Important A/N, please read: I find that while my chapters get lengthier and lengthier, the amount of feedback is decreasing. Is this story boring you? Or is it the long chapters? Maybe I should have cut this chapter in 2...15 pages in Word, at 10 pt font. That's quite long, trust me. And it took only 3 days to complete. I honestly don't even know why I'm updating so fast...it's like I can't live without writing , I like, neglect my schoolwork and work on my fanfics instead, which is pretty bad. Eh...it's worth it.

I'm very glad that so many people are liking my writing, and almost 400 of you have this fanfic in your alerts. But quite frankly, I really don't care if you favorite my story or add it to your story alerts. What I really want is to know what you think about my writing, and how I can improve. I know that many of you just read and wait for my next update, as silent as an owl...no, a mouse. But seriously, I love love love reading reviews. I smile so much and I actually say stuff like "Awww...that's so sweet, hunnie!" and "You are such a darling..." out loud while checking my messages on my ipod. My family thinks that I'm freakin' crazy. (and they're right.)

And...about the whole subject on whether Cato will be dying or not...I've decided not. I really do love him, which is pretty obvious when you look at my username and profile pic. That, and I sort-of created him to be the guy that I would absolutely kill someone to have. Oh yes, I've always wanted to marry a blonde guy with the last name Greene as well...so...uh, yeah. Oh yes, and I'd rather not have 30 angry people coming to my house with knives and purell. (Lol hunnie, that made me laugh.) Anyways, I have also decided to create an alternate universe fanfic of the 75th annual Hunger Games after I finish up this story and also my other fanfic on Finnick and my OC's year. The thing is, the Quarter Quell fanfic will feature Cato, Katniss, Finnick, and maybe Rose (my OC). So if you want to prep up for that story, you might wanna jump onto the bandwagon for my other fanfic, so that you actually understand the stuff about them that I will be writing.

Anyways, please enjoy.

...

Cato:

"Don't move!"

"I'm not!" I reply, annoyed. "Clove, stop pushing me!" I slam my shoulder into Cloves, bumping her away from me.

"But I'm hungry! Can't she bandage your arm after we get some food?"

I roll my eyes, we'll have to get back to the lake and retrieve another bag of food from the tree. Although I doubt that it'll still be there. With all the rain and animals, there's probably nothing left.

"It's going to take forever to walk back to the lake. It'll be easier if I just hunt down a bird." Katniss snorts, grabbing my arm again.

We are sitting on the grass next to the river, Katniss is on one side of me and Clove is on the other. It's nice out today, the clouds have completely cleared.

"With what?" I smirk, knowing that the bow is still hidden under several backpacks.

"You know what? Just…" She opens her mouth, searching for a word that is nicer than shut up. I can tell by the way that a scowl starts to form on her lips and how her lips are slightly pursed, holding back the words. "Ugh…just be quiet and stay still, ok?"

"It's ok to tell him to shut up. He really doesn't mind." Clove snickers. She has picked up on it as well.

I smirk again and watch my district partner pace back and forth frustratingly while Katniss takes off the bandage.

She'll get her precious bow back soon. Then maybe she won't be as much as an airhead, like she's been ever since she lost it.

I'm hoping that she normally acts like she does with a bow, not like the weirdo that she is without it. If not…well, Clove's going to be the one coming out with me.

I can't let another strange girl creep into my life again. Not after what happened last year.

Katniss:

"Oh." I stare at the wound. Bleeding has pretty much stopped, but I can still see the pink muscle that lies under the skin. That knife actually went very deep, it seems. Every time that Cato moves his arm the slightest, I can see the muscles moving underneath, straining to connect with each other.

I remember multiple occasions when mine workers with torn muscles or ligaments came to my mother for treatment. They usually healed after a few weeks. It's only been a few days with Cato though, and I have a feeling that this injury is much more serious. The muscles in his arm were cut apart, not torn. And the wound will probably stay open until it's stitched up.

And then there's the fact that the flesh is getting infectious as well. Red-looking, starting to swell. Not a major concern at this point, but if it isn't treated, it could become a problem.

