrifying exterior," he murmured whilst pulling me closer to him by the waist. He manipulates me so easily in his arms that I feel like a fragile doll. It's a strange experience, but I trust him. "I always thought that you were something special."

"And do you still think so?" I interrupt.

He buries his hand into my hair, "Now I know it." I kiss the soft skin by his jaw softly. He continues with a hint of a smile, "And I can't believe that you're a virgin." I groan, he's still going on about that. "You're completely mine," he muses, wrapping a possessive arm around my backside. "All mine."

In turn, I tug his short hair slightly. "Unless you screw it up," I remind him sweetly yet dangerously- but deep down, I don't think I could ever bring myself to leave Cato. I place a lingering, wet open-mouth kiss on his broad shoulder, and he shudders. "Not now okay?" I ask, "When I'm ready, you'll be the first to know."

He chuckles as he strokes my back intimately, "I'd hope so."

.

The next morning, Cato and I are eating breakfast in companionable silence. Suddenly, there's a knock on the door. I'm not expecting guests, so I throw Cato a questioning look. He shrugs and continues to shovel bacon into his mouth.

I sigh and get up to see who could possibly be at the door. The intruder impatiently rings the doorbell just as I am about to open the door- only one person I know can be so irritatingly persistent.

"Hello Tara," I drawl lazily after opening the door. Before she can say a word, I turn back to the kitchen and assume that she will just invite herself in.

She does, following me to the marble table. "Good morning to you too, sunshine," she quips snarkily. She stops suddenly as she notices Cato, "Oh, hi Cato."

He looks up from his nearly empty plate, "Morning." He begins to clear up his place at the table like I have trained him to. There had been several very detailed threats made previously by me if he left his shit for me to clean up. Once he's moved his plate to the sink, he turns to go. "Bye Tara," he calls. Cato catches my eye, "See you later, Clo?"

I try to play it cool in front of Tara. "Okay," I say casually without even getting up to see him out. "Later."

Cato gives me a disparaging but knowing look and promptly leaves. I continue to twirl the butter knife in my hand as I eat some cereal casually. Please don't bring it up please don't bring it up please-

"-So." Tara begins with a mischievous smirk. "You and Cato."

"What about me and Cato?" I shoot back bluntly.

"He was over here pretty early…"

"Was he?" I am determined to keep my end of the conversation as short as possible.

"Yes." Tara taps her chin in mock-thought. "Maybe he….. stayed over the night?"

"Or maybe you need to mind your own damn business?" I will my face to not turn red. There's no doubt that Tara is more experienced with boys than I. I just hope that she never figures that out- but at the same time, I don't want her to know about me and Cato. The more people know, the more pressure there is for this ….. relationship.

I would be more than happy to stay in an impenetrable cocoon with Cato forever, away from everyone else's eyes.

"Spill Clove!" Tara squeals. It's times like these when I really see how different Tara and I are. "Is he good in bed? I bet he is." Her grin widens, "Cato's a pretty big guy- how sore are you in the morning?"

"Tara!" I yelp. "I am not talking about this with you." She pouts, but I am steadfast. "Besides, me and Cato's relationship is just for the Capitol's benefit." It's a weak attempt on my part to get her to butt out.

She scoffs, snatches an apple from a nearby fruit bowl, and takes a large, obnoxious bite out of it. "Please," she says crunching. "No one believes that anymore."

"Excuse me?" I raise a brow, encouraging her to elaborate.

"Don't expect me to fall for that anymore- I'm not an idiot."

"Well…" I tease.

Tara interrupts. "You and Cato are not faking for the Capitol and you haven't been for a long time. Anyone with eyes can see that."

I sputter indignantly, somehow offended. On one hand, that means that the Capitol will lay off on the both of us. But on the other, that means that people think that I'm in love with Cato. I don't know which one is worse honestly. "Just- just butt out Tara."

But she continues anyways. "He's completely infatuated with you-god knows why- and I can tell that you're crazy about him. Just make sure… just make sure he knows too, okay? He makes you happy, Clovie, and I don't want you to push him away, okay?" She ends quietly and looks hard at me.

I avoid her gaze uncomfortably. "I…. I've gotta go to training," I murmur foolishly. "Help yourself to the kitchen." With that, I sprint out of the house and leave a disappointed Tara in my wake.

.

As I commute to the Training Center, I mull over Tara's words. Are my feelings really that obvious? I was trained to be emotionless, a blank slate- how could my silly sister see straight through me?

