TWENTY THREE -
"Clove! Clove!"
I scramble up the bank frantically, clumps of grass coming free in my hands. My heart is threatening to burst from my ribcage. Two victors. Two victors. But that means that....
"Clove! Did you hear that?" Cato's voice calls across the plain, equal parts disbelieving and feverish.
"I heard it! I heard it Cato!" I shout, breaking into a run. He's on the other side of the clearing, edging closer by the second.
"Don't you get what this means?" He cheers.
"It-it means.." I begin, but my voice trails off into nothing as he finally draws near enough for me to see him properly. Every emotion I attempted to dispel in the lake fires back into my brain like bullets. All at once. Catching me completely unawares. With no reason to deny it anymore, the wave crests and crashes over me. The impact is like a stone wagon knocking me off the road.
I love him. I'm in love with Cato Hadley.
"It means we can go home. Both of us." A soft laugh drifts from his lips, eyes wide and astonished. He can't believe it. I can't believe it. We can both make it back to District 2. We can leave the arena, together.
And I love him.
There's only a short, brief moment of hesitation before all rational sense disappears. And then he is pulling me into his arms and his lips are on mine and all the barriers the threat of the arena has managed to build between us come crashing down around our feet. I melt into the kiss without consideration. Damn the Capitol citizens, who liken us to barbarians, praying for the blood we spill, and damn the Hadleys, who wish to be seen as such. Darius, Brutus.
Damn it. Damn all of it.
I presumed Cato would have at least some reservations, but I'm found to be blissfully mistaken. He holds me like I might dissolve into thin air, and kisses ferociously, tongue sliding into my mouth. This is not like our last kiss in the apartment, passionate but sweet. It's rough and messy and I'm burning under his touch. His hands tangle in my hair, still wet and clinging to my skin, and when his nails graze against the back of my neck I gasp against his lips. Desperate and delirious, his kiss makes up for every time we've held back, terrified of the consequences. Every night in the Games spent hoping the final day would never come, and all of a sudden it cannot come fast enough. Now that we can both go home.
When Cato reluctantly pulls away I'm dizzy and breathless, grinning brighter than the moon hanging in the night sky above our heads. His blue eyes are the warmest I've ever seen them, crinkled at the corners as he gazes down at me. "I love you, Clove."
I'm not at all surprised by how incredibly right it feels to say it back.
We stumble back to the dying remains of our fire, laughing and joking like schoolkids. When I sneakily elbow him in the ribs he sweeps me off my feet and throws me over his shoulder, cackling as I beat my fists against his back. Every remaining tribute is probably waiting in the trees to ambush us, and I can't disagree that now would be a perfect time. Acting like lovestruck teenagers for more time than necessary will almost certainly get us killed. Luckily, Claudius Templesmith's lifechanging announcement seems to have also filled us with desire to destroy the opposition as soon as possible.
With only four other tributes left to take down, victory is so close I can taste it. The thought of returning home, with a crown on my head and Cato by my side makes my heart soar. I can picture Loren's face as we step of the train, that knowing smile that tells me she's just waiting for me to admit defeat. That I was wrong, That Cato Hadley was flirting with me at the Academy, the night before the Reaping. Along with every day before that. Of course Loren was right. She always is.
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.
I'm still intrigued by whatever Cato shares with the mayor's daughter when we finally leave the camp at the cornucopia, and once we've moved into the woods I ask him. "I'm not trying to be weird or anything, but what's the deal with you and Aviva?"
Cato chuckles, throwing an arm around my shoulder that I instinctively curl into. "Aviva is my best friend. That girl knows everything. What, did you think we were dating or something?"
"Until you pretty much told me outright that you liked me, yes." I admit quietly.
"You know what, actually we did try and date at one point, a couple of years ago. But she broke it off. Said it was pointless." He says. His lip is caught between his teeth and the gesture catches me completely off guard. I'm not sure whether I want to slap him or kiss him. Being this goddamn attractive should be illegal.
"Why?" I ask.
