Yours [Prim/Cato]

Chapter 53- Fine

The uncomfortable churning of my stomach wakes me up before the sun has even risen. After focusing in on the small alarm clock beside my bed, I double over as another wave of nausea hits me. Cato is sleeping soundly next to me, face buried into the pillows so that it seems like he can't breathe. I adjust his face before he suffocates and grab at the glass of water Mother set out for Cato. She's ended up helping him to bed, being really keen on doing it instead of me. I didn't object, and instead watched a little TV in the living room.

It's so dark right now that I can barely see much in the room other than the dim little light in my bathroom and the glass in my hand. I take small sips, trying not to cause too much commotion and wake up Cato. If he finds out I'm sick, he won't leave me alone. After a few seconds, I think I'm okay, and lay back down, but I've barely had my head down for a second before I rise back up. I swing out of bed and rush into the bathroom. There is bile rising up my throat and if I don't make it to the toilet, there will be puke all over the bed and Cato.

I make it into the bathroom just in time, flip on the light, and bury my head in the toilet, puking up the contents of my stomach. I ate too much tonight and the food didn't sit well in my stomach after being so used to the Capitol food.

As I am heaving into the toilet bowl, my hair is lifted from my hand and I peek and see Cato before I'm hurling again. I guess it was inevitable that he would wake up to the sounds. I sounded so miserable. He begins rubbing my back softly as I vomit, but it doesn't make me feel any better. There's a slight burning in my throat that won't go away, even as my stomach empties. I dry-heave for a few seconds before being able to sit back and flush the toilet.

Cato hands me a towel and I wipe my mouth and hands. I stay on the floor, perched against the wall just in case anything else threatens to come back up.

Cato eyes me suspiciously. "What's going on?" he asks with a deep frown. He's worried... and he won't stop worrying for the next month if I don't completely assure him that I'm fine.

"I don't think my stomach agreed with the fish I ate at the party today," I rasp out.

Cato hands me a bottle of mouthwash. "You think you need to see a doctor or something?"

"No, I would know if I really wasn't okay. I'll be fine." I drown my mouth with the minty liquid.

"Are you sure? Because I can carry you on my back across the country to the best doctor in the nation if you need me to. You know I will."

I gurgle the mouthwash and spit into the toilet. "I'm alright, Cato, honestly."

"Well, is there something I can do?"

"You can take me back to bed. This has made me tired."

Cato jumps up instantly and scoops me up into his arms. He switches the light off in the bathroom and places me gently back onto my bed. He tucks me into the sheets and hands me his glass of water to sip on. The water helps settle my stomach just the tiniest bit.

"Anything else?" he asks, perched at my side. He looked ready to take flight at my request. "I can find some crackers downstairs or something."

I smile and pat his hand. "No, just go back to bed."

"But you're obviously sick. I can take care of you."

"Cato, I'm fine."

"Sure?"

"Yes."

"Because I can have the greatest physician here in two minutes, I swear." He holds up two fingers to emphasize his point.

"I'm okay. Just go back to bed."

"You're sure?"

"Yes."