games → CATO HADLEY ✓

t e n

| " D E S I G N . " |

___♔___

I wake up the next day to silence. It's peaceful today. Today is a free day for all of us tributes, as far as I know.

But for now, I need some company.

I get out of bed, and grab some clothing from my closet. I put the clothes on, and put on some combat boots, then throw my hair up into a messy bun. I skip breakfast, sneak out of the living quarters, and get into the elevator. I press the button '1,' then wait for the doors to close.

The elevator seems to move slow, so I tap my foot to calm my nervousness. I've been meaning to talk to Cato since yeaterday, but I couldn't bring myself to do it. So now is the best time.

I walk into District one's living quarters, and look around. Glimmer sits at the dining table, drinking a glass of milk while eating. No one else seems to be awake.

"Hey, Taylor," Glimmer greets. "Whatcha need?"

"I was wondering if Cato is here." I say. "I need to talk to him."

"Yeah, he's out on the balcony." She raises an eyebrow. "How did you know he'd be here?

"I didn't." I smile.

I walk towards the balcony, and slowly open the door. Cato's large frame stands at the railing of the balcony, overlooking the Capitol. Cato doesn't budge as I close the door behind me, and walk over to him.

"It's beautiful, isn't it?" I ask softly, stepping beside of him. He stares straight on, not responding. "I love the sights here. It soothes me when I need comfort."

"Why are you here?" He questions, looking over at me.

"Because I was stupid." I answer bluntly. "I shouldn't have took the advice that Ceneca gave me. I shouldn't have ignored you. It was wrong."

"You're finally figuring that out?" He chuckles. "I feel like you're only apologizing to get on my good side for the games."

"That's not it." I shake my head. "I've been in constant guilt since yesterday. I really am sorry, Cato."

"Why did you listen to him?" He asks.

"I thought it would be the best decision." I reply. "You scared me at the time."

"Are you still scared of me?" He stares down at me.

His ocean blue eyes get me every time . . .

I look away from him, turning my head. Cato let's out a loud sigh, and runs his hands through his hair several times. "Why are you so scared of me?"

"I don't want to be scared of you." I huff. "And I'm not really scared of you. I'm just scared of the games, of what could happen."

"I don't get it." He whispers, grabbing my chin, and tilting my head up so that my eyes meet his.