"This isn't going to heal anytime soon. An infection is sort-of forming." I say, racking my brain for what to do. I rarely stayed in the house when a patient appeared at the door. I prefer find hunting in the woods to seeing blood and pus and all that pour out of people's bodies.

I do know that you have to keep infections clean though. And that they sometimes bring fevers if they're bad. Oh yes, and there's probably bound to be pus and more blood. Wonderful.

"Exactly what I wanted to hear." Cato's sarcastic sigh brings me back from memories of horrible infected wounds that caused me to flee out the back door like a child running from her playmate. Alright, bad comparison. It's more like someone running from a rat with two heads. No, even better…a tribute running for their lives.

Nah, that seems too dramatic. I decide to stick with the two-headed rat comparison.

Clove whirls around and breaks off her pacing and comes to look at Cato's arm.

"He'll be fine. Cato's been hurt so many times that he's probably partially immune to pain." She says after one glance.

"That's good, I guess." I quickly add, "that he isn't in much pain, not that he's been hurt."

"I swear, every single person in the damn training center back home has nabbed him at least once. While he's concentrating on something else, of course."

"That includes you, Clove. Remember when you 'accidently' threw a knife at my face?"

"Uh huh. It didn't even leave a scar though, 'cause it only skimmed your cheek." Clove is grinning, and there is slight disappointment in her tone.

"No, seriously. It's like they were all trying to mess you up and make it less likely for you to be chosen. Or maybe they were just aiming to screw up that pwetty little face of yours." She snickers and Cato rolls his eyes again.

"That explains why no one threw anything at you, doesn't it?" Cato smirks as Clove makes a face and sticks out her tongue at him.

.

I walk a few feet and wet a cloth in the river. When I sit down at Cato's arm again, I think about warning him of what I'm about to do, but then decide against it. He's far to busy snickering with Clove to notice a lowly District 12 girl that just happens to be tending his wound. I can feel a frown coming on, and force my mouth to not move downwards.

"Like it mattered how good-looking you were…she didn't care either way." Clove says. Then her hands fly to her mouth as if she's said something extremely terrible.

"Don't. Please don't." Cato says softly, closing his eyes. His voice is flat, emotionless. There's no way that I can tell what he is feeling, it's either his voice or his eyes. He gives nothing away with his body.

They are both silent, smirks gone. Clove shoots apologetic looks towards Cato, although his eyes are still closed. Finally she just casts her eyes downwards and just stares at her hands.

I'm so intent on trying to figure out what Clove meant that my hand tightens, forcing the water out of the soaking cloth.

The water drops onto Cato's cut, some water droplets seeping into the open wound. Ouch. That probably stings like crazy.

But he stays motionless, only twitching his shoulder the tiniest bit.

"I'm sorry, Cato." Clove says meekly. It is one of the few times that I have ever seen her serious.

Cato opens his eyes and stands up without giving me a chance to bandage his wound. He walks to the river and stares down at the calm, flowing water.

"Let's change the subject." He says. "Katniss, look under those backpacks." His voice is still flat, but I hear him making an effort to sound normal.

I put down the wet cloth and walk towards the pile underneath the tree. Lifting up Cato's (extremely) heavy backpack, I notice a familiar silver shine.

I pick up the bow and turn back to Cato and Clove. Clove's still staring at her hands, but Cato is watching me, waiting for my reaction.

In actuality, I really just want to punch him for hiding the bow again, but seeing the expression in his eyes and remembering the flatness of his voice, I decide to tone down my anger a bit.

"Did you find this, or was it with you this whole time?" I can't keep the accusing tone out of my voice. "And where are the arrows?"

"District 3 had it with him." Clove cuts in. "The arrows are probably in his backpack or something."

I look towards Cato for permission, and when he nods, I unzip his backpack. Inside are four silver arrows. The white feathers that were so stiff and straight when I snatched the quiver from Glimmer are now roughed up, but I can deal with that. It's not too hard to straighten feathers.

"You're welcome." Cato finally says. When I look over, the familiar smirk is back. But I can't help but wonder if everything is just a mask. The smirk, the flat voice, those icy eyes that guard secrets so well, what if they are all hiding something?

