THIS BLOG IS 2 YEARS OLD TODAY!
No light, no light in your bright blue eyes
I never knew the daylight could be so violent
Oh damn these walls
In the moment we’re ten feet tall
And how you told me after it all
We’d remember tonight
For the rest of our lives
"What?" Her face exploded in anger as she stared at the blond boy in front of her. "We didn’t survive the games together for you to fly off and join the damn Peacekeepers!"
"I have to! This is what my father’s wanted from me since I was ten." Cato would barely meet her eyes, they darted all around, only glancing at her face for a second.
"That’s bullshit!" It wasn’t like the two of them were just average kids in District 2. No, they’d won the Hunger Games. No one had the right to tell them what to do.
"So — this means I’m just going to see your once a year during the games?" All Cato did was nod his head. Clove’s lips pressed together for a long moment, her eyes angry. "Fine."
And she turned around and walked away.
I don´t know what hurts more, imagining Cato´s - longer - reaction to Clove´s death or imagining him taking care of her as she recovers in the arena and being even more protective over her.
"Here’s your soup."
Cato slowly moved to sit next to Clove on the bed. Her eyes were shut but by her breath, Cato could tell she was away. Her eyes opened as he brought the soup to rest on the standing table before her. Her nose was red, her eyes puffy, and every few minutes she’d cough horribly.
“Thanks.” She muttered adjusting herself to get a better view of he soup. “Don’t even think about feeding my buddy, I’m sick, not dead.” This brought herself to laugh before she went into a coughing fit.
He did as she said, only watching her slowly bring the spoon to her lips. That didn’t stop him from taking her hand and lacing his fingers between hers. “Least you’re letting me do this.” If she wasn’t so sick, he knew Clove would be stomping around doing all of this herself.
”Consider yourself lucky.” She set the spoon down and turned to him. “You haven’t kissed me since I got sick.”
”I don’t want to get sick myself. You’ll let me die in the bed.”
Snorting she shook her head, picking the spoon back up and slurping. Cato chuckled before lifting himself up and kissing her on the forehead, feeling her fever. He said nothing as he returned to how he was resting before, but smiled as he saw Clove’s smile.
*squeals* There are some really great drabble requests in my ask