He lets out a soft laugh under his breath. "One day we were waiting in line for a station at the Academy, and Aviva was trying to talk to me about some party we were supposed to be going to up at the lake." Of course – in the summer, the older students often hang around in the mountains behind the Academy. There's a spring fed pool up on one of the bigger ledges, clear blue and perfect for relaxing in the dusty heat. It's where my father took Loren and I to teach us how to swim, back when we were kids. I haven't been there in years, mostly because it's dominated by Cato and his group during the only months it's not frozen over.
"Anyway, I wasn't paying attention to her and she told me she'd given up and that there was no point in even trying because I was clearly preoccupied." He finishes.
"With what?" I laugh, but before the words have even fully left my mouth I know exactly what he is going to say next.
"Watching you throw. You'd just stepped up to the range. All these younger kids were stood around you watching with their jaws on the floor, and you didn't even bat an eyelid. It's like you had no idea you even had an audience." He stops and turns to face me, lifting a hand to brush my cheek. "It took you years to realise how good you are. I'll admit the day you turned up to weapons training I thought you'd last two seconds. But you sure as hell proved me wrong."
"Good." I whisper, leaning up on my tiptoes to plant a kiss on the smooth line of his jaw. His eyes flutter closed for a moment and he takes a slow breath out, bringing a satisfied grin to my face. I could never have dreamed of getting this kind of reaction out of Cato Hadley, not before we came to the Capitol. But I've been learning a lot recently, it seems. Including how to push every single one of Cato's buttons. It' seem he's not the only one who wouldn't mind getting used to this.
"So, you're claiming you already liked me back in the early days, and yet somehow we've spent the last three years insulting the hell out of each other.....care to explain that one?" I challenge as we continue through the forest. Both of us have our weapons drawn, but our guard is down. We know Finch isn't armed, and it's likely that Katniss is tied down helping her wounded District partner. I would have expected him to be dead by now, but no cannons have fired since Marvel, so he must still be hanging on somehow.
Cato sighs to himself, absentmindedly scratching the back of his neck. It's such an awkward gesture that I'm almost sure I just imagined it. I have never seen Cato Hadley look even mildly nervous, about anything. "Honestly, you terrified me." He confesses, and I scoff a laugh.
"No really! You scared the hell out of me!" He assures, running a hand through his hair. I reach out with my own to take hold of it, and he fixes me with a pointed look, one eyebrow raised. I stare up at him innocently, waiting.
"You were like this tiny ball of hostile energy that tore apart every rulebook in 2. People like you aren't supposed to place top in gradings and be the trainers' favourite. I guess I admired you for proving everyone wrong." He pauses, and our eyes meet for a split second before he continues. "And then you and your sister came up to introduce yourselves and something about the look in your eyes made me panic."
I'm laughing again. "Like what?"
"I had this sudden feeling that if we even attempted to be friends, you'd see through everything. The whole persona my dad was making me build up. That you'd break me down and see the anger, the blind rage and all the other things he'd ordered me to hide. It was easier to challenge you instead. I mean, it's not like it didn't work out." He jokes, and I look up at him just as his tongue darts out to swipe across his lower lip. I resist the urge to pull him back down for another kiss, but I'm sure he still clocks me staring.
"Even if I was completely oblivious to your attempts at flirting." I say.
"Don't blame me, you're the one who should listen to your sister more often." He raises his hands in mock surrender, chuckling.
I furrow my brows at him. "How did you know Loren thought you liked me?"
Cato just gives me a deadpan stare in answer.
Of course, I seem to forget that my sister is the most tactless girl in Panem.
AUTHOR'S NOTE -
Good morning, evening, afternoon, veenyxx at your service here to fulfil all your fluffy Clato needs because apparently it's the only thing the bitch is every going to write! Fr though I just wanted a cute little chapter of fluffy conversation until everything gets mad and destructive again. This is a little bit OOC I know and I'm sorry but hopefully you guys still enjoy it! Much love - Vee xx