Disclaimer: I do not own The Hunger Games and I think I've made that pretty clear so last disclaimer in this story guys? ;D
My throat was caught in his death grip. I was forced onto my knees and my right arm was twisted behind my back. Slowly my oxygen supply began to reach a dangerously low level; I knew I had seconds to act.
Ever since Cato had let me in on his thoughts about tributes and friends nearly every action of his put me on guard. From his ferocious sword tactics he decided to demonstrate the day after on a dummy that looked suspiciously like me, to him talking to Silver at the end of every group session while glancing at me. This however, frightened me a little. I gave up struggling against Cato and thought through my options hurriedly. Dying wasn't going to be one of them. I couldn't overpower Cato but I could kill him if I could somehow break free, I thought and noticed a weight on my left thigh shift. Without any hesitation I moved my hand to my knife pouch while simultaneously kicking any part of Cato I could reach. I heard a satisfying crack and saw him fall to his knees and finally loosening his grip on my throat. I pulled the knife out from its leather pouch and made a deep gash on his arm that had captured me, after all this was what I was trained to do.
Cato yelled and immediately let go of me. I decided to attack while he was weak and pushed him against a wall of training mats. Before he could even process anything or retaliate, I had my knife at his throat. Who did he think he was? I thought bitterly while staring into the blue eyes of the boy who had just tried to kill me. I nearly trusted him. So very nearly but this entire time helping me was just another way to help himself thinking that I would have my eyes wide shut the entire time.
"What," he gasped, "the hell are you doing Clove?" Cato's eyes searched mine with anger. He didn't dare move with the edge of my knife resting comfortably on his throat. I didn't show any sign of confusion or any of the mixed emotions I was feeling right now, I didn't want to show him any sign of weakness.
"I should be asking you the same question. What the hell are you doing Cato?" I sneered, half mocking, half demanding.
"We were training in combat today remember?" Cato snarled with his eyes flashing, "Now let go of me."
"Combat training doesn't include trying to ki-" I yelped.
Cato look his chance to slide my off my feet by sweeping his foot under my shins and yanked my hand whilst battling the knife out of my hand. Just before I crumpled to the floor with the impact of his shin kick, he wrapped his hand around my waist and in one fluid motion pushed me violently against the training mats wall. The mats cushioned the blow but just as I raised my fists to do as much damage as I could to Cato, his hands pinned my arms by my side with a grip of steel. There was no way out.
"Now," he said raising his eyebrows, "let's talk about this sensibly."
Author's note - (Anon/Nina/Artist quest/ all those waiting) I am so very sorry about the late update. I actually wrote this chapter out on the back of a pad on a really long, really boring train journey but I kept on pushing it out of the way because I had a final deadline kinda thing for the last two weeks so I told myself I wouldn't type it out until I'd finished that.
Also thank you once again for reading/reviewing (Anon/Nina) and Artist quest, thank you for the lavhly words
Feel free to review, I'd love to know what you think of this chapter!
(Here's a song for this chapter : Twin Atlantic - Make A Beast Of Myself)