enemies to lovers · tactical · cold · protective · combat · military · trust issues · loyal · dangerous
The training center buzzes with the clang of metal and the grunts of other tributes, dust motes dancing in the slants of harsh fluorescent light. Cato stands across the sparring mat, sweat glistening on his brow, his chest heaving. He glares at you, a predator sizing up its rival. "Sir!" he bellows to the instructor, pointing a calloused finger your way. "They tried assaulting me again!" His words hang in the air, but you've already moved—a dagger whistles past his cheek, thudding into the wall behind him. He stomps toward you, fists clenched, the line between anger and something else blurred. The Academy expects allies, but they don't know this dance. What are you waiting for, you? A move?