Forever [Prim/Cato]

Chapter 7 - The Teenager

Until then, all I can do is spend every waking moment with my girl.

We're only a few days away from the reaping of the 92nd Games, and this year, I have a strange feeling in my gut. Willow is the same age as I was when I was reaped...

All of a sudden, a series of yelling pulls me out of my thoughts before I let them get to far. I'd been making breakfast.

"Mum, I can't find my training gear!"

I sigh to myself and let out a chuckle. "Alright Willow, I'll be there in a second!" I yell back.

Just as I drop my towel, another voice yells for me.

"Kitten, I can't find my other black sock! I need my black sock!"

I can't help but laugh at the similarity between a father and his daughter. It's like the two have some weird telepathy where they always need the same thing at the same time.

I have to halt cooking breakfast to help them out. If I don't get to the two soon... bad things will happen.

I first go to Willow since she's closest to the kitchen. She's in her bedroom, tearing the whole thing apart looking for her gear. And to think this room was spotless just thirty minutes ago. She loves to keep it clean, but messes it up just as much as she cleans it. I know it's time for her to start doing her own chores (which she does, even without me asking her to), but now and again I'll go ahead and clean her room for her. Id gotten it done last night while she was out with Cato. It passes the time when I've got nothing to do.

Anyway, Willow is throwing around all of her clothes when I walk in. Her eyes glance up at me and she huffs loudly, but she doesn't stop throwing everything around.

"Momma we're leaving in five minutes! I need to find it! Dad won't let me go if I don't have it." Willow's blond hair is tousled all over her head in the messiest of ponytails. She is nowhere near being ready, but she cannot be late. She absolutely hates being late to anything, especially when she's doing something with her Daddy.

Willow still adores him to this day. Her love for him has yet to falter even slightly since she was our tiny little baby girl. It doesn't matter if she's in trouble, or if he doesn't let her do something. She pretends to be mad and then five seconds later she's jumping next to his side to snuggle up with her favorite man.

"Alright Willow, calm down." I place my hands on her shoulders to calm her down.

"But Momma---" Her face scrunched up like Cato's does when he's frustrated. Hell, she looks so much like him.

I interrupt her before she starts off on one of her pouty rants. "I washed your things yesterday night, but I didn't want to come in and wake you while you slept. They're folded in the laundry room."

Willow smiles beautifully, the blue-green in her eyes shining bright. She gives me a brief hug and is running out the door before I can blink. "Thanks, Mum."

I can't even let out a single breath before I hear...

"Rose! Where are my fucking socks?!"

I roll my eyes as I reach our bedroom and push the door open. I watch as Cato has resulted to putting on two different socks, one of them being one of mine. He's jumping up and down trying to put on the socks and his pants all at once.

As I laugh out loud, Cato turns to me and frowns. At almost 35, he has aged just as I expected. The features of his face have only strengthened, and the glow in his eyes has grown brighter. He's matured into a real man in his prime. However, it's not like we are that old, anyway. We did have Willow at a pretty young age. We can talk once we hit 50.