Careers Don't Love

Chapter Five

Katniss POV

It's night but sleep seems to evade me.

The spacious room seems stifling, the silk sheets suffocating. I throw off the blankets and lie staring up at the ceiling.

How many more nights do I have left?

I close my eyes and swallow hard, trying to push the fear back. I knew what I was getting into when I volunteered for the Games. I knew it would be a fight for my survival and I accepted it.

I take a shaky breath and slip my feet off the bed, pulling my black nightgown around me and heading out of the room soundlessly. All is quiet as I walk down the hallway, the carpet soft against my bare feet.

I push against the door at the end and it swings open, revealing a staircase that leads up to another door. I pull my gown tighter about my shoulders as I step through the door at the top and the cold night air blows my hat around my face.

There's a sound of twinkling chimes and I walk towards the edge of the rooftop garden, entranced by the sights of the Capitol below me.

The air is cool on my face and I sigh, leaning against the wall and tilting my head up to the stars. It's rather strange to find a place so beautiful and tranquil in the bloodthirsty, violent Capitol.

I swing around as the door opens behind me, my back pressing against cool metal.

It's Cato.

Why am I not surprised?

It feels like ever since I've arrived here, our paths have crossed again and again - as if fate is pushing us together on purpose.

Then again, I don't believe in fate.

"What're you doing here?" I blurt out.

"I have as much right as you to be here," he tells me, his voice devoid of any emotion. I wonder if he's remembering our fight earlier.

His eyes shine blue in the moonlight.

They're quite a unique shade of blue, I think suddenly. A piercing shade of crystal that feels as if they can see into your soul.

Stop thinking about his eyes! What's wrong with you, Katniss?

"I'll go then," I tell him. "Leave you alone."

I walk away from him and I'm almost at the door when he speaks.

"Don't."

Cato POV

The house is dark.

I don't know where my father is. Drinking again probably, staggering home at four in the morning.

I wonder if he'll do it again today.

Alex lies on the bed next to me, equally soundless. He's awake - I know he is - but we've both learned that it's better to pretend we're asleep when we hear the sound of his booted footsteps down the hall.

Maybe we'll escape then.

Tomorrow is the reaping.

The first one where she won't be here.

No pancakes in the morning with smiley faces made out of syrup, no new clothes ironed to perfection, no one to fuss over us and defend us from Dad.

We're on our own now.

I wake up in the middle of the night abruptly.

The screaming stopped when I was 10, thanks to my father. Feelings make you weak.