I'm so puzzled that I don't answer immediately.

"Very welcome." He prompts again.

"Ok, I got it the first time. Thanks."

"I really don't feel like heading back to the lake today." He suddenly says, eyeing my bow. In other words, he wants me to hunt.

"Alright. Clove, can you clean up his arm and bandage it? I might be gone for a while."

"I'll do whatever if you bring back food," she grumbles. I smile a little and tread step into the forest.

This is my territory now.

Cato:

This can't be happening. No…why did Clove have to bring her up?

Images flash through my mind, and I try to force them away. Intense blue eyes, a melodic voice, dancing in the rain…no. I can't, I just can't think about her anymore.

"I really am sorry, Cato. I didn't mean to…" Clove apologizes again, and there is genuine sorrow in her voice. She knew her like I did, she knows what I'm thinking of.

"Clove…it's too late now. She's gone." I let go of the flat voice, and find my tone to be so full of emotion that I stop talking and just stare at the river again.

It's better to stay quiet than show weakness.

Katniss:

"What the hell is that?"

"It's called a rabbit, Clove. And here's a bird." I throw the still-warm bodies at Clove, and grin when she quickly jumps out of the way.

"That's unsanitary, you know." She stares at the mangled fur and mussed feathers, covered with blood. I tried to straighten out the feathers on the arrows, but it was still hard to get a clean shot. I got the bird after two arrows, and the rabbit after one.

"I wouldn't be talking, Clove. You came back covered in blood yesterday, remember?" I find it ironic that a killer like Clove, who loves seeing blood run from wounds that she's inflicted; is disgusted with a bit of blood on a freakin' rabbit. A rabbit, for god's sake.

"Hmph. Just cook it and tell me when it's done." She turns on her heel and scurries back to Cato. I grit my teeth and several curses and threats run through my mind.

"Oh yeah, I need my knife back now. Since you have your bow."

"Obnoxious little…" I growl.

Clove moves to the backpacks and sits down, back turned to us. She seems to be taking out her knives and counting them? Or is she sorting them?

I take the golden knife from my belt and get ready to stomp over there and give it to her. But then Cato catches my eye.

He mouths two words. Throw it.

I pull back my arm and throw the knife at a tree trunk right next to Clove's sitting figure. It hits kind-of near my intended target…uh, yeah. It misses by several inches and instead hits a log only a few inches away from Clove.

Thump.

"What the hell!" She jumps up nearly a foot, eyes wide and knives in hand. Cato is snickering like crazy, but I manage to keep a straight face.

"Freakin' idiots." She mutters. Then she slaps Cato hard. In the split second before her hand flashes out though, I can see her eyeing the injured arm, as if she was thinking about hitting it instead of his good arm.

"It was you, wasn't it?" Clove watches as Cato continues chuckling, and then answers her own question. "No. Your aim can't be that bad."

"I'm watching you, Fire Girl." She makes the I've got my eyes on you motion, pointing two fingers in my direction, before sitting back down.

I exchange grins with Cato, but then quickly wipe my face blank as Clove suddenly turns and stares at me with narrowed eyes.

While I skin and cook the rabbit and bird, she glances at me several times, much to my amusement.

Cato is on his back, staring up at the fluffy white clouds. He looks so…bored, emotionless. Like he's feeling absolutely nothing at the moment.

But I've learned that he's a little too good at hiding things.

As my hand turns the spit that the rabbit and the fowl are on, I think about what Clove said to upset Cato so much. Something about a girl and how she didn't care about how he looked. I'm so curious that I want to just ask outright, but I know that they wouldn't answer.

"It's ready." I say, removing the cooked meat from the fire. Clove glances at Cato, who doesn't move an inch, let alone acknowledge me, and scurries to the fire.

"You eat some first, just in case it's poisoned." She insists. I roll my eyes and rip off a rabbit leg, taking a huge bite.

"Happy now?"

In response, Clove tears off a piece of the bird, slowly bringing it to her lips. She takes a tiny bite and chews slowly.

"Not bad. Still not as good as chicken though." Typical response from a teenager raised in one of Panem's wealthiest districts. I don't even bother arguing, I just send her an annoyed look and continue eating my leg of meat.

