A/N: Hello everyone! I'm sorry that I wasn't able to update sooner, but my computer has been crashing a lot these days. That, and I wanted to put extra effort and try to improve the quality of my work. I've been reading some other Katniss/Cato fanfics, and I can't help but notice how immature and child-like my story is compared to theirs. I know that this is my first fanfic and that I'm really just a kid at 13 years old, but I really do want to improve. So hopefully this chapter is better than my previous ones.
Also I want to thank all my reviewers and supporters, you've really been wonderful. To my anonymous reviewers-anon, geranium08, Flyere, Mace, Sophie, Mia, Anonymous, Anon, Priscilla X. Silver, scoco, Me, Hungergamesaddict, Jez, cupcake16, thank you so much. And to Anon (did you really stay up til 4 am?) and Honest Reviewer (thank you for the nice critique, I am working on improving).
Lastly, are there any pairings that you would like me to write fanfics about? I'm going to write a Catching Fire fanfic after this one is complete, but I also want to try some new things. Seriously, I want to improve and develop some time of style so badly. And I know, I shouldn't be swearing and implying dangerous themes in my writing especially since I'm so young, but reading so many fanfics with sexual themes and swearing has affected me quite a bit...so, sorry about that.
I hope that you enjoy the chapter and hopefully decide to leave a review. Thank you all once again for being such darlings. *hugs*
-Chapter 18: Lost-
Katniss:
I remember once when I was walking home from school with Prim, when she suddenly tripped and fell on her knees. I frantically crouched down so that I was at eye level with her, and asked if she was ok. When she didn't respond at first, I remember the worry that I felt. Even though Prim only scraped her knees, I carried her home like I would a rather large deer...but that's not the point.
I can't say that I feel the same fierce protectiveness as I sprint towards Peeta and Cato, but rather a fear. In my mind, I see the image of Prim on the ground and experience the same intense worry.
And the worse thing is that I know that Cato is seriously hurt. He may even be dead. I choke back a sob as I slip on a pool of blood and skid towards the fallen figures in the scarlet stained grass.
When I see the knife protruding from Peeta's neck, I feel better. That definitely killed him. And as much as I hate myself for thinking it, I'm immensely glad. Glad that the cannon didn't announce Cato's death, and rather Peeta's.
Now I am closer, I can see Cato's chest moving up and down with ragged breaths. I drop to my knees and carefully roll him onto his stomach. Usually I would be worried about sanity, the grass is completely covered with blood- but now none of that matters as of right now.
I survey the damage and wince in his sake. The first knife went about four inches deep. The second is in his shoulder, and...oh god. Only about an inch of the silver blade is still visible. I decide that I should probably deal with the deeper wound first. I grab hold of the handle and quickly pull the knife out, wincing at the suction-like noises. I don't know how to treat stuff like this...but I assume that I should clean it and bandage it of all things. There seems to be no water nearby, so I take out my water bottle and pour some of the cool liquid onto a cloth, and dab at the blood gingerly.
The moon is not full, so I have to strain to see clearly. If only I had a flashlight with me...I think that Clove has a few. Clove. I hope that she's searching for us.
"CLOVE! CLOVEEEE!" I yell her name as loudly as I can, while wiping at the cut. Cato groans and moves a little before falling silent again. I have to work quickly, there's not even time to build a fire, even though the night air is getting cold.
Cato's shirt is getting in the way, and seeing that it's already ripped up and bloody, I carefully cut it away from his body. All his injuries seem to be on his upper body anyways. Oh Clove. Please come.
I put a bandage on the clean wound and start working on the other one. I sincerely hope that Cato can't feel any of this right now, these look painful.
Finally as I'm bandaging the shallower knife wound, I hear the pattering sound of light footfalls. I call out to help Clove locate us. When she bursts into the clearing, The brunettes eyes are wide. She runs towards us and flings herself down next to me.
"Oh my god. What happened? Is he hurt really badly?" She rummages around and pulls out a lantern, which she flicks open. It creates a dim circle of yellow light.
