A/N: Here's another chapter's worth! :D We're trying to pace the story out. Because we have like 200,000 words that we could post at once…but then you'd all be like WHERE'S MORE and there wouldn't be any… Woops. ENJOY. (By the by, this chapter starts with Cato. Not Peeta. Direct continuation of last chapter. ;D)

The air continues getting colder and colder as we speak, so I pull the cover of the sleeping bag back over my legs and part of my torso. It looks thin, but it's actually pretty warm. "So...how's watch anyway?" ~

"Boring." I sigh. "No one's stupid enough to want to come near this camp anyway." ~

"I could probably take out anyone who comes near here. It can't hurt to have watch, though. What have you been doing the entire time anyway? It seems boring." ~

Thinking about you. "Honestly? Going through my life and trying to remember little things from before the Reaping...so I don't go insane here. Things that remind me of my old life." I wasn't lying, either. I had been thinking about Cato, too. But I was afraid of dying. Or going crazy. I wanted to stay me here. ~

"At least you had a life before the Reaping." ~

"What do you mean?" ~

I sigh heavily before continuing. "Almost my entire life has been dedicated to these Games. I had almost no time for fun. When I did have fun, it was when I was much younger, but I don't remember much from that time. You didn't have to train." ~

That had to be horribly confusing. Having your entire life dedicated to something, only to realize it wasn't really for anything. "You didn't go to school or anything?" ~

"That's pretty much what school was. I mean, we learned and stuff..." Well, others learned. I just didn't care for school. "But a lot of it was for the Hunger Games." ~

"Like...weapons and stuff?" That seemed so bizarre. "I know that the career Districts trained, but I didn't know that it basically was your whole lives." ~

"Yeah. I was top of the class and everything, so it would be pretty disappointing to everyone if I lost." I say. "What about school for you?" ~

"Meh, pretty normal. Numbers, history, reading and writing, trivial things. They didn't really care as long as you weren't an imbecile, because most people had a set path for their lives. If your family owned a business, when you turned eighteen, you'd work there permanently. If not, and you were a boy, you got sent into the mines, and if you were a girl, you started doing housework for people, maid type jobs like that." I sigh, thinking about back home. "I was lucky. I mean, I'm only sixteen now, but I wouldn't have had to go to the mines because of the bakery...I'm supposed to turn seventeen in about three months. I would've gotten more responsibility at the bakery." I smile thinking about it. "As opposed to my dad having to watch over me all the time. But, I'm obviously not making it to November First, so that's out the window." ~

Another awkward moment of him referencing his inevitable death. "What if you did make it to November?" ~

"Then I'd actually be allowed to work in the bakery on my own, like I dreamed when I was a kid." I laugh a little. "It's stupid sounding, I know, but it's just how I was raised. Right now, all I do is decorate cakes and bake things with my dad's supervision. But then, I'd be responsible enough to run the place on my own for the day like my brothers do. Then, when I'd turn eighteen next year, I'd be able to watch over the place for days at a time. Really feel like I was a part of the place, you know?" I glance over to him. "I must be boring you to death." ~

"You're not." I reassure him. "I like hearing about baked goods." ~

I laugh a little. "Thanks for humoring me, at least. It just sucks, you know. All of this. The Games. I mean, most people live to be at least four times as old as I am now." I realize I'm dampening the mood, so I add on, "Plus, the morning of the Reaping, I didn't even get to eat breakfast because I slept in. So I'd just like some bread or something from home." I laugh again at myself. ~

He laughs a lot for someone who is so convinced that he's going to die. I guess he's just living it up while he can...that's new. Most people I know would be in hysterics if they knew they were going to die. Not him. He's different. "You seem to really like bread." ~

"I don't think I've ever had a meal in my life where bread hasn't been a part of it, so...It's a forced love?" I smile at him. "I like baking. It's not like it was something I was dragged into because it's the family business and all." ~

