" 𝔦'𝔪 𝔞 𝔰𝔲𝔯𝔳𝔦𝔳𝔬𝔯 "
✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*
In an attempt to save her sister, and survive
the Hunger Games, Rowan Everdeen meets
Cato Hadley, the murderous boy from
District 2 who might be just what she
...
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" you have to win "
rowan's view
ℑ knew we wouldn't both survive, even as I let myself remember what it was like to feel something other than fear. I could still feel a sense of hope as we walked next to each other, his arm just barely brushing against mine. It took the memories of my sisters and mother, and even Gale to remind me that if it came to me versus Cato, I would have to fight.
I bit my lip before risking it, looking up towards my new ally. It seemed odd to think of him as an ally, because even then I knew he meant much more to me. I had never loved another in the way characters did in books, and wasn't sure if I even knew what it felt like. Surely, this wasn't that, because I didn't believe that I would throw myself in harm's way for him, though that had always seemed like an outlandish gesture of love to me anyways.
I did care for him, as he had admitted he cared for me. I wished desperately that we would both walk out alive, and I wouldn't have to endure the pain losing him would bring. Would I even be able to go back to my life, as it had been, without being haunted by the memories of him?
The sunlight edging over the mountains in the distance framed Cato's figure, showing once again just how large he was; born and bred to fight in these games... and he had put that at risk several times for me. I had done the same.
Yes, I decided. If I left that arena, I would never forget him.
At that moment, he looked down at me, an uncharacteristically warm smile pulling on his features. It faltered, however, when his gaze edged down to my cheekbone, where the mark of Clove's knife had left a gash that still stung. "We should clean that," he said, his voice rough. I could see his hand falter from the grip on his sword, but he was not accustomed to showing affection, and neither was I.
I faced forward, shaking my head. "Unimportant. The game will be over before sunrise." This, and I knew that no manner of cleaning would be able to conceal the scar. All I could hope was that the scar would serve as a reminder; of these games, and of the lives I had taken.
"You do that often," he said simply, facing back and continuing. I narrowed my eyes, but before I could indignantly ask him what he meant, he kept going. "Pretend like you're fine when you're not. You don't have to with me, you know," he said hesitantly, looking back down at me.
And I suddenly realized that as uncomfortable as I was with the turn of events, he was just as much, if not more so. So I felt more at ease in that moment; instead of being irritated that he was presuming how I acted, I smiled because he had noticed, and denying it wouldn't make it untrue.
I shrugged my shoulders, glancing behind us to verify that we were alone. "Maybe, but that doesn't change the fact that I'm right. If the Gamemakers have their way, we'll see Thresh by nightfall." At the thought, my hands twitched towards my knife again, as if I could feel danger approaching. Thresh was nothing like his smaller, kinder district partner, and I couldn't afford to underestimate him. Not when I was so close.