I wonder if everyone can see through us like Tara. If that's the case, Cato and I are the only ones who haven't come to terms with our relationship. We pretend and act and ignore the truth most of the time- it's only at night when our true feelings emerge. When it's truly just the two of us.

But the next morning, like clockwork, we revert to our callous, closed-off selves- scared of being honest with one another. I had rationalized that we were trying to save face in front of our families- but it's more than that.

I can't bring myself to love Cato like I really want to. There have been times when I just want to tell him that I love him, that I just want to stay by his side forever, that his very presence brings my world into sharper colors. But every time, I don't.

For fear of rejection. Or of baring my true self to him and of him deciding that I'm not what he really wants. Or maybe of the possibility of being happy. I don't know which.

.

"You are all too inexperienced for those daggers," I snap. "So stop asking for them- you'll only castrate yourselves." I'm berating my class for pestering me for sharper knives. None of them are old enough to handle them. I choose not to mention that I'd been throwing those particular knives by the time I was nine.

What can I say- I was a prodigy.

"Okay," I sigh. "You can all leave now. See you next class."

They all drift out to the locker rooms, mumbling conspiratorially to each other. Some sneak a look back to me over their shoulders, only to find me fixing them all with a steely glare. "You're a good teacher," a voice behind me sarcastically comments.

I turn to face Cato's broad chest and tip my back to look him in the face. "Shut up," I chirp before standing on my tiptoes and pressing a kiss to his lips. As I do it, I realize how ridiculous my actions are. I'm not the kind of girl who greets her boyfriend with a kiss.

Tara's words must be getting to me.

Obviously Cato thinks the same because once I pull away, his handsome face is twisted with confusion. "What's gotten into you?"

I flush and look away. "I'm just hungry, okay? Don't pretend you didn't like it," I retort self-consciously. "What are you doing here anyways?"

"Just dropping off some more weapons…. but I brought you some food!" He whips out some of my favorite granola bars from behind him. "Now you can kiss me if you want."

I smile widely, and when I look back up at him- he has the most affectionate look on his face as he watches me, I almost blush. Instead, I crane my neck up to kiss him briefly again. "Yes," I celebrate as I snatch the bars from him greedily. I unwrap one feverishly and moan between bites, "Oh my god, I love you."

Realizing my slip-up, I freeze mid-bite. I slowly raise my eyes up to meet Cato's. Unfortunately, he caught my casual proclamation. A slow smirk spreads onto his face, more teasing than happy. "Do you now, Princess?" His eyes turn a molten, deep blue as he gazes down on me.

"I….. I…." My face flushes hotly. Do I? My first instinct is to deny. Deny it vehemently. But… don't I? Cato is the person I care about most in the world- somehow. For some reason that I do not know. My thoughts gravitate to him automatically unless I stop myself. I apparently can't keep my lips off him. He is the only one who can soothe me to sleep. But how much of this is just teenage hormones? How long can this entanglement of ours continue?

What happens when the Capitol forgets about us, and we're free to do as we please? Will we move on? I don't know if I can bring myself to put so much of myself into something I'm not even sure is built to last.

But at the same time, I can't help but hope that Cato stays with me forever. I don't want to imagine a day where I don't get to see his crooked grin or have his solid shoulder to lean on. Gee Clove, that sounds a lot like love to me.

So why can't I say it?

"It's okay, Princess," he whispers huskily, wiping a crumb off my bottom lip with his thumb. I startle at his casual yet sensual touch. "We both know you can't get enough of me." And then he pulls away, leaving me red-faced and stuttering like an idiot. He laughs, "What is with you today? First you kiss me willingly, and then you say you lov-"

I storm off to get my bag, not even bothering to argue with him. I am furious at him for teasing me about an honest mistake, for not saying it back, for putting me in this predicament in general by being so damn attractive. I stuff my things into my duffel, still eating the granola bar. Cato comes up behind me and tries to carry the bag for me.

"I've got it," I hiss. Most girls would swoon over the act, but I only get offended for the implication that I can't take care of myself. Cato holds up his hands in mock-surrender, but that affectionate look makes a reappearance on his face. I have to turn away before I say something I regret. Again.

We barely make it two steps before Cole accosts us. He's been awfully quiet in class since we had that talk a few weeks ago. "Wait…. wait Clove!" he hollers. He skids to a stop before me and Cato.

"Yeah?" I ask impatiently. The granola bars barely made a dent in the growing hunger in my stomach.

Cole shoots Cato a wary look. "Can I talk to you…. in private?" Cato, hearing this, shoots me a look that clearly says seriously? -but nevertheless he goes to wait in the lobby. Probably to admire his trophies for the umpteenth time.

