Yours [Prim/Cato]

Chapter 13 - The Interview #2

Everyone requested this.. Seriously, every comment that I got requested him, soo, your wish is my command!

Prim's POV:

"What are you doing here?" Cato asked, turning to face me from the edge of the building.

Oh my gosh, Cato is here. The butterflies and ants and every other animal that ever was in my body started to rise in numbers, and my heart started pounding as Cato's lips turned up into his signature smirk.

"Umm.." I stuttered. I was way too surprised, but extremely happy that he was up here because we could finally spend some time alone.

I realized that we have never really had any romance times like I expected relationships, or whatever we are, to have. We've never laughed with one another, talked normally, or anything else. Our encounters are usually quick, and either filled with an argument or heated kissing. I didn't mind either one because they always ended in kissing either way, and I loved kissing Cato.

"Well?" he asked, approaching me. He was wearing a tight t-shirt that emphasized the body I'm sure he was proud of and shorts, his hair tousled in a way that would make me imagine that he just got out of bed.

"I just needed some air so I came up here," I finally answer after my awkward staring session at his appearance. "What are you doing here?"

Cato shrugs and takes my hand, pulling me toward the edge of the building where he was just standing. "I couldn't sleep," he answers, taking me to look at all the beautiful lights of the Capitol. The buildings were lit up and different colors dominated the sky, creating such a beautiful view.

"Why couldn't you sleep?" I ask him as he wraps his arms around my back to the front of my waist. He pulls my back to fit his front and nuzzles his face into my neck.

"Bad dream," he mumbles.

"About what?" Cato doesn't answer me, just shrugs and watches the lights turn on and off. I had a sneaking suspicion that it had something to do with his father, but I didn't try to push the question any more because I don't want to see him hurt like the time in the bathroom.

We stayed silent as he held me, listening to the distant cheers that would reach to the top of the building every now and then.

I peeked over the edge of the building, trying to see if I could find where the cheers were coming from. It was hard to figure out since the building was so high up in the air, but I tried my hardest to spot them.

"You won't find them," Cato tells me, pulling me back from the edge. His grip had tightened on me.

I frowned and turned around to face him. "Why not?"

"They're using some new tent technology that hides them, so from the top, you see a reflection of a deserted street, but if you go downstairs, they'll be partying right outside the door," he explains, pointing to what appeared to be a deserted street. I could see small waves, but nothing much.

"Oh," is all I say, returning to silence. "How did you know that?" I ask him.

Cato shrugs. "My stylist brags about the wonders of Capitol nights all the time," he answers plainly, staring out at a flashing green light in the sky.

"Hm. What would they be celebrating anyway?"

"The Games, of course," Cato answers, rolling his eyes. "You know that the Capitol people take pride in murdering 23 people every year."

"If it's a party for us, why wouldn't we be invited?" I ask. They're celebrating us, but not celebrating with us. Sometimes I think the Capitol people can be so stupid.