I am about to call out to Cato, asking if he wants any, but Clove grabs my arm as I open my mouth, digging her tiny nails into my skin.

"Leave him alone. He'll eat when he wants to." She hisses softly. Cato is still laying there, face blank, staring up into the blue blue sky.

"Okay." I tear my arm out of Clove's grasp and put out the fire. Then I find a sheet of foil in one of the backpacks and wrap the remaining meat in it. The embers of the fire are still hot, and I bury the foil into the ashes.

"I have to leave." Cato suddenly says.

"Leave where?" I ask.

"To get the food from the lake." He replies flatly.

I exchange glances with Clove. We all know that whatever was left of the food bags is most likely gone by now, washed away by the rain, eaten by wild animals, or rotten.

Knowing Cato, he knows this very well. If he's leaving, it's not to get food from the lake. He has another intention.

"Like, right now?" Clove voices my question. Cato gives a small chuckle.

"Yes, right now." He sits up slowly. "You two stay here."

"But you'll be gone for most of the day, right?" Honestly, if Cato's actually going to the lake, he's going to have to find which direction it's in first. And from what I know, it's going to be quite a long trek, even while running.

"Yes." He agrees, standing up. It is all so sudden, the announcement and decision. Cato walks over to the pile of bags and hoists his up on his shoulders.

"Do you want something to eat?"

"No. Be good, ok?" He smiles crookedly, but there is something wrong. His mouth is smiling, but his eyes are full of something completely different. I can't tell if it's sorrow, or if I am just having trouble seeing in the sunlight.

"Yeah, whatever. Just don't get killed." Clove dismisses him with a wave of her hand, going back to her leg of bird. I can't believe that she can just wave him off like that. But then I notice the way that her head is tilted slightly towards Cato. Listening for his response.

"Likewise. And shouldn't you know, Clove? I don't die easily."

And before I can say anything, he is gone. I sit there with Clove, confused. Where is he going? And why?

...

Morning merges into afternoon, and then afternoon slowly slips into evening. Cato still hasn't returned. The past hours have been painfully awkward, since Clove prefers to play with her knives and eat continuously rather than talk to me.

I decide to break the silence, since I've become quite bored with trying to catch the little silver fish that slip between my fingers and continue their swimming in the river.

"Do you know where he's actually going?"

"Weren't you listening? To the lake, idiot." She pauses her sharpening of knives and rolls her eyes. But I can tell that she doesn't believe it either, by the way that her eyes cloud with is that…worry?

"Seriously. You know where he is, don't you?" I prompt again. Her eyebrows furrow a bit and her answer is spoken slowly.

"Cato's probably laying in a meadow or something right now." A meadow? I feel like Clove can answer many of the questions that have been running through my mind, and I move away from the river and take a seat across from her.

"A meadow?" I ask, raising an eyebrow. "Why a meadow?"

"God, Fire Girl. Why are you so curious about everything? It's not like it matters to you." Clove growls, returning to her knives.

"Be that way then." I huff. Then seeing Clove reach for another piece of rabbit meat, I add, "And you can't have any more of the rabbit."

She draws back her hand and scowls at me, finally rolling her eyes.

"It's because the meadow used to be where he would take h-" Clove suddenly stops speaking. "Where he would take…his dog." She finishes with difficulty, and I know that that is not what she was really going to say.

"Of course. He's visiting a meadow because he misses his dog." I say.

"Sorry. I can't tell you any more than I just did. Cato'll kill me if he finds out."

.

The sky is steadily darkening, and I start a fire while Clove stays silent, looking troubled.

"How much do you know about him?" I ask. Clove scoots closer to the fire, eyebrows still furrowed.

"Everything. Every damn thing about his life. Well, almost everything." She answers softly, not a drop of sarcasm in her voice.

"Is that a good thing?"

"Well, it's nice to have an idea of what goes on in his head…and you don't really ever get bored with Cato Greene." She smirks.

"Yeah, I've noticed." Then, realizing that this is the perfect opportunity to learn more about the dangerous District 2 tribute, I lean forward. "Tell me about him."

