I walk towards him, gripping my holdall tightly. The holdall is leather and with my slightly sweaty palms it feels like it's falling out of my grasp all the time. Its nerves I think. I'm nervous about meeting him again because the people around me, his fellow members of District 2 obviously don't like me for whatever reason. I'm also nervous about him, and seeing him again. The last time I saw him, I guess we could define ourselves as being together but not entirely. But I try not to focus on that, I focus on him. In particular his smile and the way that he's looking at me; the way that he looks makes me feel like something special and worth something.

When I get to a matter of steps in front of him he moves off the wall and towards me. What do I feel? Dread? Nerves? I don't know because in a second he pulls me into a short brief hug, which I quickly hug back. I've missed this kind of comfort. I mean, I've had verbal human contact but really nothing compares to being close to someone who understands you so much. It just feels... right to me.

"You look worried," he murmurs into my hair before he lets go, pulling back to look at me with a slight smile. I've missed that smile, the genuine side to him does make me feel as if I've missed him so much for only a few days.

But my cheeks burn a little under his gaze and I smile just slightly at him, I guess I'm not used to being under his scrutiny yet. Maybe I won't ever be, "Nice to see you too."

He smirks at me, or maybe my words. I can't read him very well, and to be honest it's annoying that I'm still like this around him; that I have to know what he's thinking. He knows me real well but it's not the same for me. I can't read him at all. Then he leans down slightly and places his hand over mine holding my bag, "I'll take this for you."

"I'm fine," I retort quickly like a reflex. It's almost as if this is one of the only things I say anymore, which wouldn't surprise me really. Why do I react so badly to his touch? Is it that foreign at the moment? Am I really that affected by him being away from me? I had to keep my mom happy at home a lot of the time by saying that I was fine, and now it's just kind of stuck.

He narrows his eyes as if he can read me. Oh jeez, I even feel like I'm in trouble somehow and then just like that and his voice becomes low and commanding, "Let me take it."

I sigh, knowing that he's won this battle because I don't want to argue with him. Arguing is something that I don't want to happen in however long I'm here for as this visit is meant to be about adjusting to 'normality' and spending time with him; so I want it to be worth something. But what exactly is he trying to do? Prove himself to be the gentleman? I let go and it leaves him with my bag, "Fine," I reply quietly.

"Stubborn as ever," he states with a smirk. I'm not sure if he's mocking me, but the smirk isn't exactly sinister. I'm not sure what he thinks, to be honest. I know what he said when we left the Capitol on the train meant that he cared, but right now I'm getting mixed signals. His physical behaviour was sweet but his actual speech... I don't know. It could be because of the people around us, the judging glances and the hushed whispers, but then this defies the idea of a fake relationship and it being public for everyone to see. Or this behaviour could be because he really doesn't like me after all.

What do I believe? I don't know. I'm not sure if I want to know or not.

"Nasty as ever," I retort whilst I fold my arms, but my voice is light and hopefully doesn't come across as rude in any way. I want to be as annoying as possible to him because he's being so strange to me and the only way my mind thinks is to be as strange back to him. Or mean.

He laughs before he beckons me outside through the train station exit, he goes first, leading the way for me, "Come on, let's get you home and away from people."

The way that he says this word makes me feel a little uncomfortable. He's almost degrading their status as humans but for what reason? Is this a side that I didn't realise was there before? Has he noticed their hostility to me or it he just being possessive? I follow him out and into the beaming sunlight of his District and its warm here already considering that it's around six in the morning. I'll have to take this jacket off when I get to his because the climate is so different to back home. I guess my district is quite north in comparison to here and from what I remember from school is that the further north you go, the colder the climate is.

And this terrain is completely alien to me as well, the ground is sand, not dirt and this along with the yellow stone houses makes for a strange sight for me. I guess nothing should surprise me anymore after being in the Capitol for those few days but still, I haven't been to another District before. It's something I never would have dreamed of if things were still relatively normal. But then again, in six months time I would have been to all of the Districts gloating about winning the Games and staring into the faces of dead children's parents. That is normal for the people of Panem.

But my mind right now is still on thinking about his words and what he really meant. I sometimes think that I overanalyse things, but if I didn't I wouldn't know as much as I do now, "What do you mean by people?" I query, mimicking his emphasis on that word so he knows what I mean.

He shrugs, "I guess we – me and you – are popular in any other District but here."

"But why?" This is a good start to my birthday; it's just exactly what I needed to hear. What was the point even of even coming here when people would just judge me and make me feel uncomfortable? But I should think that I didn't come here for them or their approval, I came here to see Cato. I shouldn't care about them and what they think because ultimately they are wrong.

"I didn't exactly fill the criteria of an expected victor, and neither did you. The only victors who my District will ever respect are the vicious ones, and only if they come from 2."

I can that already just by being here everything will not be the same. Being here will be uncomfortable, I think as my values and mindset is not the same as the people around me, "So they don't respect other 'career' victors?"

He rolls his eyes at my comment. Perhaps he's a little uncomfortable with this term but somehow, I find it hard to grasp this. There's so much I still don't know about him and maybe over these few days I'll get to know him a little better, "No. To most people District 2 is above every other District. The work ethic here is unreal as we're seen to serve and be the best to the Capitol. And because of this, I guess we're a wealthy District but also in major competition with District 1 and 4."

Competition between the Districts? I shudder at this thought as the brutality of 2 is just starting to show now. Never would I have guessed that there was competition to be seen as the best from the Capitol. The wealth is apparent here as I walk through; no-one wears dirtied clothes, children wear shoes, and I can't see at least one beggar here. The whole atmosphere is almost full of self-importance and worth. I look to my feet as we walk along, I guess I feel a little self-conscious of the gazes around me and also the conversation has dried up a bit. I'm not exactly sure what to say or do which never really helps a lot. I wish I was better with people.

