A/N: This is set years after the Rebellion and the 74th Hunger Games. It's based off of my D2 fanfic.
"Atala, who's grave is this?" I look at Vick Hawthorne's daughter and smile before looking at the gravestone that her small finger is pointing at. My heart sinks.
"This is Clove's. Sh-she died in the 74th Hunger Games." I stare down at my best friend's grave sadly. Why did I come here, again?
"Who's he?" She asks, pointing to the gravestone next to Clove's.
"Cato." I struggle to keep my voice steady.
"Did you know him?"
"Yes." I'd rather not elaborate.
"Did you love him?" Her bright gray eyes are wide with curiosity, and for a minute I flash back to when Bell and Leah had asked me the same thing, their eyes widened and giving me this same look.
"...Yes." I swallow hard, forcing back the tears that want to fall down my face. I don't want to cry. Not here, and certainly not now.
"Did Clove?"
"In a brother-sister way, yes."
"I was told not to ask you about him." she looks so sweet and innocent.
I smile. "By who? Gale?" She nods. "Tell your annoying uncle that I am perfectly capable of-"
"Krya!" Gale's voice rings out across the cemetary. Immediately, she turns and runs to him at the wrought-iron gates. I stare at Cato's grave for a minute before turning and leaving.
In almost twenty years, I haven't cried about him. I've thought of his death, of him, of what we could've had, but I haven't cried. Cato wouldn't want that. He and Clove shouldn't have died. Bell, Leah, Saylee, and Jake shouldn't have been murdered.
I hope that Clove and Jake are happy together.
I hope that Saylee's fallen in love.
And secretly, I hope that wherever he is, Cato is waiting for me. Because if I haven't forgotten about him, why would it be alright for him to forget about me?