"And why would I do that? Ask him yourself." Clove snickers.

"No rabbit for you." I take the remainder of the rabbit and the bird and stuff them into a backpack. But before I zip the backpack up, I rip off a piece of meat, purposely chewing dramatically.

"This is really good. Too bad that you can't have any."

Clove glares at me, and fire reflects in her dark eyes. The sky is very dark now, and the first stars can be seen among the indigo masses.

.

"I hate you." Clove says, throwing another stick into the fire. "Fine then." She takes a breath, as if to prepare. I eagerly sit down on the grass besides her, drawing my knees to my chest.

"Well, Cato's extremely, no…unhealthily competitive. He always wants to be the best at everything. And I have to admit, he usually is."

"That's obvious." I mutter.

"He can so obnoxious that you just want to slap him." Clove continues.

"Tell me about it."

"But he can also be decent. In an obnoxious way, of course. Once when I broke my leg, he carried me home…"

"Yeah, how nice of him."

Clove shoots a look of irritation towards me. "Will you shut up with the comments already? I'm trying to talk here."

I blink innocently and put on a pleasant smile. "Go on."

"He despises weakness. Absolutely despises it. He never, ever, shows any type of weakness. Ever. Oh, and on that note, Cato can hide things so well that even I can't figure him out sometimes."

"Oh my god. Even Clove can't figure Cato out? The world's coming to an end." I can't help but comment sarcastically, the way that Clove is talking just calls for some sarcasm.

I blink innocently again when Clove's hand tightens around the handle of a silver knife.

"And one last thing that you need to know. He doesn't love easily." She whispers, looking around as if Cato is listening.

I digest the information slowly, staring into the red-hot embers of the fire. Clove continues talking.

"And…when he falls? Damn. He falls hard."

Cato:

I know that a meadow is the last place that I should go to forget. To push all those memories behind me again.

But I can't stop myself.

I spend the whole day in that little meadow, just laying there and thinking. About her, about home, about what I should do. And finally when the first twinkling lights appear in the dark sky, I sit up, thoughts still running through my head.

…

"How was your trip to the lake? Tired much?" Clove asks when I get back to our temporary camp. She is keeping watch, and Katniss seems to be asleep, huddled in her sleeping bag. It is cold tonight, frosty even.

"Very. It was quite a trip. All the food was gone." I smirk back. She obviously knows that I basically sat in a meadow all day.

"That's too bad, because all the meat that Katniss hunted is gone too. Guess you'll have to wait 'til tomorrow to eat."

"Guess so. Go to sleep, I'll take it from here." I can't sleep right now anyways, my head is too full of thoughts, confusing images that disappear as quickly as they come, snatches of soft voices.

"Ok. Ugh…why do we only have one sleeping bag between us? It's cold tonight," Clove mumbles, annoyed. She finally lays down a few feet away from Katniss' sleeping figure, curling up to stay warm. It's pathetic.

I whip off my shirt and throw it at her. With surprising speed, she sits up and snatches it out of the air.

"Ooo! And it's still warm!" She talking about it as if it's food. "Won't you be cold though?"

"You know that I don't get cold easily, Clove." I roll my eyes. It's slightly chilly out, but nothing that I can't handle.

She sniffs the shirt, and I have to resist the urge to roll my eyes again.

"Clean enough for you?"

"Yes actually. It sort-of smells like blood though." She inhales again, bringing the shirt to her tiny face.

"I apologize sincerely that I was unable to prevent the tribute boy's blood from dirtying my garments." I manage to keep a straight face and put on a snotty, formal tone. But then I start snickering, and all seriousness that I had disappears.

She looks at me like I'm crazy, then smiles wickedly.

"Apology accepted. And just to let you know, I actually like the smell of blood."

"I know you do. Sadly." I reply.

Clove shoots me another manic grin, and then drapes the dark shirt over her body and curls up again. She is asleep within minutes.

And then I'm sitting there alone again, thinking and wishing for something that I can never have again. The sky is filled with tiny spears of cold light, surrounded by a blanket of darkness.

If only shooting stars were real.

Katniss:

"You and I both have a thing for waking up in the middle of the night, don't we?"

