Clato

chapter five

"Whatever." He snapped, twirling a thin piece of rope around his fingers and staring at it blankly.

"I shouldn't have taken the tesserae. I know. I did the wrong thing. I put protecting you, when you really don't need protection, in front of both of our futures, and I shouldn't have. I'm sorry. Ill go now." She headed for the door.

Cato let her go, he was in too much of a mess to go after her. He rolled on to his side, facing the wall.

Clove went back into her room and cried more. Cato hadn't forgiven her. What did she expect? She didn't deserve forgiveness. But still, she had hoped... Her last thought as she drifted off to sleep was how useless hoping was.

Cato smashed a hole in the wall with his fist, angry at himself, angry at everyone.

Clove had a disturbed sleep, filled with nightmares of Cato dying. At about 3 am, she dreamt that he killed her. She got up for breakfast, unwilling to sleep through anymore of that torture.

Cato hadn't slept; instead he was pacing back and fourth in his room. Drinking alcohol that he had got from the bar compartment. His eyes were bloodshot and his hands trembled.

* * *

Clove looked at the food and tried to take a bite of a sweet looking cake, but spitting it straight out. She couldn't eat it. She tried some chocolate. It wouldn't go down. She felt sick. She went to get a drink from the bar cart.

"You both, eh?" The barman them asked.

"Pardon me?" Clove replied, puzzled.

"The boy came in a few hours ago. Boy, did he look like he'd been having a rough time if I've ever seen one! Come to think of it, you don't look any better." He said, motioning to the wet patch at the top of her dress from her tears. Clove felt even more guilty now that she knew what he was going through because of her. She ordered her drink and went back to her room. She sat down on the floor and brought her knees up to her chin, silently sipping her drink, hoping to drown her sorrows.

Cato had drunk several bottles, he got up and staggered out of the room. Still shirtless, he had been crying though.

Clove soon felt lightheaded, but still felt just as sad. She lay down, still on the floor, still with her knees tucked under her chin, and she cried yet again.

Cato stumbled down the hall, leaning against the walls to keep upright. He crashed through the door into Clove's room and fell down. He laughed incoherently. "Haiiii!"

* * *

Clove rolled over to avoid his fall just in time. She soon remembered what the barman had said. He must've had a lot of drinks.

"Hi" She replied quietly.

Cato looked at Clove and blinked.

"Oh, hey babe." He grinned and leaned over, kissing her on the lips.

Clove felt guilty kissing him like this, but she didn't hesitate to return his kiss. She couldn't. She wrapped her arms around his bare back, feeling his smooth skin. She'd heard stories of people getting others drunk to get the truth out of them. What if these were his true feelings? What if he still loved her?

Cato deepened the kiss, his hands on her waist, pulling Clove into his lap in one swift gentle movement.

Clove giggled as she kissed him.

"You're drunk." She stated.

"Nahhh." Cato shook his head. "No I'm not." He frowned slightly.

"So that's why you practically fell on me. Listen. I love you. But the real you is mad at me. I'm not going to take advantage of you being like this." She kissed him on the forehead and walked out of the room, knowing how awkward it would be when he was sober again if she stayed.

Yet wanting nothing else but to stay.

Cato frowned and then sighed, confused. He ended up passing out on the floor of Clove's room.