A TALK BETWEEN CLOVE AND CATO
It was two hours later. Clove was in her room, slipping out of her Reaping dress after having fallen asleep in it. It was midnight blue, made of silk, and gathered around her ribs with the skirt ending just above her knees. This was her favorite dress, and the only thing she really felt attractive in. She knew she was strong, she knew she was skilled, but her appearance was the only thing she was never confident about. Her small stature and petite body, Clove was never considered lush and seductive, which always helped win over the crowd.
Suddenly the door opened.
"Clove, Brutus says that we're almost at the Capito—" Cato froze, eyes widening as he saw Clove standing half-naked, still taking one foot out of her dress and only wearing undergarments.
"Get out!" shrieked Clove as she snatched the comforter from her bed and clutched it at her chest to cover herself. Her face was burning bright pink. "Get out now!"
She ran up to him and tried shoving Cato out of the room, but only succeeding in closing the door tighter as Cato's body slammed against the door from Clove's push.
"Stop it!" said Cato as he took her shoulders with his powerful hands and thrust her aside. "Just go into the bathroom, I won't look!"
Only wanting to get out of this awkward situation as quickly as possible, Clove complied. She grabbed a random dress from the closet and ran into the bathroom. On the other side of the bathroom she could hear Cato give a heavy, heavy sigh. And here she was, in the bathroom, embarrassed beyond recognition. When she was still in the District Two Justice Building, Clove had already decided that she would ignore Cato for the most part: his brutal strength and cocky attitude was a bit much for her. But here they were, Clove hiding in the bathroom as she changed and Cato sitting outside with image of his half-naked District partner probably burned into his head. So much for ignoring each other, then.
Clove examined herself in the bathroom mirror. Her dress was a deep maroon, and she wasn't sure if she exactly liked it. It made her look…different. The skirt was flowing and weightless, ending just at her shins. The top was tight, with short sleeves that cut off just halfway down her bicep. It made her look older…and taller.
Shrugging, she left the bathroom and upon seeing Cato sitting on her bed, the previous ten minutes flashed back into her mind rapidly. Clove turned a light shade of pink and her face defiant or perhaps slightly angry.
"What were you saying, then?" asked Clove as if Cato had never walked in on her in nothing but underclothes. "Something about Brutus?"
Cato stared at Clove for a little while before slowly saying, "We're about half an hour away from the Capitol." He sat on her bed with his elbows on his knees, twiddling his thumbs. Clove sat on the bed near Cato, still a considerably amount away from him, but on the same bed nonetheless.
"Okay." replied Clove quietly. She stared out the window as the train seemed to rock the bed gently back and forth, almost like a mother cradling her child to sleep. For a moment Cato raised his eyebrows in confusion, but she didn't see that. All she did was stare out the window in silence. In a few minutes, she appeared to have forgotten that Cato was in the room. He didn't exactly know what to do, and was beginning to feel bored before deciding to say,
"I didn't know you even talked before today. Back at District Two, you never said anything. You just kind of sat there and stared. Like right now. Even at the dinners my father invited you to. The only times I've heard you ever say a word was when your mother ask you something. So today was different, then. You were screaming and angry. I've never seen you like that before. Given, I've never seen much of you at all."
Clove didn't respond, thinking about back home. She talked because her mother made her talk. She didn't talk because all she needed to do was throw knives and fight. She talked because she would say what her mother wanted her to. She didn't talk because her mother didn't need her opinions. Instead, those thoughts and ideas she never voiced all swirled in her head, locked up in some place in the back of her mind. And these thoughts were bloodthirsty and angry. In some way, they did twist her into something different. Something animal.
But here, where her mother's presence was missing, a heavy weight was lifted off her chest. She didn't need to hold back her opinions anymore. Now Clove's mind was all her own and she said what she wanted and acted the way she needed to. And if she was going to be successful with the Games and a hit with the Capitol people, she needed to be bold and brash.
"I don't need to hold myself back anymore." said Clove simply after the long silence between the two.
"…I'm going to dinner," muttered Cato as he stood up and made his way to the door. He stopped right before the doorway and turned his head toward Clove. "You look nice in that dress, by the way."
"Thank you—"
"But you looked better without a dress on at all." interrupted Cato, smirking with an absolute air of sauciness. Satisfied at Clove's astounded and offended face, he gave her a smug look.
end A TALK BETWEEN CLOVE AND CATO