The first thing that I hear when I jerk awake from a dream is a familiar, obnoxiously sarcastic voice.

I yawn and fight the urge to fall asleep. The moon is full tonight, and I can see Cato sitting near the river, which shimmers in the silver light.

"Yes, we seem to." I rub my eyes, then look at Cato again. "Geez, put a shirt on, Cato. It's not like anyone's there to admire your…"

"My what?"

"Your physical…attributes." I finish awkwardly. He grins and just adjusts his position, making sure that I have an even better view. I try to ignore him and continue. "And aren't you cold?"

"No. You should know, it takes a lot of resistance to cold to be designated as the Fire Girl's human heater. Oh wait. Nevermind, you were just seeing if I could hug better than Lover Boy back then, weren't you?"

But then remember I something Clove told me earlier. "He never, ever, shows any type of weakness. Ever." So even if he's freezing to death, which I doubt, he most likely won't say a word.

I roll my eyes at his smirk. "Are you always this obnoxious?"

"Obnoxious? Who, me? Pfft…" Cato waves a hand at me mockingly, voice sarcastic. Then, "I don't know. But if you want me to change my attitude, I can. For you."

"I really think that cockiness is an embedded trait, Cato."

"Oh really, darling. Do you really think so?" Cato's voice drops into a purr, smooth and captivating. He pronounces "darling" like "dahr-ling". Cato looks at me with heavily lidded eyes, lips slowly curling into a smile.

"Um. No, the Finnick Odair approach really doesn't…fit…you." I say. Oh god. Did I really say that? With my luck, Finnick is probably watching at this moment.

"Really…" He continues in an annoyingly seductive chuckle. I'm having a hard time pushing away the fluttering feeling in my chest. I mean, when someone like Cato is half-naked and purposely putting on a smile like that, it's pretty difficult.

"Just…put a shirt on and drop the voice, ok? I can't take you seriously right now."

"Do you really want me to wake Clove? She won't be happy." He says in his normal voice. I look over at the small girl. She is curled up tightly, holding on to something. Cato's shirt.

"No. I don't think that we should wake the sleeping troll right now. We might go deaf from her screams and cause several birds to fall from the sky." I reply.

Cato grins and chuckles quietly. Then he turns those icy blue eyes towards me, studying me.

"You really are weird...I'm in trouble, aren't I?" The words are so quiet, and no matter how hard I try, I can detect nothing sarcastic about them.

What the heck is that supposed to mean? I shoot him a look of confusion.

Cato:

She looks so confused. Just like I am right now.

"Come here." I say softly. When Katniss doesn't move and just keeps staring at me, I bring a hand to my forehead and just hold it there, eyes closed and feeling immensely confused.

"Please, Katniss."

I can hear her getting up and the almost silent steps that bring her closer and closer.

"What do you want?" She sits down next to me.

What do I want? I don't know myself. Nothing makes sense anymore. Nothing. If only I had been there last year, there to save her. If only I knew that she would be waiting for me when I return home. If only I could just forget and move on. If only.

"Sorry. I'm just a little screwed up right now." What the hell. Did I really just admit that? I look at Katniss, who studies me with curious eyes.

Katniss:

"Aren't we all?"

Cato laughs quietly, but instead of joy there is a bitterness. "Yes. But in that case, I'm more screwed than all of you put together."

All of you. All the tributes in the Hunger Games. He sounds so different, so completely different than the smirking boy he was this morning.

As I am about to deliver another sarcastic yet moderately nice line, he suddenly turns his eyes to mine.

"Don't even tell me that I'm not." There is a pause.

"If I was, I wouldn't be doing this." He says quietly, still staring at me.

"Doing what?"

Cato grabs me and gently pulls me towards him, then locks me in a tight squeeze. With my instincts, I immediately start trying to wriggle out of his arms. Then I stop suddenly, realizing that he isn't actually hurting me. He stands up with me still pressed against his half-naked body.

"I'm sorry. But will you let me do this for just a few minutes?" His voice whispers from my left side, and I turn my head slightly so that my line of vision ranges from his bare skin to his cold blue eyes.

