Born to Die, Bred to Kill (A Cato/Clove Love Story)

What? I HAD INSPIRATION OKAY?
Enjoy! :)

Chapter 3

Cato's Inner Human

Cato's POV

I woke up early, about 5:00 AM, and remembered I had brought Clove home with me. I was doing pretty well! Maybe she does love me back!

I got dressed and sat on her bed, just watching her sleep. Most people scowl unpleasantly when they're asleep, but Clove's scowl looked quite feisty, and I liked that. It matched her personality.

I thought about everything that had went on yesterday. I convinced her to walk to the ballroom with me, she got really mad several times, then agreed to come home with me.

I just couldn't stop thinking about Clove. Nobody, nobody at all, had ever seen me love. I had to hide my emotions all the time to make me look tough. Being heartless was pretty difficult.

Until I met Clove. I remembered the first day I saw her, and I stole her knife. She was very mad. I joked around but gave it back to her. I hadn't realized that I would come to fall in love with her. Even now, with my love for her stronger than ever, I still hid my emotions. It just wouldn't be normal for everyone to see me "romantic."

But everything about Clove was so perfect, I was beginning to wonder if I could control this. Her long, black hair, short but fierce figure, ominous glares, and best of all, I found it very sexy when she was angry.

Suddenly, Clove's eyes fluttered open. "Cato! What? Where--? Oh. Right," she said all at once. She must've forgotten I let her stay the night.

I laughed in response. "Breakfast?" I offered.

"Yea, sure," Clove answered I differently. "Let me get dressed first." I nodded, but didn't realize I was still sitting beside her. We stared awkwardly at each other for a few seconds, then burst into laughter at my foolishness.

I walked out of the room, then downstairs to make breakfast. Or maybe a surprise.

Clove's POV

I looked around for clothes, but then I remembered I had walked home with Cato with nothing but what I was wearing. I am so stupid! What would Cato think?

I brushed my teeth and cleaned my face, then rushed downstairs.

"Wait! Clove, stop! Shut your eyes!" Cato demanded quickly. I stopped abruptly, just about to enter the kitchen, and obeyed. I heard his footsteps come closer to me.

"Why?" I asked, confused. I was excited though.

"It's something... Just--One sec," Cato blindfolded me, obviously not trusting me. I smiled to myself, finding this all amusing. "Sit right here and I'll help you up when I'm done." Cato sat me down gently on the foot of his stairs, the left.

I took this time to think.

Was it right to have stayed the night? Or even hang out with Cato? Bloody, brutal Cato, the troublemaker with no heart? That was what the school saw him as.

I was glad I could see his inner human.

My mother would probably be furious with me, angry that I went missing or something. I could already hear her impatient yells, but I immediately stopped worrying when I heard Cato's voice again.

"Ready," he said. I longed to see the smirk that was surely on his face. He took my hand--his was very warm and tender, surprisingly--and helped me up.

"Seriously, Cato. You better have done something worth getting yelled at by my mother," I said.

"Shit Clove, I forgot!" I heard worry in his tone.

"No, it's fine. I don't care about her, really. She doesn't scare me one bit. Just continue! I'm excited!" I assured Cato, even though I wasn't so sure myself. I didn't want to look weak.

"Fine," he sighed, then we walked, me still blindfolded, to the kitchen. I was about to sit down, but he kept walking. Where we're we going?

"Just keep following me," he instructed. I held a tight grip on his hands, just in case I were to trip over something. Cato's strong arms could protect me.

"So," he said. "I see you've realized that there was nothing I change into." I pursed my lips, but he could read the expression on my eyes because of the blindfold.

I didn't answer, not knowing what to say. He took this as embarrassment.

"Clover, you don't have to be ashamed that I'm smarter than you!" he said cockily.

"I am ten times smarter than you are, and you know it!" I competitively insisted, letting go of his hand. "My grades are better than yours."

"Well, my spear throwing is better."

"My knife throwing is better."

"I'm taller!"

"I'm the faster runner!" I was not sure if that was true.

Neither was Cato. "Prove it," he said, taking my hand again.

"What about the surprise you were supposed to show me?" I asked.

"Almost there..." he answered.

