Bad Boy Better Run (Clato)

Chapter Ten: I'll Lodge My Knife in Your Throat

 

So,

the featured presentation...'s recap.

RECAP:

"Hey!" Cato shouted. "That's not fair!"

I laughed and leaned against the door with my back to it and arms crossed over my chest. "Oh, I think it's perfectly fair, Blondie."

"Just open the door, gorgeous."

"How about no?"

I could almost hear, yes hear, Cato smirking. At least, I pictured it in my mind. "How about yes?"

"GET TO BED!" someone shouted irritably, and I recognized the voice as Enobaria's.

Both Cato and I erupted into laughter, to the point where I was holding my sides. Don't ask me why I found it extremely funny, I just did. It was a bit of humor in all of this chaos. However, I did not leave my post by the door - even though it was locked - until I heard Cato's retreating footsteps.

-----

It quickly dawned on me that my time in the Capitol would be coming to an end rather soon, and I'd be in the arena within a few days. Unfortunately, I couldn't keep my mind on that. Not today, at least. Why? Because today I would be impressing the Gamemakers and potential sponsors. Today I would show off my brilliant knife-throwing skills, and would be given a score on a scale from one to twelve. I refuse to accept anything lower than a ten.

Of course, there was more on my mind than that. Such as beating Cato. Oh, I would go absolutely insane if that blonde fiend acquired a higher score than me. There was no possible way he could get a higher score, I suppose. He didn't take anything serious, did he? No, he was too concerned with his looks and his "bad boy" image. Certainly he wasn't as tough as he wanted everyone to think he was. Then again, I don't really know that much about him.

Snapping myself out of my thoughts, I stretched out on the long couch in the living room and turned on the huge TV. Yeah, it was my lazy day, well, morning. There was no way I was going to go downstairs, train, get myself all tired and sore, and then try to impress everyone.

Then again, maybe it would be smarter to go downstairs and burn off some steam. The stupid Capitol sitcom was not helping my mood. It's not like I expected anything good, though. I mean, it's CAPITOL PEOPLE who created the dumb show.

The day went by at slug-speed, and I suspect part of the reason why, though I'd never admit it, is because I hadn't seen Cato all day long. He was one of the people to go downstairs and train. I think it's only because he wanted to flirt with Glimmer some more. I could be wrong. Wait - why did I even care? Why did I even put any thought into it? I'm turning into a freak!

As if on cue, Cato came barging into the room, shoving the double doors open dramatically, and panting like a dog. He was practically dripping in sweat and I was almost sure I could smell him from all the way where I was sitting. "What's your deal?" I scoffed, half amused at his entrance.

"Training, gorgeous, " he replied simply before disappearing down the hall. I heard the vague squeak of the shower being turned on.

Not that I was keeping track, but it was about thirty minutes before Cato came into view again. And, no, he was not in his boxers or anything ridiculous like that. He was just in his training pants (haha, that sounds so dumb), with his training shirt slung limply over his shoulder. His hair was still wet and he had a pine scent about him. Like some type of expensive cologne. Not cheap, sense-of-smell-killing junk.