A Thousand Years. (A Clato Fan Fiction) {Editing}

Chapter 1 "Training" {Edited}

I suggest you read Time Has Brought Your Heart To Me before this. It will make this one more understandable and this is still in the process of editing. Also, this story is under heavy editing so it will not make sense if it doesn't have {Edited} in the chapter name.

Clove’s PoV

My usual every day routine consists of throwing knives, and never missing my target. Throwing knives is my passion and I've trained for 10 years using them. I'm from District 2 and the best knife thrower in the history of the Hunger Games. Volunteering this year is my dream, and if I'm reaped, I'll shove a knife down anyone that volunteers for me. Killing and winning are my guilty pleasures. There's only one thing that I hate more than losing and that's Cato. Well, speak of the devil. He walks past the throwing knives station and sends me a smug smile. My knees turn jelly and my stomach flops. For the first time, I miss, almost hitting one of the trainer's head. I turn away to avoid the trouble. 

Cato comes over and says, “Good aiming there, Clover.”

My face reddens in a weird feeling. It's anger Clove, nothing else. Your past with him doesn't matter to you anymore. All that matters is killing him in the Hunger Games. Wait...did he just call me Clover? He's always known I've hated that nickname because he gave it to me when I was 5. My breath shortens and I hold in my fury. I swear I'll get my revenge.

Cato starts doing some hand-to-hand combat with a student slightly smaller than him. He's always been the strongest in 2. Guess who's the only person he's lost to? You got it, me. The too small, dark haired, olive skinned girl. Cato stumbles off the mat and lands on his stomach. I burst into laughter and point at him. He deserves humiliation after making me miss a target.

The head trainer announces the end of our session and explains the Hunger Games dance tonight. Dancing is one of the only things I'm not good at. Actually finding a date isn't either. Boys are a waste of time anyway.

Cato’s PoV

At least I made her smile and miss a target. I don't even know why she hates me so much. It was just one tiny mistake I made last year. And I hated myself for it. One chance to make everything right before our fight to the death. But why would she forgive me after what I did? Why am I even saying this? Get it together, you're not meant to have feelings. I just need Clove's attention for 5 minutes and the only way to do that is let her win a fight. No matter who it is, Clove would never reject a duel. I've known her for practically my whole life and then we suddenly became strangers.

I catch a wisp of her mysterious green eyes as she takes her bag and leaves the Training Centre. No one will ever know how much I need her to forgive me. Her dark hair whips around her face as she sits on a park bench near our houses. We're neighbours; that's why we were such good friends at one point.

"If it isn't Miss small but deadly," I say and she turns, showing her freckled cheek. "I challenge you to a duel. Weapons allowed if you can reach them."

She laughs and then scoffs. "I'm totally going to kick your butt, giant blondie." She's back to how she was. Not ignoring me but instead calling me retarded names.

“Yeah, right. Little lucky Clover,” I tease.

“Okay, it starts… now!” She yells with aggressively.

Clove’s PoV

I make the first move so I could have the upperhand. My body lands on his jamming his wrist under my grasp. He could easily rip free from my grip. Cato wants something from me, and it isn't the satisfaction of beating me. He knows me too well, so much that he knows how he can get me to talk to him.

"Fight properly, Cato!" I grit my teeth as he pushes me off while jabbing his fingers into my stomach. My body slides backwards against the lush grass. I cough while my stomach throbs. He holds me down and I could feel his hot breath against my cheeks. His face is only an inch away from mine. I swallow down my desire and change it into rage. As he searches for some sort of weapon, I knee him in the gut and bite his hand. Girls are better at multitasking. My bag flies off the bench, letting some of my knives drop out. I grab one and hold it against his neck. 

"See, I'm stronger. I won." I smirk and pack my bag up. "What do you want, blondie? I know you very well too."

"Oh, Clover..." He mutters. "You're the only girl for me."

"As in, the only girl who knows how much of a jerk you are. Who ditches their childhood best friend for some sluts and jerks?" He walks over and sits next me. Our eyes meet, his neon blue and mine dark green, clashing together making a tidal wave. 

“I like you," He mumbles, audible enough for me to hear. "And I know you like me."

“What was your first clue? God, you're an idiot." I hesitate. 

“Does that mean I'm forgiven?" He asks and I giggle a little. Giggling? Seriously? I nod slowly.

Cato's PoV

There's no point in us falling for each other now. Only one victor, and we're both volunteering. We were chosen to volunteer. One of our fates' is death and the other, fame. District 2 always wins. Then I remember the pact Clove and I made when my sister died in the games. We would both volunteer together. I just wish we could've volunteered earlier, when we were still friends.

“Come with me to the dance. One last memory before you can skin me alive."

“Am I showing off more skin today?” Clove looks at her clothes. "It seems you only ask girls who wear cloths out."

"I'll take that as a yes," I say. "Can I kiss you?"

“At least you asked this time. But no. Let's save it for later." She winks.

"Clove! Clove! I see you! Blade wants you!" Clove's adoptive mother calls.

"I'm so sorry. Bye, giant." 

"Bye, little lucky Clover!" I kiss her cheek.

She laughs as she walks away.