I can't say that the feeling of practically being glued to a wall of muscle and smooth skin is unenjoyable, so I just nod as his arms tighten once more.

Cato:

I don't know why I'm doing this. I surprise myself every so often, and this is one of the few times that I feel like I have no control over my body.

Katniss is warm. A little bony and sharp, that's for granted, but also soft. And she reminds me so much of the blue-eyed little girl that had been in this pose so many times before, that something in me aches faintly.

I can feel my arms tightening slightly, and I can feel Katniss' chin digging into my collarbone.

"It's been so long." I murmur, hating myself for letting the wistfulness slip through the words.

"So long since what?" Her voice is just as quiet, a low whisper.

"Since I've actually liked a girl."

Katniss stares at me. "Wait, you like me?"

"Don't flatter yourself. I was just saying that it's been a long time." I answer, not even adding the smirk that the statement calls for.

There's something wrong with me. Something seriously wrong. A few days ago I wouldn't have passed on a chance to snicker my ass off, but right now I just want to drop that whole act.

Katniss:

I stare at him again, still trying to collect my wits. Everything is happening so fast, it's so confusing. I don't even care that he kind-of denied that he liked me. Or maybe my mind is still trying to process that information and send me thoughts that actually make sense.

"You remind me of someone." He looks perplexed, and in the silver glow of the moon, I can see his eyelashes moving as he blinks.

"Who?" I ask. Well, I am about to ask that. But before I can open my mouth, he loosens his grip. I hunch up a little as the cold takes advantage of the sudden drawing away of warmth.

"Not someone you need to be concerned about." He says softly, studying me. I didn't even get a chance to pose the question, and he answers it. Figures.

So I just continue staring, still loosely held by those tanned arms.

"The stars are really nice today, aren't they?" Cato says innocently.

I look up, and as my head is tilted, he removes his right hand from my back and catches my chin. I stay still, now completely and ultimately confused.

Then, so quickly that I almost don't register it, he kisses me.

It only lasts a moment, a gentle press of his lips to mine, but in that fleeting second, I notice so many things that it's almost unbelievable. Like how his nose brushes against mine. Or how his left arm is tight and pulling me towards him again. And the way that he hesitates before slowly removing his mouth, as if he deosn't want to stop.

I am left breathless, eyes wide and staring, staring as always, at the attractive boy with his cool eyes and handsome features only inches away. Mere inches.

And I've never wanted anything more.

Cato:

I couldn't resist. I just couldn't. It's been so long since I've done something like that. Which is why I knew that I had to. Just this once, just to stop the dull ache in my chest for a few short moments.

"Ah…geez. Sorry about all this." I manage to pull off a smirk, then quickly shift it to a faint smile when I realize that it's not the time for sarcasm.

Then I quickly move away, making sure that Katniss doesn't fall as her hands disengage themselves from my skin.

I don't know why, but I feel like I should apologize. For what I'm going to do next.

"I'm sorry, Katniss."

Then I walk across the small stretch of lush grass, into the forest. Only then, I break into a run.

Katniss:

I stare at the place where Cato disappeared, my lips still tingling and my body still warm. The sky is cold, icy and perfect-looking. A little like what I feel right now…and exactly like Cato's eyes, his words, everything about him. So cold and shielded.

I can't even comprehend how he can be so close and yet so far away at the same time.

...

A/N: I spend a lot of time writing, as cheesy as it sounds. Time that I should be spending on homework and schoolwork. But only because I love this story, and I love you guys. If I got no feedback, I would probably only update like, once a year or something. My lovely reviewers always cheer me up whenever my family members are treating me like sh-t, and make me feel so...wanted and happy. For one of the first times in my life. So, thank you.

I think that I'll update sometime next week. Or maybe on Sunday or Monday...if I feel like it. I really need to pick up the pace on my other story though, since both need to be done if I want to start the 75th hunger games fanfic. And...some food for thought. For me as well as you guys: What do you think of Clove? Do you like her or dislike her? / Do you think that I should include more action and speed this up a bit, or more fluff and drag it out more? Or balance the two like I've been doing?

Anyways, thanks for reading. Please REVIEW!

xox-Risa