Into The Wilderness: A Hunger Games Story

7: Wild Impulses and Screw-Ups

Cato's P.O.V.

It's always the nicest people that get to me. I personally think it's odd, simply because they annoy me. Mean people...well I can usually deck 'em, then they'll avoid me. But nice people...especially because normally they have a lot of people surrounding them daily, you can't deck them. Then you'll be viewed as someone who decks nice people for no apparent reason. And you can't deck yourself. That would be stupid.

And it would probably hurt a lot too. At least it will if you do it right.

So, being mean to nice people is something I'm not too good at.

Yet it's something I wish I were.

Prim's P.O.V.

The day he doesn't glare at me will be a cold day in hell. But the odd thing is, I'm actually not looking forward to it. In these past few days, I found that I actually enjoyed being annoying for a change. It gives me something to look forward to, some semblance of a routine that I'm able to rely on.

We're still in training and I'm watching him try his hand at the spears. He somehow manages to push them straight through the gut of the dummy from at least ten yards away, leaving the person to a slow, agonizing death. I turn as the blood drains from my face when I picture that person being me.

I do my best to contain my shudder at the possibility and keep my gaze intensely focused on the length of rope in front of me. Peeta is off on the other side of the gymnasium lifting weights, graciously giving me space to think. Now that I'm actually thinking, I'm realizing that that's probably not a great thing.

As I'm struggling with the knot I'm working on, strong arms somehow loop their way around my waist and I feel a hard, muscled chest pressing against my back.

I stop breathing immediately and watch in awe as his swift fingers deftly tie the puzzle that was set in front of me. Somewhere in the middle of all this, I begin breathing again and I inhale his musky scent.

He smells like the woods and sweat and the shower shampoo and...him. I'm inhaling the scent greedily before I realize that I'm supposed to hate him. Ironically, it tricked me into a false sense of security.

Even though it feels like it's been hours, it's really only been a few seconds, not nearly long enough for him to notice my slip-up, or at least I hope. He's still re-tying the mess of a knot I'd made such a futile attempt at, and it ends up perfect.

Why am I so unsurprised by this?

I stiffen, and then turn quickly in his arms so that our faces are only mere inches apart. My eyes narrow at the burly boy behind me as he pins me against the table.

"I suggest you step away, Two," my voice laced with venom. I actually think I'm enjoying this position much more than I should.

In response to my demand, he leans only closer with an arrogant smirk on his face. Now we're only centimeters apart. All I can do is pray that if he feels my pounding heart, he'll interpret it as fear. It's better than the alternative, which is a thought I can't even believe I'm entertaining.

He leans down even closer, and my heartbeat speeds up as he brushes his lips against mine ever so gently. My eyes are fluttering closed.

This is bad. This is very, very bad. The voice in the back of my mind is screaming at me to get away.

But it feels so...so right. I feel so secure in his arms. I feel so protected and comforted that I can only pray that he never lets go.

And when he does, it's far too soon for my taste. Unless I'm really conceited or something, I think it's due to Peeta ripping him off me, screaming in his face while Peacekeepers swarm them like bees to a beehive.

Not, of course, that he can ever know that.

Cato's P.O.V.

It's all too easy. She's too easy.

She's standing at the rope and snare station trying to get a knot that is seemingly difficult for her. Lucky for me, I've mastered this one a million times when I'm trying to get someone to dangle from a tree by one leg. Let me just say - that was hysterical by the way.

So I sneak up to her, snake my arms around her waist, and tie the knot with ease.

Is it just me, or is she breathing faster?

Nope, she's breathing much too fast for it to be normal. Like I said: way too easy.

Suddenly, she stiffens and whirls so our faces are only inches apart. She looks directly into my eyes and hisses "I suggest you step away, Two," and I smirk. I know I had some kind of effect on her. Now to determine what exactly it was.

In response, all I do is lean down even closer to her so our faces are even closer together. I am suddenly well aware that everyone is frozen and staring at us.

Well, glaring in Glimmer's case.

On a wild impulse, I bend over even further so my lips are only barely ghosting over hers.

I'm about to kiss her for real, just to see if she'll let me, when I'm suddenly ripped from my stance and my eyes fly open.

Surprise, surprise, it's none other then Bread Boy.

Right now, I'm pissed for him ruining the moment that would have given me the leverage that I so desperately needed over her. My eyes flashed at him cruelly.

She actually thought I wanted her. Ha!

As if.

She's too puny for my taste. She's too innocent.

No, you know what? I'm beyond pissed, and let me tell you, Bread Boy has just made the wrong decision of wrong decisions: messing with Cato Hadley.