I turn to face Cole. "Okay, what's up?"

He looks away sheepishly. "I've been thinking really hard about what you told me… about being different, taking the sponsors by surprise." I nod. "I think I've come up with something… it involves a shield."

The thought is intriguing. District 2 tributes are always on the offensive. Surely a Career tribute playing defense would gain some interest. But then I think about it. Not having a go-to weapon would make it hard to eliminate tributes. And lugging around a heavy shield constantly would not be wise. A tribute would have to be extremely clever to win with a shield- strategic and always two steps ahead of their competitors. "I don't know Cole…"

"Look, I know there is some tweaks I need to work out…. like the weight versus sturdiness…."

Cato was talking about how he wanted to move onto something besides swords for his hobby. "I think Cato could help with that," I offer. We both peer over at Cato, who is indeed staring at the trophy collection in the lobby.

"I don't know… he scares me," he admits.

"What, and I don't?" I ask, somewhat annoyed. Cato's size automatically earns him respect, while I always had to work to intimidate people. Maybe it's just me, but I frankly don't see anything scary about Cato at all.

Cole looks embarrassed. "Well you're pretty….. it's different."

-Did he just call me pretty? What has gotten into everybody today?

"See ya, Clove!" Cole bolts for the side door, wisely fleeing before I figure out what to do. I shrug and head towards Cato.

I nudge him out of his stupor, "We can leave now."

Cato looks around to see that Cole has already left. "Who was that kid anyways? He looked familiar."

"He's one of the kids in my 10-11 class," I pause. "I think he had an older brother in your training group. Last name Aldridge?"

"Ah," he smirks. "Yeah, his brother Grant was in my group. Couldn't cut it though. He's probably a peacekeeper somewhere now."

I nod. Most of the trainees end up as peacekeepers because they aren't deemed good enough for the Games. This usually happens around the age of 15, so that Careers can get more specialized training. The competition is fierce, because every kid growing up in District 2 wants to become a Victor.

But most of them end up dead.

I shudder at the thought. Sometimes if I'm not careful, my mind wanders to close to the Games, and then I can't help but get dragged into my self-destructive thoughts. Cato thankfully distracts me by pointing out something in the trophy case. "Look, I think that's him right there."

Sure enough, I see a boy with very similar features to Cole in the trainee picture. I look more carefully and I see Cato a few seats down. He's dressed in the familiar training outfit but looks somehow so different. This picture was taken two years ago, but it feels like a completely different world. Two years ago, Cato was my training partner and nothing else. "And there's you."

"Let's find you," he drags me down a little further. "Aw, so cute." I see my 15-year old self staring back at me.

"I hardly look cute," I protest. I looked pissed, as usual.

Suddenly, he's much closer. "You looked hot." I turn around only to be pinned to the glass of the trophy case by Cato's insistent body. He leers over me, lips hovering just over mine teasingly. His hips are pressed so tight to my own that I can't think straight.

"I knew there was a reason you brought me food," I barely get out. Desire runs through me like electrical shocks, and I grab the back of his neck and pull him down for a long kiss. But then, I think of a better idea. "C'mon, I forgot to put back my training vest." I break free of his grip and tug him toward one of the training rooms.

He groans in frustration, and I have to fight to keep a smile off my face. I flick on some lights in the empty room and go to hang up my training vest. "You know, Cato," I call over my shoulder and add a subtle sway to my hips. "It's late. There's no one in the Training Center by now. We could do whatever we want." I glance back at him to see if he gets what I'm saying.

Maybe I can't say what I want to say to Cato, but I sure can show him. When Cato opens his mouth to respond, I pounce on him, literally knocking him off his feet. Thankfully, the training room's floor is padded for sparring.

"Clove," he murmurs in between kisses. "What has gotten into you?"

I simply giggle and buck my hips into his. Cato's hand burns a path down my body, coming to a rest on my ass once again.

"Your ass," he breathes. "Is perfect." He tugs off my shorts urgently, and when he squeezes my ass hungrily, I gasp. Cato takes that opportunity to roughly stroke my tongue with his own. Jesus, he's good at this. I struggle to keep up, wrapping my arms around his neck tightly and kissing back fervently. My legs fall open to straddle him, and I begin to rock against his growing erection. The friction feels like heaven against me.

Cato rolls over so that he's hovering over me. "Someone's getting impatient," he teases in a sing-song voice. I growl at him, getting hot and bothered just from the sound of his voice. "I'm going to try something new now, okay?"

