the girl who played with knives || clato ✔️

37

Cato

I get straight to work on cleaning Clove's wound, smearing away the blood and applying a gel medicine that I found in Katniss' bag to her forehead. I then work to peel off Clove's jacket and aid the arrow wound on her arm.

Then I take out the medicine in the orange pouch, which is a syringe filled with oozing liquid. I can't completely tell, but it looks like something my mother once gave me to prevent infection when I took an insane fall off my bike and got all bloodied up.

"Do it," Clove says, as I stare into her eyes and she stares at the medicine in my hand. We both know this'll hurt, but she needs it.

I jam the needle into her arm and press down on the syringe. Clove grunts, but complies, and as the medicine flows through her bloodstream, I can see her relax a little.

"Better?" I ask.

"I think so."

"Perfect." I smile at her and give her a gentle kiss on the soft, delicate, skin of her lips.

"We were always meant to be, weren't we?" she asks, and I can almost see Kimber smirking and nodding in the shadows.

"Always," I nod, kissing her again. "Now get some sleep. That medicine should make you drowsy anyway, and you need the rest. We've been through a hell of a lot today..."

"And yesterday," Clove adds.

"And before that," I murmur.

"Pretty much always," Clove concludes.

"I'll take first watch. Go to sleep." I take her hand in mine and feel her pulse radiating. That pulse that means she's alive. I saved her. Somehow. Or maybe it wasn't me. Maybe fate. But whatever it is, I'm glad beyond comprehension. I'll do anything to keep it this way.

Clove

Cato was right about the medicine knocking me right out. When I come to, it's already after noon and I can spot Cato just inside the rim of the Cornucopia eating some berries. He's perfectly capable of hunting and getting meat, but I guess he doesn't want to leave me. Also it's raining heavily...

I stand up surprisingly steadily, all the hospital treatment from last night giving me strength. I stalk over to Cato and sit at his side.

"Hey," he says, immediately showing a smile. "How are you feeling?"

"Great," I respond, kissing him quick. "How 'bout you?"

"Better now." He grins, kissing me back.

A string of laughter escapes my mouth and I pull myself closer to him. I feel his hands gently running through my hair. Then I pull away.

"Let's save this for when we get home." I smile.

"Okay," Cato says with a chuckle. "So, um... what should we do?"

"Hunt Thresh. And Fynch," I demand.

"Are-are you sure?" Cato seems confused. Almost nervous. Cato nervous.

"Yes. The sooner we kill them, the sooner we can go home!" I insist. What little remorse I had is now gone. I finally understand what Cato feels- that rage, that passion, that drive.

"But the rain-"

"Will provide perfect cover..." I take Cato's hand in mine. "Come on. I'm ready. Don't you want to go home?"

Cato is silent for a moment. Then he nods.

"Let's go."

Cato

The rain is incredibly heavy, but we get used to it as we walk and walk through darkness. I have no idea what time it is, but I do know that about every five seconds I ask Clove if she's okay. It's just, I couldn't live without her. No way. I almost shut down just thinking I'd lost her.

"I'm fine," Clove reassures me for the umpteenth time.

"Okay," I say. "Okay."

"Okay."

"Okay."

At his point we're both laughing, and through tremors of giggles, Clove says, "Okay, Lover Boy."

I smile at her and kiss her long and hard in the rain, like in a movie.

"I really, really love you," I tell her when I break the kiss.

"I love you, too..." Clove says, lifting a hand to my cheek. "I wanna be with you."

"For forever," I assure her, taking her hand and kissing it. I hold her close as we keep walking.

The sky seems to have gotten darker so I'm guessing it's nighttime, and we're getting tired and cold anyway so we decide to take shelter. We're in a shallow section of the river and there're plenty of rock crevices to settle down in. We walk into a fairly large cave with some foliage scattered on the ground and hanging from above the mouth.

"Oh my god," Clove says when we see what's inside.

It's Lover Boy. It's Peeta. At least what's left of him... just torn clothes, bits of bone, and lots of blood.

"Holy shit," I say, suddenly feeling bad for him despite everything. What could have done this?

"How...?" Clove murmurs, seemingly thinking along the same lines as me. She quivers, her disgust evident.

Our answer comes a few seconds later when we hear a howl and a low growl from behind us. We turn around slowly to see a grizzly dog-like mutt wading through the river towards us.

"Holy shit!" I repeat, practically carrying Clove as I run to get us as far away as possible from the mutt that must've killed Peeta.