Clato - Like Cement (smut included)

Chapter 3 - Puddles and Jackets

Alexis left the training centre to go home and Clove spent the next twenty minutes or so polishing some knives in the corner. Cato was still there training with the spears. She looked over at him a few times. Maybe a little more than a few times. She was trying to view their little conversations as purely friendly only but something about his seductive eyes and voice made it hard. She kept thinking, why was Cato talking to her like this in the first place? They'd never spoken before, he's one year older and he has girls falling at his feet in front of him. She'd never had enough time to form a specific dislike for Cato but apart from not finding him ugly she'd never particularly liked him either. His massive ego and strutting around like he owned the place. Something about it was hot though.

Clove finished ridding the metal of all of its stains and scratches and threw her bag over her shoulder. There was barely anyone left at the training centre, apart from Cato, 2 other guys next to him, and a few younger girls at the archery station, as it was 5:30pm and most people leave by 5:00pm. She started heading outside but quickly realised how bad the storm had gotten. The ground around her was soaked, the rain had already made river puddles on the roads and she could hear thunder a couple miles off. "Shit." Clove mumbled to herself. She sat down on a bench covered by the edge of the centre's roof and debated for a minute if she should just call her mother and sneak into the basement to sleep at the training centre. She stood up to walk back into the building however the tall, blond boy that is Cato walked out. "How the hell did the rain get so bad so quickly?" He shouted a little so she could hear him over the loud rain and thunder. "I don't know. I also don't know how I'm going to get home." Clove told Cato as she looked around, stressed out. "Let me walk you, Clove." Cato said as they both saw the first lightning strike in a field yonder. "No it's fine I can go myself or I can stay the night here."
"No, Clove, you're not staying here tonight I am going to walk you home." He insisted. Clove reluctantly nodded and the pair started on their way to Clove's house.

Cato handed Clove his burgundy jacket because she was still in the black t-shirt from earlier in the day. "Cato, I am not going to take your jacket. We aren't a married couple." Clove scowled trying to not shiver. He muttered something that sounded like 'yes' under his breath but wasn't. "What?" Clove asked.
"Nothing. Just take the jacket you're clearly freezing."
"No."
"That wasn't an option. Take my jacket."
Clove ran away from him jokingly a little while laughing. He chased her and picked her up by the waist, forcing the sleeves over her arms and she tried to wriggle herself away but he succeeded and they both stopped fighting. For a second he just held her there. They both looked into each other's eyes, he was mesmerised by her beauty. Awfully wholesome for Cato, he put her down again but her feet landed in a puddle. "Cato!" Clove yelled. She splashed water on him and he laughed and jogged away. She chased him until they reached the end of the street, about 5 houses away from Clove's house. They both stopped, panting a little. "I'm guessing you want the jacket back now?" Clove asked while panting, beginning to unzip it. "No. Keep it until tomorrow. You'll get cold again walking into your door." He insisted, grabbing her zip to pull it back up again over her chest. His eyes followed the zip as she watched his eyes wonder up her body. His eyes eventually met hers. "Thank you, Cato. I don't know what sort of drugs you're on to make you do something so nice for a person but thank you."
"Maybe it's not the drugs, maybe it's the person." He answered, beginning to walk away. "Oh and knife throwing at 5pm tomorrow." He added, heading off to his own house. "It's a date." She said, turning around to unlock her door to go inside.

Clove ran upstairs to her bathroom to shower. She stared at herself in the mirror. She pondered what Cato meant by "'maybe it's not the drugs, maybe it's the person'". She unzipped Cato's jacket and left the bathroom to hang it over the fire to dry. Once back in the bathroom she pulled her t-shirt and leggings off so she was just in underwear. She pulled the knife out of her bra and placed it on the surface beside the sink. She unclipped her bra and slid off her underwear and chucked them into the corner with the rest of her damp clothes. She stepped into the shower with warm water which soothed her skin from the cold. Clove wasn't typically the boy-obsessed type but she couldn't get Cato and his anomalous gestures off of her mind.