Cato’s P.O.V.
She remembers. Katniss Everdeen, the girl of my dreams, remembers everything. Wait, that means she remembers everything.
“Katniss?” I pull her closer to me in the salty waves of the ocean.
“Yes?”
“Do you… do you remember what happened?”
“What are you talking about?”
“Before you lost your memory, when you dressed up and teased me. Do you remember what happened afterwards?”
She tilts her head to the right slightly, deep in thought. Then realisation floods her face. But she wipes it away, leaving her face a clean slate.
But I can see the fear in her grey eyes. Fear of what happened, fear of what might happen again, fear of me. Her delicate hand flutters to her forehead where the slight dent is and tears cloud her vision.
Her hand stays on her injury as the tears overflow.
“Katniss-“
“NO!” she yells. “No. Don’t touch me. I’m sorry Cato. I can’t do this.” She says softer.
And she runs. She runs all the way to her bag. She runs all the way up the hill towards the road. She runs all the way out of sight.
Katniss runs out of my life.
