A/N: Ok, apparently most of you guys like fluff...a lot? I felt like writing today, so here's your fluffy chapter early. Have fun reading, darlings.
Katniss:
Cato looks so much younger when he's sleeping. I can almost forget that he's a trained killer and believe that he's just a normal boy, watching him lay there.
Even Clove looks remotely innocent, her usual smirk replaced by a calm look. I stare at them, one a strong blonde with muscular features, one a small brunette with childish attributes. I wonder what their histories are. What were they like before they started training for the Hunger Games?
I can see a hint of the little boy that Cato used to be in his serene expression. Just a little boy. Once upon a time, he didn't have any worries other than who he was going to play with, what was for dinner, who his friends were.
Now he's become a powerful leader of a group of killers. That's what we are…killers. I never see regret in his icy eyes when he kills. Never is there hesitation, remorse, sadness. Nothing.
While I've been keeping watch, I've thought about so many things. Like who Cato really is. Clove is easy to understand, she's mischievous and loves to kill. But Cato? He can be so obnoxious and cold, but at other times, he can be caring and maybe…kind?
There is morning mist everywhere, leaving dewdrops on the blades of grass. I shift my weight, and stare at the two sleeping on the ground. It's hard to believe that only days ago, there had been 24 tributes, well and alive.
Who was left? There is us three, Peeta and Rue, Thresh, and the boy from 3. Only 7 in the arena.
Suddenly Cato opens his eyes. I quickly look away, not wanting to be caught staring, but he had already seen me.
"Were you watching us sleep? That's just weird." He smirks.
"Don't tell me that you didn't stare at anyone while you were keeping watch." I snap back.
"Fine. I won't then." He replies. Typical Cato.
"Let me guess…you want to hunt down Peeta again today."
"Actually, today we can rest." He replies, surprising me. "I think that I'll take a swim and get this damn cologne off me."
"No, don't." I quickly say without thinking. Ugh, why did I just say that? Dammit.
"You like it?" He smiles teasingly, sitting up.
"What? No! I just thought…um…" I panick and blurt out the first thing that comes to mind, "there might be sharks in the lake."
"Sharks are in the ocean, airhead." He answers. Then in a flash, he is next to me. He moves closer, and I feel my face begin to get red.
"Are you sure that it's not the cologne?" He is practically whispering in my ear now. The scent of it wraps around me. He's so close that I'm scared to move, lest do something I'll regret.
I can feel Cato's breath on my cheek, and out of the corner of my eye, I see his piercing blue eyes on my face.
"Your face is so red." He finally murmurs. More heat rushes to my face, and I look down at my hands, cursing him and his good looking face mentally.
"Is it because of me? Hmm?" Cato smirks and I feel the tip of his nose brush against my ear.
"No, it's just really warm right now." I duck away from him and his cologne.
"You are such a bad liar. Fine, I'll keep it on." He chuckles, and then turns to the supplies. I breathe a sigh of relief…that was too close for comfort.
Clove seems to be still sleeping. I decide to ask Cato some questions that I've wondered about during my watch. He looks like he's in a good mood, and this might be one of the only times that I can talk to him without Clove's sarcastic comments.
"You volunteered, didn't you?" I don't know how to start, so I ask a question with an obvious answer.
Why am I such a freaking idiot around him?
"Didn't you watch the reaping recaps?" His replies. Obviously…
"Uh so…why?"
Cato's back is still turned to me. "Why did you volunteer for your sister?" I clench my fists. Can't he just give me a straight answer for once?
"Because she's my sister!" I hiss.
"I've been training for 10 years. Everyday. After school on weekdays, all day on weekends." He answers. Still no annoyance or smugness in his voice…he must really be in a good mood.
"Oh. So no one else trained as much as you did?" I already knew that the Careers trained before reapings and volunteered, but I hadn't thought that it was that tedious. No wonder why Cato and Clove are both so good at killing.
"Don't be ridiculous. There are plenty others." He scoffs, rearranging the food sacks.
