Hunger Games The Steel Heart

Clove's arms were gripped behind her back by her father, her mother walking by her side dressed completely in yellow, the height of Capitol fashion. As they all walked into the Hadley's mansion, Clove's mother explained how beneficial this would be to her, marrying the Hadley's eldest son – Cato, a victor of the games – would bring her a life of whatever she wanted. Clove just constantly shook her head a little, not bothering to fight against her parents although she wanted none of this. She had grown up with a resentment to this guy as he used to belittle and fight violently with her in training. Both of them fighting for the one volunteering spot their district were allowed per year, but he had just beaten her to the mark and as she was being forced to the door of his family's mansion she could picture the smirk on his face that he aimed to her as he volunteered on the day of the reaping. The Sevina's walked through the Hadley's large hallway, being met by her future parents-in-law before they all jumped as they heard a large smash coming from the living room. Cato's mother whispered to Clove's parents "He's just calming down. He needs a little persuading, that's all. He'll know what's good for him when Clove walks in there" Clove looked almost violent, like she could've taken on all of them if she'd just pull the dagger from her thigh strap. But her father pushed her forwards by her back "Good idea. Clove, go and meet your fiancée" It was more of an order than a choice. So she kept slowly taking steps until she reached the doorframe, looking back to her parents as they smiled proudly at her before she closed the door, looking into the room to find Cato

And there he sat, surrounded by the debris of his rage. She watched as he stood, brushing off the grime. His stance was predatory and the storm in his eyes reflected the ball of contempt burning in her gut. They glared in silence until he let out a bitter laugh. "Of course. I had almost forgotten. But that's you isn't it? Clove Sevina. Small. Insignificant. Forgettable." Cato spit the words out and took a step back. He crouched down and picked up a particularly large shard of glass. His fingers skirted the edges. "I come back from hell and get auctioned off. To peasants. Just another gimmick," his fist tightened, "just another pawn." The blood trickled down his arm as he let the piece fall from his hand.

Clove's jaw was ticking in frustration and utter hatred of what was going on, sure she had expected an arranged marriage, but never to this fool. Even the mere sight of him made her blood boil and the ardor stir within her cold heart. However, this couldn't distract her from the man standing in front of her so despising even her name. Once the shard of glass hit the floor, she managed to get out a few words between gritted teeth "Funny you should mention my name….I figured that your memory was liken to a gold fish. Or has your intelligence risen to that of a snake?" As she said this, her tone was cold and calculated as her body posture began to shift. Unknowingly she was standing in a defensive position at the moment, before her stance was nothing but poise and the posture she had been whipped into after losing her chance at the Games; now it morphed into a covering move. Even though she had a dress on, her legs were parted slightly and her hand falling to the hem of it, ready to slide the dagger from her thigh should the need arise.

He stood slowly, watching her. In a way, he admired Clove. The thigh sheath was a nice touch. Although if she thought that he wouldn't notice her reaching for it, she must have been more naive than he'd remembered. There was a reason, after all, that he had gotten into The Games instead of her. She was rash and took too much pleasure in the hunt. She would've been dead before the first night had ended. He shook his head and turned to the door.

She swallows harshly, watching every move he made, and stepping one back for every one of his forward as he advanced toward the door. As her feet carried her backward however one thing she didn't account for was the heels she had on and so seconds later she was on the floor in the pile of glass. While cursing under her breath she managed to pull herself up again, trying to pick the shards from her elbows and thighs. Clove knew this was a dumb move, but there was no way in hell he was going back into where their parents were looking like this. Even the slight satisfaction she knew he'd get from seeing her in pain was to much for her; so she locked her features and started pulling the slivers out from her skin. To keep her mind off this, she began to think of her parents getting her into this; and this made her will even more for her to hate Cato. If only he wasn't so rich and famous now, she could have gotten someone who was bearable at least. But no, it had to be her worst enemy on the planet instead of some old man she could easily manipulate and get her way around things. Clove even wished it was some old codger now, at least he would die soon and leave her be; but with Cato she was stuck with his arrogant as for atleast another 50 years if not longer than that. Maybe she could poision him, kill him in his sleep, anything to save her from this hell.

