BREAKING THE ARENA

Chapter 30 - Morning

***CLOVES POV***

I woke up to the faint light barely sneaking into the bunker, casting shadows on the cold walls. For a brief second, I thought it was all just a nightmare. But the silence was too heavy, too real. My dad... The news of his death still felt distant, like it wasn't mine to bear. My chest tightened, but I pushed the feeling away. There wasn't time to break down. Not here.

I climbed out of the bunk bed quietly, careful not to wake Rue and Glimmer in the bunk bed next to me. Rue's small, even breaths were the only thing grounding me in that moment. The chill of the cement floor under my bare feet brought me back to reality. I slipped into the small bathroom, staring at the reflection in the mirror.

I didn't look like myself, dark circles beneath my eyes, tangled hair, and a worn-out expression that screamed exhaustion. I splashed cold water on my face, trying to clear my head. After getting dressed in my usual, black loose shorts and a white tank top, I let out a long breath. I didn't want to deal with today. I didn't want to deal with any of this. But what choice did I have? I brushed my teeth before I brushed my hair. I decided to leave my hair down today. I let my hair go and it went down to my waist. I put a hair tie on my wrist just incase I wanted to put it up.

I headed up the narrow stairs, passing through the basement. My stomach growled as I caught the scent of pancakes and eggs. I climbed the next set of stairs, leading to the kitchen on the first floor. I wasn't sure how I could even think about food right now, but I knew I needed something.

The sight of Brutus standing by the stove, flipping pancakes like it was any other morning, caught me off guard. He seemed so calm. And then there was Cato, casually leaning against the doorframe, arms crossed, watching Brutus with that signature smirk I'd come to know so well. My heart skipped a beat, the memory of last night's kiss flooding back.

I bit my cheek, feeling the heat rise to my cheeks. I glanced away, trying to compose myself, but it was no use. The memory was still fresh, the way Cato had kissed me, his arms around me, the way it made me feel something, even in the middle of all this chaos.

But of course, Brutus noticed.

"You alright kiddo?" Brutus asked, his voice a low rumble as he glanced back at me from the stove. His eyes were full of concern, and I knew what he was really asking, how are you holding up after what happened to your dad?

I swallowed, pushing the lump in my throat down. "I'm fine," I said quickly, trying to sound convincing. "Just... tired."

Brutus gave me a look that said he didn't believe a word of it, but he didn't push. Instead, he nodded toward the table. "Sit down. You need to eat."

I moved to the table, taking a seat and doing my best  to focus on the food. Brutus set a plate of pancakes and scrambled eggs in front of me, and my stomach growled again. I picked up my fork, forcing myself to take a bite, though it tasted like nothing.

"How're you really doing, Clove?" Brutus asked, softer this time as he sat down across from me. His voice wasn't as gruff as usual. It was... almost kind. A rare thing from him.

I hesitated, staring down at my plate. I wasn't fine. I wasn't even close to fine. But what could I say? I wasn't about to break down here, not in front of Brutus, not in front of Cato. "I'm managing," I muttered, which was about the closest to the truth I could get.

Brutus grunted, giving me that same look he always did—half concerned, half waiting for me to crumble. "If you want to talk my ear of, go for it."

"I'm good," I interrupted, shoving another forkful of pancakes into my mouth just to avoid saying anything more. The last thing I needed was to start crying again. Not here. Not now.