"Then why were you the one to volunteer?" I ask again. This conversation is going around in circles.
"District 2 likes to have their victors," is his simple reply. So he was chosen to volunteer. To win the Games and bring honor to his district.
"Which is why no one volunteered for me. They knew that I would do the best job. " Clove's voice come from the ground. She's smirking at us.
"Say whatever you'd like to make yourself feel better, Clove." Cato says, back still turned.
"Very well then." She addresses me. "Fire Girl, did you know that Cato always used to-" She is cut off when Cato claps his hand over her mouth.
"If you say anything more, I'll break your arm." He growls. But his face is slightly red. It must have been quite an embarrassing subject.
Once Cato removes his hand, Clove starts laughing hysterically. I wonder for a moment whether she's completely sane.
"Ha, that gets you every time, doesn't it?" She snickers. Cato's grip on her arm tightens, and she stops talking, but continues sniggering.
"Well there's the time that you…" Cato trails off and glances at Clove mischievously. She pales and her smirk falters for a moment.
"That's what I thought." Cato smirks, letting go of her arm.
They really are almost like siblings. Cato seems to have a good time when they're fooling around. And the cold look in his eyes melts a bit. I wonder how long they've known each other.
"So, Clove. How long have you been training?" I ask, curious.
"Same as Cato. We trained together." She replies, smirking at me. Shouldn't she be able to use more weapons then? Cato's good with everything, but I've only ever seen her with her knives.
"Shame that you're only good with a knife." Cato seems to have picked up on what I'm thinking, and lightly shoves Clove good-naturedly.
"I don't need any of your fancy skills to kill someone. And I wasn't the one who stayed in the training center until midnight every night." She snorts, attempting to push Cato back.
"Shut up." He growls. I'm surprised. Midnight, every day? His life seemed to revolve around training.
"Anyways, what are we doing today? Can we kill somebody?" Clove's expression is of childish delight.
"No. I'm tired of running around." Cato sounds bored. "Maybe tomorrow."
Clove goes to the lake and fills her water bottle. "I don't want to just sit around."
"I was thinking that we could explore the area over there. Maybe we'll find District 11 somewhere. Who knows?" He gestures towards the rolling hills of golden grain to the west, the area that we haven't set foot in.
"That means that we're still running around." Clove frowns at him.
"And what happened to resting today?" I add.
Cato looks at us, amused.
"I changed my mind." Clove doesn't seem surprised at this, and I'm not too shocked myself. Cato's known for being unpredictable.
We eat a breakfast of bread and dried meat, and although it isn't too bad, I think of how much fresh meat I could get with a bow and arrow. Nevermind, Cato said that he threw them into the lake. Too bad for him, because now he won't be able to have any real food.
I doubt that he's ever tasted deer or rabbit. In that aristocratic district of his, they probably only have pork and beef and all that luxury meat.
I'm still bewildered at why they haven't killed me yet. They've had plenty of chances. We are so different. Back home, I hunted wild animals for food. But here, they hunt other children for survival. Or is it for fun?
Cato:
"Ugh…this is so much worse than the forest." Clove whines, dragging her feet. I know what she means, this damn field has no shade whatsoever from the blaring sun. I sense that there is something sinister hidden in the waist-height grain, but I haven't said anything.
"Can we go back now? It's so hot out…" Even Katniss' bratty side has come out on our trek. She and Clove keep on complaining about the heat.
"Yeah, and there might be snakes and stuff in the grass." Clove looks at me hopefully.
But I shake my head and continue walking forward. Screw their whines. We're going to keep moving until it's dark.
Katniss:
The golden hills of wheat and grass begin to look dangerous as night falls. Every rustling sound can no longer be categorized as a bird or rabbit in the brush, but the noise of the enemy.
Cato's been all tense and turns at every sound. I think that he's starting to regret not going back to the Cornucopia earlier, but it's too late now. We're probably pretty close to the edge of the arena, but from where we stand, the field seems to be infinite.