"That can't be anything but a forced love, with a name like Peeta...as in the bread?" I try my best not to laugh, but it's too much to handle. "Cute." ~

I blush only slightly when he calls me cute, but then regain composure. "I'm used to it. Not like I haven't gotten the joke about a million times." I shake my head, smiling. "Except yours was probably the most kind mannered. It's not spelled the same way, so I don't see the big deal here." ~

"It's not a big deal. Why are people mean about it? It could've been worse." ~

"People were always mean about everything." I shrug. "I just learn to ignore it." ~

Everything? I'm really not getting why people hate him so much. He's not that bad. "Well, I'm not being too mean to you. Or if I am, I don't mean it...I'm just bad with words sometimes." ~

"And if I seem too touchy, I apologize. I just take everything far too seriously. I mean, you saw me with your sarcasm earlier." ~

"Apologizing again? Really?" I laugh. "You're sorry for everything." ~

"It was just in advance. I'll try not to in the future." I roll my eyes at him. "See? A guy who's bad with words and a guy who takes things too seriously...Match made in heaven, right?" I joke. ~

"A match?" I raise my eyebrows and laugh. "Like best friends?" ~

"I thought we were 'barely friends' in your book." I give him a suspicious glance. He could've taken that in the wrong way, and I'm glad he didn't. ~

"I'm joking. We only met formally yesterday. That barely gives us enough time to consider each other friends, let alone best friends." ~

"Of course." Barely enough time to have fallen madly in love with a straight guy, Peeta. ~

Nothing I say goes right with this kid. "Fine. We're friends. Not barely friends. We are. Better?" ~

"You don't have to give in to my whims just because I pout over things." I laugh slightly. "But that is a bit better." ~

"I'm not giving in." He already poured his heart out to me. He even managed to dig something out of me. I suppose that makes us friends now. Goddamn it. "And good. Your sadness was really starting to bother me." ~

I almost apologize, but stop myself. "So...what time do you think it is?" ~

"A half an hour or forty-five minutes after I last asked, probably." Yeah, after all this, I'm definitely wide awake now. "Are you even tired at all?" ~

"No, not really." I'm actually exhausted, but I couldn't sleep even if I tried. Not when I could be talking to him. ~

"Oh, you look kinda tired. You're even fidgety and everything, like you're out of it or something." ~

Oh great, am I that transparent? "I'm just nervous. You know, fight to the death and all." I lie. I'm not nervous about dying. I'm scared, but if I was showing fear, I'd probably just cry. ~

"You weren't doing that before." I point out. If anything, our conversation was distracting him from fighting to the death, as opposed to when he was alone and all he could think about was dying. ~

"Maybe it's just starting to hit me, okay?" I snap slightly, trying to hide my real reasoning. ~

I'm taken aback at his sudden temper change. "Sorry." His favorite word. "It just seemed like something else was bothering you." ~

"N..no." I stumble on my words stupidly. "Th..there's nothing else." ~

"Come on, we're friends." I put emphasis on the word because it sounds foreign to me. I'm more of a loner type person, so I haven't ever really played nice with others, and this is new to me. "You can tell me." ~

"There's nothing to be told, Cato." I sigh. "Just drop it, okay?" ~

"No!" I whine. "I don't let things go like that. Do you really want to die full of secrets?" I sit up and move closer to him and put my arm around him to show that we're friends. "Come on." ~

I feel his arm go around me, and my face gets extraordinarily warm. "I'd much rather that, yes. I'd rather die my peaceful death with no one knowing." I say honestly, wanting to stand up and move out of his embrace, but at the same time, wanting to stay there forever. ~

"Then why don't I just kill you now?" I don't laugh. That would ruin the whole idea of getting it out of him. ~

"Go ahead." I don't laugh either. "I'd really prefer that, to be honest with you." He can't know. No one can ever know. "It's going to happen sooner or later, right?" I glance around for his sword, not remaking eye contact with the handsome tribute who's arm is still wrapped around me. ~