Right now, I would let him do anything to me. I nod eagerly, barely noticing Cato pulling my damp underwear off until-

"Oh," I gasp helplessly as his rough fingers begin to trace my opening. I can't breathe, I've never felt anything so good. I open my legs wider, "Cato, more," I beg shamelessly.

Cato obediently begins to dip his finger into me. "Shit, you're so wet for me, Clove," he coos. I squirm under his grip. Without warning, he plunges one finger into me completely.

"Cato!" I squeak. He silences me with a kiss. I pull him closer so that I can start to kiss his neck. I suck and bite at his neck while he begins to thrust his finger into me relentlessly. I buck my hips to the set rhythm, toes curling in pleasure. Just as I begin to work on leaving a hickey, he adds another finger into the mix, stretching my opening out more.

Now, I can't even think straight. As he relentlessly strokes me, I begin to get dizzy. "Oh, Cato…." I trail off, panting.

"Does this feel good, Princess?" he grunts. "Do I make you feel good?"

I let out a long, drawn out moan. "Yes." I whisper. "You make me feel good. So good." But suddenly, he stops. I sit up slightly in confusion. "Cato?" I whimper pathetically.

He grins down at me, so handsome it hurts. "Beg for it." Evil. I would normally refuse, but I can't even reason with myself right now.

I don't even know what I'm asking for right now, but I need him. I shamelessly beg, "Please." I grind out in frustration, "I want you. I need you." I glare, "Now." When nothing happens, I being to restlessly and squeeze my eyes shut in frustration. "If you ever want to see me naked, you better-"

I am cut off by the feeling of his tongue right there. "Oh," I sigh again. "Mmmm, Cato. Don't stop." He carefully swirls his tongue around, brushing against a bundle of nerves that makes me blush. At first, he licks and sucks at a steady rhythm, but just as I am about to reach a peak- I can feel my breath getting more and more labored- he slows down painfully.

"Cato," I beg again. "Cato, more, faster." All sense of dignity is lost, "Cato, uh, please," I sob helplessly, my back arching away from the floor. I grab the back of his head and grind myself into his mouth. His tongue is so warm… and just as I cry in frustration, Cato picks up the pace.

Within a few seconds of me moaning and whimpering, I reach that peak. "Cato!" I scream in ecstasy before feeling myself come undone. An intoxicating warmth spreads through my body. I've never felt so good in my life. Trembling slightly, I sigh contentedly. I feel my muscles unclench and breathe heavily as if I had just run a marathon as he carefully licks me clean.

He comes back up to kiss me one last time. I can taste myself in his mouth. "That was…" I trail off, still panting.

Cato pulls my underwear and shorts back up onto my hips. "I've never eaten a girl out before. You should be honored," he casually informs me with a satisfied grin.

His crass words still embarrass me, which is silly considering what we just did. I burrow my face into his chest, "Well I guess I should be thanking you then." His fingers are still sticky with my arousal, and before I can even think about my actions, I begin to lick his hand clean.

He looks at me, bewildered, and I just stare back at him innocently as I run my tongue along his fingers. "Has anyone told you that you're extremely sexy?" His words come out a little strained.

I kiss the tip of nose just to tease him. "I think you've mentioned it once or twice before." Before anything more is said, I am cut off by the rumbling of my own stomach.

Cato chuckles lowly, "Still hungry Clo?" He gets up and extends a hand to help me up. "Let's get you home." I stand up with shaky legs, wobbly and weak from the experience I have just received.

We walk home in relative silence. I'm thinking hard. Just as we pass the train station by the entrance of Victor's Village, my hand brushes against his idly. I clasp his hand in mine, which sends tingles up my arm. I pray that he understands my actions.

He stops though and stares incredulously at our two hands. I swear I even see a blush emerge across his cheeks. Cato never blushes. But his shock is short-lived. A cocky grin replaces it, "Geez, all it took was a guy going down on you?"

I slap him on the arm hard for his asinine comment, but he catches my arm before I make contact and pulls me close for a kiss. Our lips crash together and this kiss is different from the other ones. It is still rough and hard, but it's passionate and searching-

"Yoohoo! Cato! Clove! It's been too long!"

We break apart, chests heaving. No it can't be. The voice that's been haunting me for months. Oh no. I look up at Cato, truly fearful. We turn together towards the voice.

Letta comes bouncing out of the train station, wig swaying dangerously and poofy dress as foolish as always. The familiar faces appear after her: Merino, Nika, Ambrosia, Easton.

I wheel around to face Cato again, asking telepathically if we should make a run for it.

The Capitol is back in town.

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