Those thoughts were swirling around in her mind as she plucks the last slivers of glass from her body; it wasn't bleeding much and the red floral print dress she had on helped hide it a bit. So she dusted her tights off, fluffed her hair and went back out to where both sets of parents and now Cato was waiting. Her thoughts still swirled around killing that arrogant son of a bitch, and this took to the edge off a bit; well long enough to keep her poise to see it done. With all luck on her side, they could have a marriage simply on paper and she could get down to some real plotting in a few weeks after that; after all, she didn't want suspicion to rise so soon in this marriage.

He settled in to the seat and put on his most charming smile. They chatted idly, conversation only lulling when Clove limped back in. He raised an eyebrow and turned when her mother addressed him. "So tell us Cato, how was it? In the arena? It must have been amazing, all the fame and attention." His parents blanched as his smile became forced. "Yes. Amazing. Very invigorating." He dug his nails into the cut from earlier. Now is not the time to slip into a memory. He smiled once more and the conversation slowly returned to its previous pace. Clove looked at him. Clove unnerved him with that stare. She couldn't know. That wasn't made public. He looked away and shook the blood off of his hand.

Her eyes narrow as she sees the cut upon his hand and the fresh blood dripping from it. She knew that he had ,had the same training she did; never show a drop of blood to your enemy, as it was a sign you had been hurt. This made a cog spin in that cold calculated mind of hers as to why he was doing this. Clove had seen the trainers whip his ass over, and over again and he would merely wince, not near the look he got upon his face as he shook the blood off. Now as the blood drops slowly sink into the cracks of the wood floor, she knows for sure something was up with him. She still wanted to kill him, but maybe she could delay it slightly and squeeze a little information out of him. Even though her heart was made of cold hardened steel, her mind still had a little use for this man she was to wed.

He was tired and he was sick of pretending. He just wanted them to go. Clove was staring at him like he held the answers to the mysteries of the world, if only she could crack him open. That is, if she would put away her homicidal thoughts. He had seen enough to know when someone had murder on the mind, and she was no exception. The wedding would come soon enough and aside from public appearances, they wouldn't have to associate. He could take on a mistress and she could do as she pleased; which hopefully did not include his imminent death. In reality there was no real reason to prolong this meeting.

As the Sevinas made their way into the entryway, his mind wandered back to the exchange in the living room. She certainly was...something. He wasn't about to look into it. He'd just be thankful when the whole ordeal was over with.

Clove follows her parents out of the grand accommodations and almost spit upon the ground as she thought of what was to come from that house. There was no way she wanted him as a husband and the list was endless as to why; he was mean, arrogant, and violent victor ,plus this was practically cradle robbing. There had to be ways around spending much time with him, and she could carry out her plot later on as soon a his guard as dropped. She had seen that last look he gave her, as they had finally exchanged a few words in leaving; and it wasn't a look boiling with hatred.

On her way home with her parents, she began to realize something was dead wrong, Ever since her parents had pulled her from training he had been fighting to get that same rush a fight had. Clove had tried almost everything from running until she would almost collapse to watching horror movies on repeat, and nothing got her off like fighting did. Now all that was swirling in her brain was that she had gotten a little more of that rush back again into her system; giving the absence of it a chance to be felt.

~A week later, in Cato's mansion once again~

Their parents had wanted them to meet once again, to arrange some of the things for the weddings. Clove was on her last nerve and ready to snap before she even got over there; her mother had been pestering her all week long to go look at dresses, take pictures with Cato for the magazines, and even spent an entire day giving her a speech about how to pose with him. Thankfully, she held her temper in throughout the week but was ready to give it one more go with Cato now. One last fight she thought to herself as she exited the car, one more chance to smash his filthy fucking brains in.

Clove was dressed casually on the outside, but brimmed for a fight within; after convincing her mother she didn't need a dress for this, she finally got away with some shorts. There was still a pair of throwing knives strapped to her thigh and now there was one in a shoulder holster too, under a light hoodie she had thrown on. She didn't care if she drew blood, she didn't care if she got in trouble now. She had, had it and was ready to get her rush yet again.

Now as she marched across the foyer inside, she left her mother behind in the car and was waiting on Cato to come out once more. She had sent one of the Avoxes after him that had been mopping the elegant tiles that her boots were soiling. Now as she waits, her anger only grows and even her eyes seem to take on licks of fire as her body tenses up, waiting on him to step into the room.


End file.