"Peeta and Thresh were apparently working together, and then Cato took a few knives to the back. The wounds are pretty bad." I answer worriedly, rolling him back onto his back. There's nothing but several shallow cuts running across his arms and chest, and I quickly take care of them.
Clove gathers all the weapons lodged in the grass, stuck in Peeta's body, and laying beneath bushes as I work. Finally Cato is all bandaged.
"We should move to an area where there's water." Clove says. She carefully loops her hands under Cato's arms, and I grab hold of his legs.
"He's really heavy, just to warn you." She says. I nod, obviously he is. Muscle weighs more that fat. And...it turns out that we can't even lift Cato more than a few inches, let alone several hundred feet.
"You go look around for someplace to bring him, I'll wake him up," Clove decides. Seeing my indignant expression, she gives me a glare.
"He's going to be able to walk, I know that for a fact."
...
When I scurry back to tell Clove about a place nearby where there was easy access to a stream, I am greeted by not one, but two pairs of eyes. Cato looks dangerously pale, and his face is blank. For all I could know, he might be in unexplainable amounts of anguish, and it wouldn't show. He manages to give me a weak grin.
"I feel like I've been stampeded by a herd of cows," he says, slowly pushing himself up. Clove and I simultaneously rush forward to help, but he stares at us, daring us to even try. We immediately stand back, respecting his wishes.
Finally he is standing, and although I see his face nearly break into a grimace or frown several times, Cato maintains some form of the emotionless expression.
"You do know what a cow is, correct?"
I nod, there was a merchant who owned a few cows back home. He made a living selling the milk. Cows milk was a huge luxury in the Hob, and I think that I've only tasted it once at a particularly special Victory Tour feast, when some of the townspeople were invited. Gale's mother brought home a small cup of the creamy white milk, and let me have a sip after he and his siblings had all tasted. But Cato and Clove, being from such a wealthy district, must have had real milk often.
"I just thought that maybe they only have them in the wealthier districts." Cato explains, completely serious.
"At least you're not smirking." I mutter. Of course, Cato proceeds to curl his lips up into a half smirk once he hears the words.
Cato:
They look so worried, their foreheads creased and hands reaching out towards me, as if they want to help me. Clove even starts tearing up when she wakes me, but then quickly wipes her hand across her eyes before I can comment. I wish that they would keep those tears inside, like I've done for the past decade. Because when I see their eyes filled with all that emotion and hear the relief in those voices, I can almost let myself believe that I am capable of caring about them that much as well.
"Where to, lovelies?" I keep my voice light and push away the groan that is fighting to escape my lips. I mustn't show weakness. I must never show that I'm in pain…for pain is of the remaining things in this world that I trust, that I know is real.
And when Katniss slowly starts walking towards our destination, looking back worriedly; and when Clove silently brushes against my side just enough for me to lightly lean on her, I cling to the pain. I can feel its tendrils spreading across my body with every step, blossoming out from spots on my arms and back, but still I hold on to the intenseness of it all.
I've learned to control it, master it, cause it. But now I must bear it. I still remember my first day in the training center, a thought that makes me involuntarily cringe. Clove glances at me with worry, and I shake my head slightly and sink back into my thoughts. I was so small and terribly weak then, an innocent eight-year old with no worries but a multitude of dreams, plans, hopes. All regarding the Hunger Games and how I would win gloriously and someday be known across all of Panem. And as I stood before the stone building that day, I vowed that I would be the best of them all.
But I had never known that it would be so incredibly difficult to build up the resistance, the strength, the speed, the ability to fight. So many hours I sat on one of the benches on the edge of the training room, eyes wide as I watched the older boys handling swords and knives like they were nothing. I wished that I could join them, but my skimpy child's body couldn't keep up. I don't remember really trying until a few weeks later, when I overheard two mentors whispering to each other.
As I walk forwards, Clove still at my arm, I am lost in the memory, the day is still crystal-clear in my mind.