"Can we stop now? Please?" I hate how my voice has taken on a whiney edge, like a brat not getting what she wants.
I don't get an answer, but Cato and Clove both stop.
"Flatten all the grass around here and set up camp." He commands, setting down the bags. We do what he says and finally crawl into our sleeping bags, exhausted.
No one was killed today. The anthem comes and goes. Clove falls asleep immediately, but I'm awake. Cato keeps watch, as always. There's no fire, because we could accidently alight the whole field.
It's almost humorous when a steady breeze picks up, bringing rigid air with it. And I don't even mind when the temperature drops.
There's the sound of quiet chuckling in the dark, and I see Cato's shoulders shaking in the moonlight.
"What's so funny?" I whisper, although I already know.
"Oh, I was just thinking about two nights ago." He replies. Oh yes. Seems like the Game makers want a replay of that night. And they're using the same method too…some tricks never get old, do they?
Somehow Clove stays asleep as more icy gusts of wind rustles through the grass. But my teeth start to chatter. And Cato? Apparently he's immune to cold, so he still radiates heat. If only I were closer…it really was quite warm that night with him next to me.
I must be crazy, I think as I get up with my sleeping bag.
Cato watches me reproachfully as I sit down next to him. I pull my knees up to my chest.
"What are you doing?" He asks. I look over to see his blue eyes trained on me, brow furrowed.
"It's cold." I say, looking up at the stars in the dark indigo sky.
He smirks. "I think that we've established that fact." It's so déjà-vu that we both start grinning like idiots.
Even with our combined body heat, I am still cold. Cato has stopped grinning now, and just sits there, gaze fixed on a point in the starry horizon.
"I'm still cold." I say. He doesn't react, but I see his eyes flick to me for a moment.
"I'm not your personal heater." He retorts softly. Somehow I knew that he was going to say that.
You're just trying to get warm. You're not trying to cuddle up to him. I reprimand myself. But still, the little part of me that hated Glimmer that night seems to disagree.
"But I'll freeze…" I say, disappointed. I don't even know why I'm so set on this; I most likely can stand the cold.
"You're so annoying. Just go to sleep." Cato leans against the bags and crosses his arms. Then I have an idea…stupid as it may be, I know that it will work.
"I bet that Peeta gives better hugs than you. The one thing that he can beat you at." I say, as if it's not a big deal.
I see Cato stiffen beside me. It's working. And although I am prepared, I am not at the same time.
A few seconds after I've said it, Cato suddenly turns and grabs me up in both arms. I am practically sitting in his lap, head against his chest. He places his chin on my head and we stay like that for a minute.
I definitely know that my face is probably flushed red, but I don't care. It's so warm…and I can hear his heartbeat.
When he pushes me away, he is smirking.
"Still think that Lover Boy's a better hugger?" He looks at me coolly; face not even the slightest of reds. I have to take a few breaths before answering because my heart is pounding so quickly.
I imagine Gale and Prim and everyone across Panem watching us, but I don't care.
"No. I still think that he can beat you." I sniff. But inside, butterflies are fluttering in my stomach.
He stares at me for a moment, smirking. Then apparently his arrogance gets the better of him, and he sighs.
You're just trying to get warm! You're not trying to cuddle up to him…my conscience seems to scream. But I ignore it and breathe in the scent of his fancy cologne as he puts an arm around my shoulders to pull me into another enveloping embrace.
Haha...I stink at writing mushy stuff. And I seem to like the build-up the most, so I tend to hold back all the cuddling and stuff. But, since a lot of you luffles the fluffles, I packed it in a bit. Not too much, I hope?
Please review if you liked this chapter, I really do love reading them. I also take many of your suggestions up, so feel free to make one!
If I get 300 reviews, I'll probably die from happiness. Nevermind, this story isn't good enough to deserve that many. *scolds herself for being ridiculous*
But if it ever does, I'll update the night it hits the mark. If not, see you guys later this week? :D