DYSTOPIA

0.11

The mess hall remained eerily silent as Gale recounted what life was like the last couple of days in District 12, although t it was meant to be Katniss starring the propo, things had gotten far too emotional and Gale had to step in. Not that, that was any less emotional. Clove's heart ached, and for some reason yearned for Gale even more than it usually did as she watched him on the screen above her head. She truly felt for what he and the rest of District 12 had gone through before they were completely annihilated, but for a reason which was still unbeknownst to Clove, she was unable to be with or think about Gale without then thinking about Cato. He'd made it abundantly clear that he didn't care the slightest for her, when he'd explicitly told her, what she should have done was forgotten about him— However, she found it wasn't as simple as that. "Your boyfriend sure can deliver a speech." Cato's voice rang from behind her, sending a shiver up that spine. "After all this time and I still make you nervous, good to know you still care." He said with a malicious tone, Clove wasn't even facing him and she didn't need to, to know that he was mocking her.

Cato stood before her, and made a mockery of her, yet she still cared. Clove silently prayed and hoped the ground would swallow her up whole, she stayed silent, knowing damn well she couldn't argue with Cato without thinking about that forsaken night. She stayed silent, figuring he'd eventually get bored and get lost. "So you're not going to deny it?" He pressed, his tone growing in harshness.

Stay strong Clove.

Clove took a deep breath before turning to face him: Clove audibly gasped as she became face to face with the boy she'd grown up with, and he was almost unrecognisable. "Oh my God." She whispered.

"I know," He replied lazily, "I look like shit."

"Cato..." She began, unsure of what to say next. Clove couldn't even bring herself to ask what had happened, not wanting to know the answer. Cato looked worse than he had in a long time— Or from what Clove could remember. The more she thought about it, the more she realised that she hadn't actually given Cato the time of day in weeks. Sure, they'd exchange a few glances at each other in bypassing and Clove would sometimes steal a look or two whilst nobody else we looking, but she'd never actually looked at him long enough to know that his physical appearance was drastically changing.

The way he currently looked reminded her an awful lot how he looked when they'd first arrived in District 13: It was clear he wasn't eating, Clove didn't often see Cato in the mess hall, and when she did he'd toy with with food rather than eat it. His face was visibly gaunt, telling from the way he spoke and the way looked, he severely lacked nutrients. His jawline and cheekbones were more accentuated than usual, and the dark circles surrounding his eyelids made his ocean blue eyes stand out more, which looked... colder than usual.
Cato generally looked thinner than usual, but still sported more muscle than the general population. Despite it all, Clove still found Cato to be the most attractive person in the room. "Are you growing a beard?" She asked with a suppressed smile, Cato let out a sigh of relief, which eventually broke out into a rare and genuine smile. Cato was relieved to know that after everything, he and Clove always had that special type of relationship, where they never failed to cheer each other up.

"Would you like me more if I said yes?" He asked, with a smirk.

"Nope, I'd hate you more than I already do." She replied, with a smirk of her own.

"In that case I'll get rid of it right away." He said with a chuckle, "You know I'd do anything for you, Clover." He added after a minute.

Clove's heart dropped at the mention of the nickname Cato called her for the majority of her life, all of a sudden the memories of the last night they'd spoke came rushing back: Not only had Cato gone out of his way to blatantly disrespect her, but he'd also gone the extra mile to make sure he twisted the knife. "If that's your idea of an apology," She said with a chilling pause, as her cold exterior returned "You're not forgiven," She said with another pause, "and frankly, I've heard better from the likes of my father."