Cato And Clove: The Truth of Their Past

Chapter 8: Clove

I stand at the big oak tree, waiting for Cato. I sigh. I'm thirteen. I smile to myself.
"I wonder if Cato will remember if it's my birthday." I say to myself. I lean against the tree, smiling at the warmth of the sun on my face.
"Clove!" Cato yells to me. I smile. "So, why are we here?" he asks.
"Just thought we'd hang out." I say. There's silence.
Then Cato freezes. I look at him. "Oh my, I forgot it was your birthday!" he says, panicking a lot.
"It's okay." I say, forgiving him.
"No it's not."
"It's fi..." I start.
"No it is not okay." he says, holding my face in his hands. I look down at District 2.
"What are you smiling about?" I ask.
"N-nothing." he stammers.
I look at him again, laughing. "Your not smiling anymore." He smiles.
"I'm not?" he asks. He smirks at me.
"No, you're smirking." He smirks down at me. I look away, embarrassed.
"You're cute when you're embarrassed." Cato whispers. He tucks a strand of hair behind my ear. I look down, my face warm because I was embarrassed. "You don't need to be embarrassed around me." He whispers, his mouth close to my face. I smile shyly and look up. He kisses my cheek. "Happy birthday, Clove."
I look away. He kissed me. He actually kissed me.
"What?" I say. Cato was looking at me, smiling. He shakes his head, saying nothing. He puts his arm around me and I rest my head on his chest. He kisses me again, on the top of my head.
"I'm glad your safe." He whispers.
"I'm glad both of us are safe." I whisper back.