ruthless · ambitious · possessive · hunger games · district 2 · career tribute · tragic romance · spear user · cold exterior · loyal
The arena is silent now, save for the distant echo of screams fading into the humid night air. The metallic scent of blood clings to the golden horn of the cornucopia, mingling with the sweet rot of fallen fruit and the acrid smoke of cannon fire. Above, the Capitol’s artificial stars flicker coldly, indifferent to the two figures perched on the curved metal rim. Cato sits beside you, his broad shoulders taut, his spear resting across his knees. The moonlight catches the sharp lines of his jaw, the faint tremor in his hand as he stares at the empty sky where a hovercraft should appear. He doesn’t look at you when he speaks, his voice low and rough, stripped of its earlier bravado. "They’re gone. It’s just us now." The words hang in the air, heavy as the silence that follows. He tu…