Chapter 15: The Hunger Games
Before I can say anything he crashes his lips against mine. He roughly grabs the side of my face and angles it so he can kiss me deeper.
His lips feel hot and angry, but inviting. And against my better judgment, I find myself kissing him back.
He closes the small distance between our bodies so he's pressed up against me, leaving me no room to escape. Not that I want to go anywhere anyway.
My stomach tightens in a strange way and I squeak in surprise when I feel his tongue lightly trace my lower lip, begging for entry. Deciding to go along, I part my lips slightly.
He lightly flicks my tongue with his own and leans into me, causing the back of my head to lightly hit the wall.
His hand trails down to my hip while the other is still cupping the side of my face. Not knowing what to do with my arms I just let them hang stupidly at my sides.
"You're mine." He says against my lips.
"Yours." I murmur.
He breaks the kiss and I quickly avert my gaze to the floor. My cheeks burn and I try desperately to control my rapid breathing. Cato's breathing is also labored, but mine just comes out as embarrassing gasps.
I can feel his eyes on me and I wonder when he's going to say something. The seconds pass by like excruciating hours and I find myself fiddling with a caught string on the end of my shirt.
"Well this is awkward." He says after a minute of uncomfortable silence.
I don't reply and continue looking at my feet.
"Are you going to say anything?" He asks.
"No." I mumble.
He laughs lightly. "You just did." He points out.
I roll my eyes at the dirt.
"Sorry about that, I guess I might have over reacted a little." He says while rocking back and forth on the balls of his feet.
I finally look up at him. I can tell his anger has died down by the sudden softness in his eyes.
"A little?" I question skeptically.
"Well, maybe a lot." He says while rubbing the back of his neck nervously. We stare at each other for a moment, not knowing what to say.
I subconsciously bite my lower lip, which seems to amuse Cato to no end. A smirk slowly spreads across his face.
"Do I make you nervous?" He asks slyly.
"No." I answer quickly. Too quickly in fact because he sees right through me. Of course he makes me nervous. He makes me nervous all the time, not that I'll ever admit that to him.
"Clove?"
"What?"
"You're bad at lying." He says.
"I am not." I say as my face turns scarlet for the second time in less then ten minutes.
"Yes you are." He says with a chuckle.
"And you're bad at..." I search my brain for an answer. "Containing your jealously." I say.
He rasies his eyebrows. "I already knew that." He says.
We both go quiet again.
"Let's just go to your house." I finally say.
He nods. "Ok, just don't bump into anyone one on the way." He mumbles.
"Oh, well you never know." I say.
His eyes narrow as he grabs my hand and intertwines our fingers.
"Ha ha, funny." He says sarcastically.
...
We walk back out to the market and weave through the aisles till we find the main road.
Occasionally I feel Cato's eyes on me, but other than that we walk in silence. I briefly wonder why I never saw the T.V interviews for the tributes but I quickly push the thought away.
A feeling of anxiety bubbles beneath my skin as I think about watching the Games with Cato. He probably won't even flinch when the blood bath starts at the cornucopia. Unlike me who resorts to covering my eyes with my hands and peeking through my fingers when the noise has died down. I'm completely and utterly pathetic. I scowl at myself and kick a small stone in front of me and watch as it skips off the side of the road.
"When's your birthday?"
"Huh?" I question as I turn my head to face him.
"I said when's your birthday?"
"That's random." I tell him.
He shrugs. "You didn't answer the question."
"Next weekend." I mumble.
Cato smiles slightly. I can practically see the gears turning in his head.
"No."
"What?"
"I said no."
"I didn't say anything."
"I know." I say.
"Then why did you-" He starts off slowly.
"Because I don't want anything." I say as I kick another pebble.
"Oh come on! That's not fair!" He whines.
"Life isn't fair." I tell him.
"No shit." He mumbles.
I scoff. "Like you had a hard life, everything you want is handed to you on a silver platter." "Scratch that, a gold platter." I say.
"It's no fun living alone." He says with a slight frown. "What good is a mansion when you're all alone in it?" He asks.
"Oh I don't know." I say as I pretend to think. "Maybe comfortable living?" I reply.
He scowls at me. "Let's get back to the real issue, why don't you want a present?"
I shrug. "There's nothing I want." I tell him.
"Too bad, you're getting one anyway." He says with a smile.
I groan and shake my head.
"No way." I say.
"Whatever."
...
We turn down the road to Victor's Village and I can't help but think back to when I was here last.
And how I woke up, in his bed, next to him. I feel the familiar heat crawl up the side of my face.
I sigh quietly. That was a good day. I think dreamily. My eyes widen and I mentally slap myself for thinking like one of those girls who acts all lovey-dovey.
Because that is not who I am.
Well, who am I then?
I'm Clove. Just Clove. A girl from district two with no parents and no friends- except Cato. He doesn't count. I think.
"Clove! Clooooove!" He says in a sing song voice.
"What?" I say as I pull back in to reality.
"You stopped walking." He says.
"I did?"
"Yeah, are you alright?" He asks.
"Oh, yeah I'm fine." I tell him.
He looks unconvinced as we continue walking up his drive way.
There's a small hole in my left shoe and I flinch slightly when it comes in contact with a particularly hot section of cement, causing me to stumble slightly. Cato grips my arm and steadies me.
"You sure you're all right?" He asks.
"I'm fine." I tell him.
He shakes his head slightly and continues walking up the path to his house, sill holding onto my arm like I might fall any second.
When we reach the large oak door he lets go of me so he can open it.
I watch him as he reaches into his pocket and pull out a small key. He steps in front of me so he can unlock the door and after a few seconds, opens it and gestures for me to go inside.
