𝐆𝐋𝐎𝐑𝐘 𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐆𝐎𝐑𝐄 ▸ HUNGER GAMES [ 1 ]

TWENTY THREE

Cato and I spend the evening curled up in front of the dying embers of the fire. I'm sprawled across his lap, the two of us leant up against one of the only crates that managed to survive the explosion. His fingertips trace lazy circles on my collarbone, and I rest my head against his chest. It dawns on me that this could be every night for us now. Once we're back home in 2, my family will join his in the Victor's Village, up in the mountains. Our houses will be only moments from each other's, a short walk across the road. We will be able to go on our date to the garden, after all. And countless others after that.

I fall asleep in his arms, my head tucked beneath his chin, and by the time I wake it is already morning. By some miracle, Cato has stayed awake on watch, but he looks on the verge of exhaustion. I scold him for not waking me up earlier, and order him to take a nap whilst I prepare the last of our food supplies for breakfast.

Marvel's pack disappeared along with him, so the only provisions remaining are those Cato and I have been carrying around between us. It springs to my mind that neither of us would really be much use at hunting. Glimmer and her bow were the most useful in that respect, but she is gone, and her weapon is no doubt in the possession of another tribute by now. Come to mention it, Cato's earlier suspicion that Katniss' hidden talent might be archery is looking more and more likely by the second. How she came into that talent is not important. What is important is whether or not it could transform her into a suddenly fierce adversary, and hinder any hope of a potential future we may have back in 2.

I still can't figure out whether the rule change would be enough to drive her to tracking down her District partner. No doubt the Capitol ate up their star-crossed lovers story, and Peeta's decision to go back for her after the Tracker Jacker attack proves that it must have been real, at least on his part. But the girl on fire didn't look embarrassed or even pleased when the baker's son professed his undying love for her on live television. She just looked confused. Either way, District 12's formerly doomed couple have nothing on Cato and me. The heir to the Hadley throne and his underdog rival - the arrogant killing machine and deadly knife thrower, secretly in love.

I wait until midday to wake him. Leaning over his form, sprawled out across the tarp beneath the shelter, I press a soft kiss to his lips and watch him stir. His mouth quirks up into a perfect smile that makes my heart jump. He seems to consider me for a moment, knelt beside him on the grass, my curtain of dark hair tickling the skin of his neck where it hangs down. "I could get used to this." He nods slowly, staring up into my eyes.

It's almost comical how much of a natural he is at this kind of stuff. It strikes me that Cato must have attracted a lot more female attention than just mine – that kind of thing comes with the territory of being devastatingly handsome and part of a famous victor's family - and has probably had tons of girlfriends during his years at the Academy. A pang of jealousy runs through me which I try my best to push past. That night in the apartment, when he first admitted how much he hated the fact we'd ended up in the Capitol in the same year, he'd also said I'd been part of his plan all along.

I'm not sure when he intended on telling me, originally, but I'm coming to realise just how much pain and heartache he would have saved both of us if he had. All of his crowd of friends must have known he was going to volunteer. Perhaps one of the girls would have taken my spot if they knew Cato would be going into the arena with his girlfriend, rather than just another student from the Academy. I know plenty of them wanted the spot, I could see them all inching closer whilst I was waiting up on stage, cogs whirring in their heads as they considered whether or not to step up. Remembering Aviva Grigson's face amongst them, my mind jumps back to the first time we saw Finch on the train's television.