True Love || Clato

The Hunger Games

*Cato's POV*

We were given enough days to impress everyone and gain sponsors. Now, it's our time to fight. Fight to death. I'm not even afraid. I'm not bragging but I'm 100% sure that I'm gonna win.

*smirks*

This is it.

*countdown .. 8, 7, 6, 5, 4, ...*

*cannon goes*

The game had begun.

I run as fast as I can to the cornucopia. I immediately grab weapons .. Sword is my specialty.

Let the killing machine do his works, Oh. It's me. How silly. Focus Cato. Focus.

Bloodlust. Lethal. Vicious.

I'll give them the game they want.

Clove ..

Clove ..

Clove ..

Can't take her off my mind.

"So what do you usually do back in your district?" Glimmer interrupted my deep thoughts.

"Train. That's what we usually do. We're train to perfection that's why I'm here."

Glimmer smiles,

"Do you have a girlfriend?' she asked again.

"No" I answered sharply.

"That's impossible."

"I swear. I don't have one." I smiled. Zora. Well, maybe.

"Yeah. You don't have one for now. But you used to have many before." Marvel interrupted.

Then we erupted in laughter. But it doesn't make sense.

"Okay. I used to have one. Just one." I answered earnestly.

"But is there a lucky girl back there who gives you inspiration?"

I smiled. I can't hide it.

"Yeah"

Without hesitation.

"I have to make it back home. I need to win just to be with her."

Glimmer and Marvel look at each other.

"We may be allies for now. But this is a competition. We all wan't to win."

"I know."

The first day is done. Only 11 tributes left. 12 down and I'll make it back home.

Call me traitor. I don't care. I know my conscience will haunt me. I'll do whatever it takes.

---

Early in the morning. I already left Glimmer and Marvel who are still sleeping.

I have to haunt down other tributes. Then I'll be back for them to finish what I started.

Sounds like a serial killer huh?

I was about to have a drink when I heard something snap.

"Who's that?" I readied my weapon.

Then the boy from District 7 shows up. His hands trembling while holding a knife.

He attempted to throw a knife at me. Which seems that he's poorly skilled on it.