Stone walls and huge arched windows that let natural light flow into the room. The sound of shouting and grunts of exertion. Laughing and talking and the smell of sweat and hard work. The feeling of the wooden bench underneath my legs, which I don't swing to and fro like other children do, but instead keep still as I watch two older boys wrestle on a mat.
I want so badly to be strong and big like they are, and although they always let me try to throw their knives or push them down, I can't. I feel spiteful of myself, physically incapable of the brutal fights that I mentally engage in. No one else my age is here other than this tiny little dark-haired girl that glares at everyone including me from her perch on a bench on the far side of the room. I think that her name is Clove, she's in my grade.
I turn towards two mentors who break off from a group of boisterous boys with curious, wide eyes. I wonder what they are talking about, but remain seated, knowing that it is disrespectful to try to understand the matters of adults. So instead I strain my ears, nearly falling off the bench with the effort.
"…Velorum Greene's son is that one sitting there, ain't it?" I barely catch the wisp of conversation, and listen more intently.
"Yes. Apparently Enobaria thought that he showed promise. I don't know, he hasn't done much so far. And he's so serious all the time, I've never seen a smile light that angelic little face."
"Maybe his time to shine will come. Soon, or there's no point in keeping him here." I feel my heart freeze. I don't want to leave, if I do, there'll be no chance of me winning the Hunger Games, ever. I immediately hop off of the bench and run towards a boy closest to me, begging for a chance to try throwing a knife.
And that's how it all started. I spent all my free time in that stone building, testing myself and slowly growing stronger each day. But throughout it all there was pain, suffering and hard work, hours upon hours of pushing myself to do more, to be the best. And in the end it was all worth it. Ten years of training and District 2 produced a future victor.
"Cato? You there?" Cloves sharp voice interrupts my thoughts, and I snap my head up, biting my lip as a sudden jet of agony rips through my back. I haven't been paying attention to where we are going.
"Yeah." I look around and see unfamiliar surroundings. We are in a meadow filled with tiny wildflowers, and in running through the grassy clearing is a small stream.
"Clove, you make a fire. I'm going to go hunt down some meat." Katniss takes charge of the situation, dropping my and her backpacks with a crash and picking up her bow. I sincerely hope that the crash wasn't any of my weapons breaking. I know that I'll need as many of them as possible to take down the last opponent. District 11.
Which reminds me of the plight that I've pushed away and ignored for all these days. After killing District 11, I'll have to decide. I'll have to decide the inevitable.
Katniss:
Clove blinks at my orders defiantly, but then looks down at Cato and scurries into the forest to gather a few logs of wood that can sustain us an entire night.
I take a moment to straighten the feathers on my three remaining arrows- for all I know, the mussed up feather on that one that I shot at Thresh was what made me miss his heart- , and stuff them into my belt.
Then I turn to leave. But before I enter the forest, I glance back at Cato, who is staring up at the stars like he always does before he falls asleep. I feel like an intruder to see him at his weakest, lying there alone with blood-stained bandages covering his body. And what scares me the most is what I see in his eyes. Nothing. There's absolutely nothing…they are hollow and empty.
I tear my gaze away from Cato's blank eyes and injured body, hoping to forget about it once I start hunting. I hate seeing him like this all the time, hiding the pain and forcing himself to look like he feels nothing when he actually might just be dying inside.
"You don't have to hide everything, Cato." My voice is low and slightly bitter. I pause for a second, waiting for a response. But of course, there is just silence. The crickets chirping in the underbrush and the wind breezing through the trees even seem to take a breath, suddenly quieting.
I sigh and take another step forwards, then I feel tears starting to well up in my eyes, another reminder of how gentle he was when I was half-asleep this morning. Another bittersweet reminder of those kisses that I can almost still feel, one cold and quick, another hot and gloriously long. Complete opposites, just like Cato's different sides are. One moment he is looking at me with gentleness and talking softly, another moment his eyes harden and there is suddenly a cold edge to his entire being.
