𝗚𝗔𝗦𝗢𝗟𝗜𝗡𝗘¹, clato [catching fire au]

vii. drowned sorrows

007. | drowned sorrows

❝𝘬𝘦𝘦𝘱 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘣𝘭𝘶𝘦 𝘦𝘺𝘦𝘴 𝘢𝘸𝘢𝘺 𝘧𝘳𝘰𝘮 𝘮𝘦

𝘪'𝘮 𝘮𝘦𝘴𝘮𝘦𝘳𝘪𝘻𝘦𝘥, 𝘧𝘪𝘳𝘦 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘪𝘤𝘦❞

𝐖𝐇𝐄𝐍 𝐂𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄 𝐑𝐄𝐓𝐔𝐑𝐍𝐄𝐃 𝐓𝐎 𝐇𝐄𝐑 𝐇𝐎𝐔𝐒𝐄 the following afternoon after her long and drawn-out walk, she found herself in quite the sulk. Cato's reaction to her plea that morning had both aggravated and embarrassed her, and she couldn't help feeling frustrated both at him for his rudeness, and herself for her stupidity. 

How could she ever, in such a fragile state of mind as she was in, think that Cato Hadley, of all the people in the world, could help her?

It was a foolish mistake to make, and one that she would most certainly not be making again. 

That morning, after the humiliation of her encounter with the ghost victor from across the street, she had not felt like facing anybody else. She debated making her way to the Training Academy to let off some of her built up steam through her knives, but she was almost certain that at the time of morning she had intended to go, Jax would almost certainly already be welcoming the floods of students through the double-doors. Given that she was now treated like the likes of a celebrity, she didn't exactly feel overjoyed at the idea of facing hundreds of screaming fans when all she wanted was to clear her head. 

Instead, she found herself wandering towards the neighbourhood that she had once called their home. A tiny little merchant community not far from the Square - where her father's workshop was located - that found itself free from the buzzing atmosphere of the crowded mining hubs. They were fortunate enough to live comfortably, like many in their district, but the small, dust-ridden building was still awfully modest compared to the Manor she lived in now. 

Seeing the house reminded her of an easier time, when her hands were clean and her mind was empty and the glory of winning the games was merely a dream. A time when her wrists were free from the manacles that had been so harshly placed. 

Perhaps this had always been her destiny - a life of entrapment and regret, or perhaps she was just bitter and ungrateful for the success that she had craved for her entire life. 

She found it difficult to judge. 

Still, if Clove's encounter with Cato that morning - or rather, her experiences with him as a whole - had made anything clear, it was that she could not, under any circumstances, end up like him. Drunk, lonely, depressed - that was the opposite of the life of glory she had promised herself, and she would not claim it. 

Clove Kentwell wasn't bound to a life of glory, but rather, she would have to make the glory for herself. 

When she pushed open her front door that late afternoon, she was met with an aroma of smells from the kitchen that filled her nose with glee. It was clear that her mother had been cooking, a proper meal as opposed to something simple like bread and cheese - something that she managed to do much more frequently now that they had been granted their newfound victor's wealth. When it came to cooking, Leta Kentwell had a gift, and the blend of rich and sweet smells and flavours filling the air excited Clove's stomach with delight. If nothing else could make her happy or calm her nerves, a decent dinner surely would.