𝐓𝐚𝐥𝐞𝐬 𝐎𝐟 𝐋𝐨𝐯𝐞 𝐀𝐧𝐝 𝐖𝐚𝐫

Rainfall Dance

***THIRD PERSON POV***

      The sky had been threatening to burst all afternoon, and when it finally did, the rain came down in sheets, soaking the empty courtyard outside the Panem Boarding School. Most students had hurried indoors to avoid the downpour, but Clove stayed where she was, standing in the center of the courtyard as the rain drenched her to the bone.

      She smiled, tilting her head back, letting the cool water cascade over her face. She loved this—the way the rain washed everything away, made the world quiet. It felt like freedom.

     From under the overhang, Cato watched her, arms crossed, looking less than impressed. He hated the rain, always had. It reminded him of cold nights and endless storms. It made him restless. But Clove? She was glowing. There was something magnetic about the way she welcomed it, as if the rain belonged to her.

     "You're going to get sick," he called out, but his voice lacked the sharp edge he intended. His gaze softened as he watched her spin, her arms outstretched, face lifted to the sky.

     Clove turned to him, her eyes sparkling beneath the dark storm clouds. "So? It's just water, Cato."

     He shook his head, leaning against the doorframe, unwilling to step out into the rain. "Just water? You're soaked."

     "And you're dry," she teased, walking toward him, her steps slow, purposeful. Her clothes clung to her, the rain outlining every curve of her figure. She stopped in front of him, eyes locked on his. "Come on. Live a little."

     He sighed, giving her a half-smirk. "Yeah no. I don't do rain."

      Clove laughed, a soft, musical sound that seemed to melt the tension in the air. She held out her hand to him, palm open, raindrops trickling down her fingers. "You don't do rain, but... do you dance?"

     Cato raised an eyebrow. "Dance? You want me to dance? In the rain?"

     "Why not?" Her voice was soft, almost challenging, but her expression was hopeful. "I don't know how. You'll have to teach me."

     He stared at her, the rain now lightly spattering his boots as he stood on the edge of the courtyard. He hated getting wet, but the sight of Clove standing there, her hand extended toward him, something unspoken between them—it was impossible to say no.

      With a resigned sigh, he reached out and took her hand, stepping out from under the cover and into the rain. The cold droplets hit his skin instantly, soaking him through, but he barely noticed. Clove's hand in his was warm despite the rain, and as she pulled him close, Cato's heart began to beat faster.

      He placed one hand on her waist, his other still holding hers as he guided her into a slow, easy rhythm. The rain fell softly around them now, like a gentle lullaby, as they moved together.

     Clove stumbled slightly at first, her awkward steps earning a low chuckle from Cato. "You're terrible at this."

     "I told you," she muttered, her cheeks flushing slightly as she tried to match his movements. "I can barely dance."

      "I've got you," he whispered, his voice gentler than she'd ever heard it. He tightened his grip on her waist, pulling her closer. "Just follow my lead."

       And she did. Her body relaxed against his as they swayed together, their movements slow and unhurried. The world around them faded, leaving only the sound of the rain and the quiet beating of their hearts.

      Cato's hand lingered on her waist, his fingers tracing small circles through the wet fabric of her clothes. He had always admired Clove's strength, her resilience, but here, in his arms, she felt fragile—soft, even. It was a side of her no one else got to see, and it made something tighten in his chest.

      "Why do you like the rain so much?" he asked, his voice barely louder than a whisper.

      Clove looked up at him, her eyes meeting his, searching for something in the depths of his gaze. "It makes everything feel... new. Like a fresh start."

       Cato didn't reply, but something in her words resonated with him. He tightened his grip on her hand, pulling her even closer, their bodies now pressed together as they continued to move in slow circles.

       The rain fell heavier again, but neither of them seemed to care. Cato's breath was warm against her forehead as he lowered his head, his lips brushing her temple. Clove closed her eyes, leaning into him, her heart racing in her chest.

       Without thinking, he bent down, his lips hovering over hers for the briefest of moments. He paused, as if asking for permission, and when Clove's fingers tightened around his, he closed the gap between them, pressing his lips to hers.

       The kiss was soft at first, tentative, as if they were both afraid to break the spell the rain had cast over them. But as Clove responded, her hands sliding up to wrap around his neck, the kiss deepened, and the world around them ceased to exist.

       They pulled apart slowly, breathless, the rain still falling softly around them.

       Clove smiled, her forehead resting against his. "You still hate the rain?"

       Cato shook his head, brushing a wet strand of hair away from her face, his fingers lingering on her cheek. "No. Not anymore."

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𝐏𝐛𝐬 𝐢𝐬 𝐠𝐞𝐭𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐚𝐧 𝐮𝐩𝐝𝐚𝐭𝐞 𝐭𝐨𝐝𝐚𝐲!

        ꧁Charlotte<3꧂