As I rush forwards, away from the meadow and into the darkness of the forest once more, Cato suddenly speaks, and I whip my head around to look at him. He is sitting up, and our eyes meet. His are full this time, full of different emotions that flash through the cool blue depths within seconds. Cato gives me a hesitant smile that momentarily alights his pale face.
"This is everything, Katniss." I watch as his smile fades and his eyes stop dancing and return to their cold, hollow state. I stare at them and find anguish hidden behind the wall that separates us. The wall that will always prevent me from getting closer.
A sob racks through my body and I still feel those wistful eyes on my back as I leap away.
Cato:
I stare at the trees for a moment more before laying down again, tired. I made her cry again. For the second time in a day. But I can't show Katniss any more of myself than I already have. The fear that I will lose myself to weakness is what motivates me to put up that barrier.
The pain I feel is somehow more tolerable than her tears. I can ignore my body, block out its needs and dull my desires. But I can't stop her from crying. I can never do what she wants me to, by hiding everything, I am hiding myself. My dark needs and unspeakable recollections.
As I wait for Clove to return with the firewood, I slip into another memory that somehow fights its way out from under my oppressing will. It's funny how the very thing that I dread to remember is of the happiest time of my eighteen years. A time when I thought I had it all.
I lift my body up and slam it back into the ground, counting on the discomfort to override the images of rain and sapphire eyes, smiles and laughs.
"If you need to distract yourself, I'm always available." Clove says as she trudges up to me with a load of timber. "And if you keep doing that, you'll never heal enough to kill District 11."
I growl and send her a look of annoyance. "I'm well aware of what I'm doing, Clove."
"Uh huh. Totally." She lights a fire and refills all the water bottles, then hands me mine. "I can't believe that you actually let that freaking giant get you. And fighting Lover Boy wasn't that hard, was it?"
I grab it with my left hand and take a swig, wishing that Lover Boy had stabbed this shoulder instead of my other one. Of course that coward had to go for my already injured arm and reopen a wound that was closing up as well as rendering it useless with that knife.
"Lover had armor on, and I wasn't exactly in top shape because somebody ate all the damn bird last night. That, and the giant attacked from behind and I would have rather him get me than Lover Boy. " I roll my eyes but stiffen a little when she lightly punches me in the arm, her fist connecting with a the surface of a bandage. She stares at my face eagerly, searching for something.
"You're never going to show how much pain you're in, are you?" Clove continues watches me with interest as she drains half her water bottle in one long session of gulping.
"Have I ever?" I reply. A sharp pain attacks two places on my back at the same time as the word comes out of my mouth, and I twitch my shoulder but keep a straight face.
"Cato...you're freaking crazy. I know for a fact that you're feeling like shit." Clove pokes at my arm with a finger, and I let myself wince slightly. She smiles, satisfied. "And these are definitely not going to heal right without some type of ointment or something fancy."
"You don't say..." I roll my eyes. And then we are both up and alert, looking intently into the sky. Nothing appears, and Clove offhandedly makes a remark.
"It would be such a shame if you died from your injuries, Cato Such a shame." She shakes her head dramatically, making tsking sounds with her tongue.
I normally wouldn't go asking for something like this, but I can't help but smirk and play along.
"Yes. And all my sponsors would be ridiculed because their tribute failed. I wouldn't want anything of the sort to happen, but..." I catch Cloves eye and she grins.
I grin back as we look up again to see a distant silver object floating, or rather - parachuting through the starry sky. It hits the ground on the other side of stream, and Clove jumps across to retrieve it. She dutifully brings it to me, but I can see that she's itching to open the metal parcel.
"Go ahead, open it." Before the words are out of my mouth, Clove is already eagerly fiddling with the cartridge, popping the latches open with a snap. She reminds me of a child opening a present, tearing at the wrapping paper and yanking on the ribbons.
"Wow. You're sponsors really love you, it seems." I slowly turn my head towards her. She is carefully lifting a syringe out of the container. Then she throws me a note that is also inside.