"Are you fucking kidding me?" He's practically asking me to kill him! Which I can't do now, because I'd feel guilty for the rest of forever. I really don't want to be the one who does him in. "I'm not killing you. As much as I hate to admit it, I can't." ~

"Why?" I want him to say it's because he loves me or something like that...but I know that isn't happening. But I still want to know. ~

"I can't kill a friend. Forget it." I sigh. "I know I seem like some bloodthirsty killing machine, but I'm not that bad, like you said. I won't do it." ~

By this point, the feeling of his arm around me is driving me insane, so I stand quickly to avoid his eyes. "I didn't think you were. But I'd really rather that than tell you. You'd be doing me a favor." ~

I stand up and grab his wrist tightly. "Maybe I'll just kill myself." I won't. "Then, you'll be responsible for the death of your only friend." ~

No, no. This can't be happening. Either way, I lose him. "No." I feel the tears start welling up. "Please, no." I turn to him, grabbing both his wrists so he doesn't run off to do the deed. "You can't." The tears finally fall down my face, a dead giveaway that there was more to this than what it all seemed. "You can't have me make that decision. Please, don't do that. Please, Cato." I'm sobbing at this point. Like an idiot. "Please, don't go." I feel my grip on him get tighter as the prospect of him dying becomes more and more clear in my mind. ~

"Whoa, what's your problem?" I rip my wrists from his grip and look at his face. Did I hit a sore spot with my "only friend" comment? "I'm not really going to, geez." ~

I immediately pull my eyes away and turn from him, quickly wiping the tears from my face. "Maybe I should just go." ~

"No." I grab his arms and hold him there, facing me. "If you'd just tell me what your problem is, we could forget about this." ~

"Why can't you just drop it?" I hiss, keeping my eyes away from him as much as I can. "It's not a big deal. Besides, if I told you, you'd probably want to kill me anyway." ~

"I don't want to kill anyone! I told you that! If I don't have to, I won't." My tone is sincere. "You started it. I won't drop it." ~

"No, you started it by pointing out my fidgeting. I'm just nervous, okay? It's no big deal. Nothing of great concern to you." ~

"You started crying and begged me not to kill myself." I say. "Which I wasn't going to do anyway. Why can't you just tell me? We barely even know each other, so why would it matter that I know?" ~

"Because no matter what I do now, I'm losing you." If I tell him, he's definitely going to kill me, and think he's a bad person...losing that laughing boy I fell for. If I don't, he won't talk to me. But I'd rather that laughing boy still exist outside of my life. ~

"No matter what, even if I wasn't pestering you about this, one of us would be gone by the end of the Games anyway." I remind him. "So can you please just tell me?" I feel kinda bad about my persistence in finding out why it made him cry so much, but I can't help it. I need to know now. ~

"You really want to know? It means that damn much to you?" This can only end badly. ~

"If you don't mind telling me, then yeah." Chill out a little bit. Don't seem so nosy. If he doesn't want to tell you, he doesn't have to. ~

I pull myself out of his grasp and begin walking away. "You know, I just thought about running right now. Running into the woods and killing myself with your sword." ~

Was that it? "What about that painless death you wanted so much? You know, with the nightlock or whatever?" ~

"That was, if it came down to that and I had that luxury. But I was just so terrified of telling you, I considered suicide." I look at my feet. "I mean, better sooner than later, before I get too attached, right?" ~

I look at him and take a step closer. "What do you mean attached?" ~

I take a step away. "Don't you get it?" I turn to him. "I'm in love with you, Cato. I'm gay, and I'm horribly, desperately, pathetically in love with you." That was it. It was out there. All of it. ~

A/N: I'm loving all of the feedback on this! Thank you to everyone! (To those who are confused on the POV, it really can't be changed much because most of the story is written. But you get used to it, I promise!) Review! Thanks!