Her Love, His Life - A Cato Hadley Story

~Chapter Seven~ Truce

Elijah hustled into her room, not bothering to talk to Cato or either of her mentors. She shut the door and locked it behind her, leaning against it for a moment to catch her breath. She hurriedly took off the crown that previously lay delicately on her head. She then slid out of the shimmering gown she wore, with the heaps of silken fabric falling to the floor.

She hurried to the bathroom and peered inside. Her eyes widened in shock. Before her lay a massive shower, complete with hundreds of buttons for scents and types of wash. 

She turned the water on hesitantly, setting the stream to a gentle cascade that fell down her back, wetting her long hair. She swiped through the scents, ultimately settling on a cherry scent. The shampoo sprayed into her hair, and she massaged it in, her eyes closing happily.

Elijah proceeded with a heavy goo that sprayed to her legs. She winced as it stung, but she relaxed when she saw that it had removed the hair from her legs. She pressed another button, and the conditioner sprayed into her hair, this time a mix of cherry and a sort of chocolatey smell.

Her mind wandered as the little metal handles massaged the knots in her muscles as well as the body wash, her thoughts often lingering on what was to come in the next three days. What would happen during training? Would she get more allies other than Cato? Was siding with the Careers really a good option?

She sighed audibly, the handles having been long done with their massage, and the water jetted harshly down onto her head, brushing out each and every strand.

A towel rack moved towards her as she opened the door, and she wrapped herself in a soft lilac colored one. She walked to the hair dryer and stood underneath it. Within seconds, her hair floated down over her shoulders in a long, silky blonde curtain.

She removed the towel, having no need for it anymore, and she looked at the wardrobe. A small pad resided at the front, to which she poked, prodded, and swiped to find an outfit most suitable for her.

She ultimately chose a simple, but comfortable onesie. It was grey, and the inside lining was fleece. She smiled at the childishness of it, but her smile quickly faltered. How long would her childish innocence last? She wasn't sure if she was going to kill people in the Games- she hoped she wouldn't. But she knew that if becoming a murderer was what would bring her home to Cassius, she would wipe out the entire Arena in a heartbeat.

She slipped out of the door, her slipped padding lightly across the polished floors. She walked into the kitchen, her glance catching on the familiar silhouette that sat against the windowsill. 

Cato stared out of the window, seemingly unaware of the presence of the girl in the kitchen behind him, but that was not the case. 

He head her very easily, his hands tightening in their clasped state around his legs that were tucked up slightly. He wore a simple pair of sweatpants and a white t-shirt that accentuated his broad muscles. He didn't bother turning to look at her. Not just yet.

Elijah worked her way through the kitchen, haphazardly throwing her hair into a ponytail as she picked out ingredients. She plucked up bananas, strawberries, and vanilla extract, among several other things.

Within minutes, multiple different kinds of fruit lay on the counter, her fingers drumming lightly on the edge of the marble countertop, before she spun and grabbed a small knife.

Cato had heard the noise coming from the kitchen. As his eyes fell on the girl bustling around the kitchen, he was surprised, to say the least. He thought she would have grabbed something and left. Instead, she was making a full-blown something.

His eyes fixated intently on her handiwork with the knife. She just kept chopping away, ignoring the feeling of a pair of eyes watching her. 

"Can't sleep?" Cato asked, his voice gruff. Elijah stopped cutting the fruit and gave him a deadly look.