"Is that a painkiller?" I ask wearily. The pain that I felt earlier seems to be only a sliver of what really is, since I now feel as if arrows are driving into my body.
"It's…hydroxyphenyl tycidylml acetamide, technically. So I'm not sure. Maybe you should look at the note." Clove brings the little syringe up to her face, squinting to see the tiny lettering.
Pulsating jets of the same intense agony shoot down my arms and back, and I close my eyes tightly for a second before taking a deep breath and meticulously unfolding the slip of paper.
"This will take effect in under an hour, causes drowsiness. We can't afford medicine, hang in there for a bit. It's time to choose. Clove. No need to act anymore with 12. –Enobaria."
I let out an exasperated breath and send a look of pure annoyance into the sky. "What does it say?" Clove sticks her face into mine, and I quickly throw the note into the fire, not wanting her to know about Enobaria's opinion on who I should choose.
"Hit me up." I simply reply, ignoring her question. I hold out an arm and watch the fire slowly eating and blackening the edges of the paper until all that is left is ash.
She grabs the arm carefully and positions the needle above my bicep. Then she plunges down, pushing the end of the needle until every drop of the translucent solution drains into my bloodstream. I stare at the silver needle, unable to detect the prick and instead needing to watch the point enter my skin to acknowledge it.
In under an hour. I hope that the solution takes effect quickly, for the first time I find the thought of sleeping and dreaming welcome. I need to escape, if only until morning.
Katniss:
"You missed him. He just fell asleep a few minutes ago." Clove says softly when I return to the meadow with several birds in my hands and my eyes immediately are drawn to Cato's still figure. I let out a relieved breath when I detect the rise and fall of his chest and walk forwards to drop the bodies of the fowls.
"But he needs to eat…" My voice trails off as I try to recount that last time that I'd seen Cato consume any type of solid food. I can't even remember…oh yes. That night when he and Clove can back from their little trip to terminate the District 3 boy. He had a loaf of bread. A single loaf of bread in several days.
"Don't wake him, the painkiller is taking effect right now." Clove hisses, glaring at me. I notice the silver material that sponsor parachutes are made of, bunched up near the fire. A sponsor must have sent him something. Apparently some type of concoction to dull pain.
Lucky…I bet that if it was me laying there, the most I would get would be a thermos of soup or something. Then again, Cato is the obvious tribute to sponsor, he can survive and thrive. He can kill without batting an eyelash, and he hasn't been anything but strong and impenetrable throughout these few days.
I sit down and start plucking all the feathers off of the spotted bodies of the birds, watching as a breeze lifts them up and blows them away, reminding me of dandelion seeds or silver parachutes. As I find a long, narrow branch and string the carcasses upon it, I think about Peeta's armor. Where did he get it? There's a feeling in my gut that tells me that Haymitch sent it to him. Haymitch, who always seemed to like Peeta best. I don't blame him, I'm a devil compared to Peeta; but I still don't think it fair that my mentor hasn't sent me a single thing, while that single piece of armor must have cost our sponsors a small fortune.
"Clove?"
"What?" Clove is staring at the roasting meat with a hungry expression, her eyes huge and glittering and her mouth slightly open. "I mean, what do you want, Fire Girl?" She quickly snaps close her mouth, but still continues to be transfixed with the meat.
"How do you bear to be with him all the time?" I ask, staring at Cato as he sleeps with bandages covering half his back.
"Cato, you mean?" When I nod, Clove continues with a smirk. "I would rather say that he bears being with me."
"Seriously. I can hardly understand him sometimes." I repeat, exasperated.
"Well, that's your problem. Cato's not meant to be understood. He hides things for his own reasons, and his reasons are always right." Clove's eyes are narrowed, and her voice has the edge of a hiss to it, as if she is ready to defend her statement at all cause.
"And you're not annoyed when he keeps everything pent up inside and just shows you one of his blank faces?" My voice is rising in volume, and I lower it to a furious whisper.
"First of all, he does not always act like a stone wall. And second, why the hell would I be annoyed? I wish that I could do that and just shut everyone out." Clove pauses for a breath, glaring at me. "And I wish that I could pull off all those different expressions and fake my feelings like he does."