I walk in and look behind me to make sure he follows. He steps inside and closes the door, locking it behind him.
Wordlessly he takes my hand and pulls me to the couch. I watch him as he grabs a black remote off a side table and aims it at a painting on the wall. The paining rotates to reveal a sleek black T.V.
He presses a red button and the T.V flickers to life. A image of non other than Claudius Templesmith and Caesar Flickerman wearing his trademark blue suit with matching hair and eyebrows smiles at us through the screen.
"Welcome to the 73rd annual Hunger Games! Now we're just about to start, but before we do let's take a look at our live audience!"
The camera focuses on a crowd of at least one hundred thousand screaming and cheering as the count down begins on one of the many jumbo screens. A news anchor from the Capitol begins interviewing one of the sponsors who has snake like fangs and red eyes.
"Uhhgg." I say in disgust when the man begins talking, revealing a forked tongue.
"You got that right." Cato says, crinkling his nose as if he's smelled something bad.
"I hate snakes." He says.
"How come?" I ask him.
"When I was little, this lady from the capitol visited my parents, she was covered in scales and I've hated snakes since." He says.
"Well that's understandable." I tell him.
The voice of Caesar Flickerman pulls me back to the television.
"Now! Let's take the camera back over to the arena!"
The scene changes to a snowy mountain range with a thick forest. All twenty four tributes rise on to their mental platforms as the booming voice of Claudius Templesmith begins the ten second count down.
"Ten, nine, eight, seven, six, five, four, three, two, one." The gong sounds and I watch as everyone makes a bee line for the cornucopia. The snow is deeper then some expected and as a result a few trip. They quickly scramble back to their feet and continue running.
A career from district one gets a hold of a spear and quickly drives it through a younger boy's stomach.
I cover my hands over my eyes when they boy let's out an agonizing scream.
Think of something happy. I tell myself. I try and try but every time I get a hold of a good memory someone let's out a scream or begs their killer to spare them.
I would be lying if I said death doesn't scare me. Because it scares the hell out of me. Sure, I can kill, but not for fun. Wait, scratch that, I felt pretty damn good after I killed my father, despite the circumstances. I mull over the subject for a little while, squeezing my eyes shut tighter every time I hear a canon being fired.
I peek through my fingers to see Cato leaning forward, completely absorbed by the television.
I was right. He's not even flinching. People are being brutal murdered before him and he's acting like he's watching a football game. He must be immune to this.
I hesitantly look back at the screen. A image of a young girl around twelve or thirteen is shown carefully crouching behind the side of the cornucopia. She cautiously walks around the side only to meet a dagger to the heart by another girl. He eyes widen as she collapses to the ground. A canon fires a few seconds later, confirming the kill.
I whimper slightly at the way her dead body is spread out, in a unnatural position- as if she's in pain.
Cato wraps his arm around my shoulder and pulls me closer to him. I hide my face in the corner of his shoulder.
I've said it before and I'll say it again: I'm pathetic, hiding from the Hunger Games like a five year old. I don't know why but I do this every year.
Maybe because a few years ago I started having nightmares every time after I would watch the Games. Horrible vivid dreams where I take the place of the district two tribute. Sometimes I would wake up screaming, still unaware of the fact that the terror I just witnessed was nothing more than a creation of my own mind.
When you think about it, killing is easy, all you have to do is pretend that your victim doesn't have a family, or friends, or feelings. The problem is that everyone wants to get out, even if there's no one worth getting out for, which means they'll fight back. That's the only down side of being reaped, besides that I don't have a problem with winning.
"Are you scared?" Cato whispers to me.
No shit Sherlock.
"No." I say from the safety of his shoulder. It comes out a little higher pitched than I intended.
"Yeah right, your whimpering is louder then their screams for mercy." He says.
I frown and look up at him.
"Don't look at me like that."
"Like what?" I say as I automatically cringe when I hear another canon going off.
"All sad and stuff." He says.
"Sorry." I mumble.
He grabs the remote off the arm of the couch and hits the mute button. I let out a quiet sigh of relief.
"There, now you don't have to listen to it." He says somewhat softer.
I nod and look up at him one more time before closing my eyes.
I focus on where I am: in a very nice, very safe house. Nothing here can hurt me.
Cato casually rest his arm against me and I feel as if a huge weight has been lifted off my shoulders. I take a deep breath and exhale slowly.
Everything is going to be ok...Or is it?
I know it says chapter 16 at the top, I'm too stupid to fix it :(
For the person that asked if my new story will be modern day AU...HOW THE HELL DID YOU KNOW?! WHAT ARE YOU A MIND READER OR SOMETHING? /(0-0)\
Yes it WILL be AU.
I personally love writing modern day AU, and I'm practically squealing with delight that you asked that!
Also, they are going to be reaped at the next reaping, next year, I have to fast forward a lot of time but I'll do it through out a couple of chapters.
For the person that said it's moving to quickly... I know exactly what you mean. I didn't tell you all this but I made slight tweaks to the other chapters. I added a few things things, (don't bother going back to check).
Reviewers, you are my gods, every time I go to bed I think 'I wonder if someone else is thinking about my story'...
Fun fact: The idea for this fanfic can to me in a dream,(Along with the murder scene in chapter two) The idea for my new modern day AU clato fic also came it me in a dream, you should have seen the smile on my face when I woke up! /(O-O)\
GO TO MY BIO AND VOTE ON WEATHER OR NOT I SHOULD WRITE A MODERN DAY AU CLATO FIC. (after you review...LOL)
I PROBABLY WILL ANYWAY BUT IF A LOT OF PEOPLE WANT ME TO I WILL BE REALLY ENCOURAGED TO GO THROUGH WITH IT!