"I'm hungry!" I complained.

"Don't worry, I brought food."

After a few more minutes, he slowly let go of my hand and reached for the blindfold. "We're here," he said softly.

My eyes adjusted to the broad daylight, and what surrounded me was a beautiful sight. There were green trees and bushed almost everywhere, and a lake too. The scent of flowers wafted through the air.

Even though it was December.

"It's beautiful," I remarked, not sounding like myself. Since when did I call something beautiful, unless it was a set of sharp bladed knives?

"You like it? I come here sometimes," Cato said.

"You come here sometimes? Are you bloody, brutal Cato, or what? Gentle, peaceful grasshopper?" I joked. It was my turn to watch his face turn red.

"Shut up," he said. "I come here to train sometimes."

"Sure you do. Are you sure you don't sit by the lake and sing? Or run around and dance in the meadow?" It was actually very fun. No wonder Cato poked fun at me 24/7.

"Do you want breakfast or not?" Cato asked angrily, but then calming down.

"I'm just kidding, Cato. Yes, I want breakfast," I replied. He had a picnic basket with him. Inside it, there was bottles of orange juice, ham and cheese sandwiches, and fruit cups.

"Enjoy," Cato smiled at me. Ugh, that smile. It was a guilty pleasure.

I couldn't help but smile back at him. He was so gorgeous; All the girls admired him.

Then, it hit me.

Did Cato and I have something going on? Was it real? I had held his hands several times, I slept in his room, and he constantly flirted with me.

I wanted badly to love him, but all my life, I was that tough, training-hard-girl. Loving him would make me look like some of the girls in my class.

Cato probably felt the same way. Sure, he flirted with a lot of girls, but he never actually loved someone. Everyone pictured him as a ruthless killing machine.

So maybe it was a good idea for both of us to be just friends.

"Clove," Cato said, breaking my thoughts.

"Yea?"

"I want you to know something," he said, clearing his throat. "Ever since I saw you, playing with your knife years ago, I just thought, Who is this girl?"

Did he really just say that? Right after I was self-confirming that we would be just friends?

"Oh, uh--" My cheeks turned a little red. Woah. Who was I turning into? "Thanks. But Cato, I want you to know to know something too."

"What is it, Clover?" He seemed curious.

"I--I felt almost the same. You know, I have never loved someone in my life so much, unless you count my father. But he's always gone. So everyone thinks I'm this tomboy-ish girl who has no interest in guys. And it was true," I blurted out. "Until I met you." Which was half the truth.

"So you have an interest in me?" Cato smirked, then winked. God, it was too much! He was killing me with that charisma!

"Sure, why not?" I sarcastically answered. He raised his eyebrows, then wiped his hands on a napkin, giving me one too.

"Because--Clove, I don't know how to say this. No one has ever seen me be gentle, and everyone thinks I'm heartless. So loving you would make them think I'm crazy. But I still do. I love you, Clove."

It was overwhelming. Part of me fought. No, Clove! He's a player, and besides, you would make yourself look weak! He's just a good friend!

But Cato was so amazing that I immediately fought back. No, he is more than a friend. He's the only one who understands me. And I'm the same to him.

"I--yeah," was all I could say. I didn't exactly love him. I couldn't.

A frown formed on Cato's face but quickly whisked away. Then, he inched closer.

I knew what was coming. He was going to kiss me, and in the few seconds I had, I thought, No! No, don't kiss Cato! You can't, Clove! Do you want this? His lips were dangerously close. They then touched mine, and I immediately gave up on myself, kissing him back.

It was perfect. His lips were just... perfectly fit on mine. It was unbelievable how flawless a kiss could be. I had never kissed a bly before, and who would guess Cato would be my first kiss?

He was very gentle, surprisingly. Treating me with care, like I was a fragile, delicate girl. But I was the opposite.

I then pulled apart from him, wondering how I should've felt.

"That was--"

"Oh god, sorry Clove! I didn't mean--It's just, I'm sorry. I--"

"It's fine," I said with a smirk. "You're not bad."

"Neither are you,"

It was so shocking, how gentle and sensitive he could be. I bet none of the girls he had ever dated saw this side. I was the first.

And I was proud to be.

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