I stare at the girl in front of me, a tiny brunette with eyebrows furrowed together and lips pressed tightly. And I decide to repeal my vow to let her starve, Clove certainly deserves some food for that nice little outburst that confirmed what I already knew about Cato, as well as telling me more. So Cato can forge expressions now, can he? I wonder if everything that I've seen him do is a lie.
I quickly rinse off the grime and blood from my hands in the stream before I remove the meat from the fire. I pull of one of the birds and hand it to Clove, who grabs it and then winces as the hot meat burns her hand. I watch in amusement as she throws it up in the air, cursing under her breath. Finally she finds a clean piece of cloth and wraps the meat in it, taking large bites rapidly. I chew on a small piece of my bird slowly, arching an eyebrow as she nearly chokes on a bone in her haste.
"Hungry much?" I smirk. Clove looks at me when I speak, before going back to her food with a dismissive eye roll.
I honestly think that despite her body size, she has a larger appetite than Cato and I combined.
Cato:
When I wake it is almost dawn, and Katniss and Clove are talking, with limited amounts of snorting and eye rolling, with is an immense improvement.
There is a familiar numb feeling in my arms and across my chest, I remember a few months ago Enobaria "accidentally" sliced her sword across my chest when training and I had been given a similar painkiller.
I realize that I haven't properly shown gratitude for the parachute, and mouth "thank you" slowly, staring at the sky. Then I send my sponsors one of my most winning smiles before sitting up. Both of the girls' backs are to me, so I am unnoticed as I absorb our surroundings. There is a pile of blood stained knives next to the small fire.
"...and then he was like, 'A massage...that would be nice. But unfortunately my bed isn't large enough for more than one person. Sorry.' " Clove is enthusiastically telling Katniss about a certain incident that happened recently.
"Of course the pathetic little girl started blushing like crazy and ran away while we cracked up."
I roll my eyes, I still remember the girl stammering out her apologies while I just stood there, smirking. Good times.
"Are those my knives over there?" I bring my mouth up to Clove's ear and speak in a purr that somehow comes instead of the growl I intended it to be. "Why aren't they clean?"
"Feeling better, Cato?" She doesn't even turn towards me or answer my questions, but I know that she must be at least a little concerned. On the other hand, Katniss has a relieved expression on her face, although there is also a wary look in her eyes.
"If being numb is better, than yes."
"Eat this." Katniss hands me something wrapped in a piece of cloth. I unwrap it and find a roast bird, the type of bird that she's been hunting ever since she obtained her bow.
"All of it?" I look down at the browned skin with distaste. It'll probably be flavorless and dry, my least favorite taste.
"Don't be an idiot, of course you need to eat all of it. Aren't you hungry?" Clove stares at me in disbelief, then her face brightens. "Actually, I'll have it if you don't. They're not too bad, I already had two."
"You're going to be so fat and slow today, Clove. Don't eat so much while we're in here. Save your appetite for things worth your time." I rip off a leg and slowly take a bite, nearly grimacing at the blandness of it all.
"Oh yeah. I forgot that you only eat fancy stuff. Or maybe your mouth is numb too, because it honestly tastes decent."
"It tastes like cardboard." I reply shortly between the tasteless bites. They are both staring at me, eyes narrowed, and I have a feeling that they will attempt to force-feed me if I don't consume the entire bird. So I slowly eat through both legs and the two wings before putting the remainder down.
"Happy now?"
When Katniss opens her mouth to deliver a furious response, Clove cuts in. I smirk my thanks to her.
"He's not going to eat any more even if he's starving, so don't even try. Because apparently Cato only eats things that taste good to him."
I walk towards the stream and splash my face with the cold water, and retrieve all my knives and rinse the blood off before inserting them into my belt. When I turn back to the fire, Clove is stuffing her face with the rest of my meat.
