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

Chapter 13 "Stargaze" {Edited}

Clove’s PoV

The rock falls to the ground with a thud. Blood smothers all over it. Sighing and stinging, the wind blows across the plains, letting my blood droplets fall ever so gently from the grass blades to the soil. I squeeze my eyes shut, begging for the pain to disappear, but it doesn’t. It is the death I never wanted, a slow one. My breathing sedates as the tears spring from my eyes.

Through my brick-rimmed, arched window, I watched as the boy I secretly had feelings for reading, concentrating on his book, The Art of War by Sun Tzu. He had been so lost in it’s content that he didn’t notice the girl next door admiring him from afar. We were best friends, and the only friends each other had. He began to scribble down notes. His eyebrows furrowed and he glanced up, looking for a distraction. I fall to the floor, hoping he didn’t see me. With a few stretches, he is easily deepened back into the book. I creeped back onto my bed, taking out the knife that he gave me. And I know that love doesn’t matter at this age, and I simply would not allow it for myself, but I could not deny that I did love him. I averted my gaze back to him one final time before I turned my lamp off. His crystalline eyes wandered into my window, piercing through the glass and reaching my dull eyes. We caught each other in the act that time. He smiled and so did I.

“Night, Clover,” he said, after he dawdled to the window.

“You too, Cato,” I replied, my face flushed. And I shut my lights, but I could still see the light in his eyes.

“Clove!” He bellows, his voice now hoarse. No, no, don’t come near me, you’ll see me when I’m weak and dying, and breaking the only promise I intended on keeping; to never leave you.

I lay there, lifeless, as Thresh and Katniss mumble. I could not hear them through the constant ringing in my ears that brings me closer to death with every decibel. They both run, once the screams continue worsening to the point of being deafening. And in that moment, he will know he’s lost me.

“Cato, Cato…” I whisper, reaching for his hand. He takes it, lacing his fingers in between mine. My hand compresses his tightly, taking in my very last moments of life. “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be sorry, Clove.” He lifts me onto his lap, my blood soaking all over his hand. “Just stay with me, and everything will be all right.”

Cato brushes his fingers across my freckled cheek, in a tenderness that he seems to have never obtained in his lifetime.

“You know everything will not be okay. I’m dying, Cato, please just let me die. It hurts so much, Cato.”

“I don’t want you to die, Clove.”

“Take away the pain, please,” I beg, choking on my own saliva and blood. Cato watches in horror as I asphyxiate, retching out my blood.

His tears drip off his defined jaw, splintering against my neck.

“I know you’re not okay.”

Desolation enrages behind his pained eyes. I reach to hold his face in my palms, but I am too weak. My hand falls limp by my side.

“Thank you for being the greatest love I could ever imagine, Cato. Thank you for being my rival, and for being my best friend. And most of all, thank you for being my one and only love. I love you so much, and I am sorry for leaving.”

My eyes roll back into my head. My heartbeat becomes the only thing I hear. Cato’s desperate bellows block out of my mind.

“Goodbye, my dear,” I hear Cato say, letting go of what’s left of me.