"Fat little…" I mutter, rolling my eyes at her cheeks, which are bulging with food. She looks like an obese chipmunk. I think about telling her that, but then decide against it. I walk back and sit down a few feet away from Katniss and the air of caution that exerts from her and her wide grey eyes.
"I'll change your bandages." She finally says, getting up. I blink but say nothing and wait as she retrieves a roll of gauze and wets several cloths.
I remember sitting on a bench in the training center back home, gritting my teeth but otherwise showing nothing as Enobaria dressed a wound that she may or may not have inflicted. It seemed like every few weeks or days I found myself staring down at my hands as her rough hands applied ointment and what not to various cuts and scrapes.
A smile almost appears as I compare Katniss' light touch to Enobaria's heavy pats, and the almost inaudible sharp intake of air that the girl behind me makes with the guffaw that my mentor made as she saw the size of the wound and searched my face eagerly for signs that I was in pain. Of course, I never gave her the privilege of seeing her star pupil acting like a weak idiot.
"It's not too bad…" She trails off and I feel another bandage being peeled off of a blood-covered patch of skin. When she dabs at it with a wet cloth, I can feel a faint stinging through the fading numbness that the pain-killer brought.
"Is it opposite day? First Clove tells me that the meat tastes good, now you're lying about the severity of my injuries." I smirk. Then knowing that she and Clove just wanted to make sure that I was alright, I quickly flash a playful smile in Katniss' direction and am rewarded with her scowl loosening a bit.
As the effect of the syringe slowly vanishes she dabs away all the blood, and I allow myself to wince once as water seeps into the wound on my back that seems to be the deepest, from the feel of it. Then Katniss retrieves a tub of something from her backpack, and when she brings it over I see that it is the burn ointment that Enobaria sent in a few days ago. She unscrews the cap and applies a coat of it with her finger onto the cut on my shoulder. It stings for a moment before bringing cool relief.
"That's a good idea…" I murmur as the coolness takes effect and she wraps bandages around my chest and arms. "Thank you."
…
"Thank you." Cato says as he visibly relaxes. I tie the last knot on a bandage, and then rinse out the blood from the cloths in the stream.
"Damn it!" I quickly turn at the sound of Cato's urgent voice. He is muttering curses over and over under his breath and looks annoyed.
"What's wrong?" I ask.
"We should have taken Lover Boy's armor. It would have been so useful." He is frowning and still swearing softly.
Now that I think about it, taking Peeta's armor would have probably been the sensible thing to do. But I my thoughts had been so consumed with worry that I hadn't even considered the idea at the time. And now it was most likely gone, unless they dropped it from the hovercraft once Peeta's body had been picked up, it's happened a few times in previous years when a valuable sponsor gift is found on a dead body.
"I'll go check, if you want." Clove offers. "Ha, told you he doesn't always act like a wall." She directs the second part of her statement towards me, and I roll my eyes.
"Yeah, go. And what was that about a wall?" Cato arches an eyebrow, and Clove scrambles up and runs into the trees.
The sun is just rising, and a pale orange hue washes over the meadow. And we are alone, for the umpteenth time since we've entered the arena. I think about how easily he launched into battle last night, fighting like a wolf, merciless and quick. He is a killer, someone who's trained for their entire life for these moments to shine. And shine he has. After watching the annual Hunger Games throughout my life, I know that sponsors and individuals alike support the tributes that are strong physically and mentally. I can only imagine how much support Cato has riled up so far, with his annoyingly irresistible personality and good looks, combined with those merciless eyes and cold strength.
I'm not sure which side of him I should hold on to and believe, the cold expression that pushes all attempts to get past away, the conceited smirking side, or the rare part of him that actually acts like a normal person.
"Very well, just continue ignoring me while I try to get your attention." The voice is distant, as if coming in a dream, and I quickly snap out of my thoughts and turn towards Cato, who is looking at me expectantly.
"What?" He must have been calling my name for quite a while now.
"Did you really not care for Lover Boy at all?" If it were anybody else, I would assume that they were jealous, but Cato's probably just curious. A small smirk is flicking over his face, as if he is deciding whether or not to hold it out. I decide to play his card by acting all elusive and not answering the question at first.
"Why, are you jealous?" I send him a hopefully convincing mysterious glance.
"That's another thing to add to your wish list," he smirks, and I drop the mystery act and find myself rolling my eyes.
He continues casually, "No, I was just worried that you'd sink into depression or something."
Yeah right. I send him a question of my own, making sure that I don't give away anything in my tone. It's harder than I thought, with me usually being blunt and to the point. For a moment I grudgingly give credit to Cato for his ability to hide his true feelings.
"And I'm apparently 'taken' by a certain somebody…" I pause and tilt my head and send a pointing glare towards Cato, and he returns it with another smirk.
"I only said that to see what his expression would be." The same easy smile is on his face, and I wish that I could either believe or reject his words, but it's impossible to tell. God, he is so infuriating sometimes.
"So did you get the reaction that you wanted?" I snarl as I feel my face fall. And there I was, thinking that he actually meant that stuff. Or maybe he did. I frown at him.
.
"God. I really need to stop upsetting you…sorry." He brings a hand to his face and sighs. The sun has appeared over the trees now, but Clove left only a few minutes ago.
"How can I know that you're not just acting? Don't apologize." I spit out, getting up. I walk away from him and stand by the stream, looking down at a fish fighting it's way up the current.
"Katniss, I'm seriously sorry. Please…" I don't look at him but hear him getting up. The fish is slipping between two rocks now, still swimming furiously to try to get to its destination. Like the way I've been trying so hard to try to achieve the impossible by trying to break through that icy wall.
"Please what? Please believe what you say when you can obviously lie without second though?" I growl as he moves towards me.
Then Cato is at my ear, behind me. I bite my lip and try to ignore his warm breath on my cheek. I am not going to fall for this trick again, not when everything seems to be part of his little game.
"It's the way I am." Cato murmurs, a hint of sadness in the statement. I turn my head slightly and find him staring at me with those bright blue eyes, the same wistful expression in them.
"Then change," I say.
He chuckles and lets out a long breath. "That's on my wishlist."
.
Then so fast that I don't have time to react, he moves one hand to my waist and keeps it there while his other hand grabs my chin lightly, simultaneously turning my body around to face him.
"Hmm…you're not blushing. That's good." He says absentmindedly.
I only have time to blink before he leans in and mashes his lips against mine, holding me in place with his arms. After two seconds, Cato tilts his head so that our noses aren't in the way. I close my eyes as he continues holding out the kiss, gradually lightening the intensity until finally I feel him pull away lightly.
"You suck at kissing. Seriously." He smirks, quickly placing a little one on my lips.
I stare at him and his confident eyes, still recovering from the sudden turn of events. One moment he's teasing me and the next…
And then I know what I need to say. I know what the ultimate question is.
"Who...are you?"
His smirk falters and something enters his eyes, something other than total confidence. Then Cato regains his composure and that easy smile is back, although his eyes are still filled with sadness, regret even.
"I don't know. I really don't know anymore, Katniss."
I let him squeeze me to his chest and stay still as he sighs quietly. Because quite frankly, I don't think that anyone knows who Cato really is. He is lost in himself.
...
A/N: Hopefully this chapter seemed better than my previous ones to you guys. Anyways, next chapter we'll get into the unfortunate Cornucopia scene in which I will probably start crying as I write.
Please leave a review with comments, critique, thoughts, or suggestions. All of them are greatly appreciated, and I will try to reply to as many as I can. I might not be able to update until a week later or more, since I want to write the next chapter to the best of my ability, but I must tell you that I would be immensely happy if my story reached 1000 reviews by the last chapter. Knowing that there are people who enjoy reading my work is the greatest reward that I could ever receive in return for the hours spent on this. Much love, -Risa.
EDIT: I don't think that I'm going to update until about two weeks pass, or until I get 900 reviews. I'm just tired and need to think up some ideas for new fanfics. -.-