But then as if he can tell I'm struggling with the conversation, he speaks, "I never asked how you were… ignoring the reason why you've come here."

I look at him with a slight smile, and he replies with his own, "Yeah, I guess I'm okay. Not exactly a hundred percent but better than what I was when you last saw me. What about you?"

A playful grin spreads across his face as we walk to out right down a solitary dirt track. I can see more elaborate stone houses which I assume make up District 2's Victor's Village, "I missed you a lot, but other than that I've been fine. Although now you make it sound as if you were sad about how we left each other the last time."

How we left each other… I blush slightly, remembering that train journey and our kisses. It cemented – at least to me – how we feel about each other. I respond with embarrassed glances every now and again along with pause filled speech which obviously give away how I'm feeling, "Oh n-no. That was uhm, nice."

He doesn't respond and I'm left wondering about him until he directs me to a house. It was two floors (like my house back home) and looks like it's been built recently. The whole row of victor's houses looks so tidy and nice, but lacks the greenery of back home. There is the occasional tree here but they're different to the ones I'm used to. Cato reaches into his pocket for a key and unlocks the front door, letting me go in first.

It's very much like mine back home, the layout is pretty much the same; wide open spaces and similar style wooden furniture. I expect to hear a family somehow when I go in but it's quiet. Is he alone? Does he not have a family? I don't want to ask just in case it sounds rude or hurts him, I guess he'll tell me when he's ready. But to think that he is alone makes me feel a little sad, is this why he trained to become a Career tribute?

"And would you like that to continue? Whatever you saw as nice?"

I look at him quickly, just catching him standing tall from putting my bag on the floor. I'm distracted away from my serious thoughts and he knows it. I can tell because he's got that grin still on his face which points out he's obviously doing this to make me uncomfortable or to feed that massive ego of his. It's probably a mixture of both knowing him.

I try not to show my embarrassment; which is hard because this kind of attention has never been given to me. I was the girl back home who put her head down and worked hard to keep her family afloat. It was pretty much common knowledge that I was destined to help my family for the rest of my days, not do anything for myself. I've never sought out this kind of attention until I met him and with his attention I feel alive for once.

I shrug, trying to ignore my semi-permanent blush that's on my face. I actually want to know what he thinks about our relationship (if I can even call it that) and this seems to be the perfect time. I don't want to be hurt and all I want to know it that his words on the train were true; 'I care about you'. Those words meant a lot and if he never meant them I want to know before I could really get hurt, "Well do you want it to?"

He takes a step towards me and I don't flinch, I want him to be close to me as I've missed him so much, "You know I'd want it to. I feel something for you and you know it."

I smile a little, I feel relief in his words. I think he means it and now I am beyond reassured. I feel so safe, "I guess. But it just seems a little unreal to me, however much I want it to continue."

"What do you mean by 'unreal'?" He frowns, not understanding what I mean.

"It's just… no-one has ever shown an interest in me," I blush a little, what I'm saying is deeply personal and to be honest embarrasses me. Nineteen years old and I'm like this, I'm ashamed, "So to have someone actually caring and showing an interest is hard to believe."

His eyes flicker to the floor before they come back to look at mine, a genuine boyish smile on his face. Cato takes a few steps towards me so he's just in front of me; a matter of centimetres between us. He places a kiss on my forehead, his lips just staying there even after. It's a silent reassurance to me and I'm grateful that he doesn't have to or want to argue with me, and because of this I close my eyes just to savour the moment a little more. He realises how much I want this to work maybe, and for this I'm so grateful.

"Happy birthday," he whispers. It sends shivers down my spine and for what reason I have no idea. I thought he would have forgotten anyway, it wasn't exactly a major detail to pick up and to even remember this is touching. It's nice to know that I'm not forgettable to someone.

"Thank you," I say just as quiet back. It doesn't feel right to be the louder participant when we are both equals here. I don't open my eyes, and instead I just keep them shut. I silently beg him not to move away from me.

I hear the rustle of fabric for a second before he pulls something from one of his pockets. I don't look because I'm too absorbed in the moment. Being here and like this feels good and makes me feel content. Then I feel him move away from my head and my eyes open as I feel his left hand pull my right towards him. He places something smooth on to it. I hesitate a glance to see what it is, and it's a flat box.

Is this a present to me? He doesn't have to, I'm not the type of person who wants to receive gifts because in my mind, the money can be put to better use. I feel like this is wasted money. I look up at him and I shake my head, "Cato you didn't have to-"

"But I wanted to," he interrupts calmly. His left hand hasn't quite left mine yet, "I wanted to get you something... memorable. Look just open it, please?"

I study the box a little more intently, "Fine," I bring my left hand to the box and pull the lid free; revealing the contents inside.

I think I gasp, I'm not sure if Cato reacts in the way that I would have hoped, I can see a concerned expression on his face. I'm staring at a necklace. It appears to have been made from some kind of light metal and a part of me prays that it isn't silver. If it is then this will be a very expensive and elaborate gift that I don't think I would want to keep. On the actual necklace chain is a silver coloured leaf no bigger than a finger nail. It is detailed with the little lines that even make up a real one. Obviously, a lot of thought has gone into this present.

"You don't like it?" Cato sounds panicked, I look up at him and I smile as widely as I can.

This is overwhelming. I wasn't expecting anything like this from him and now he's given me something like this, "I love it," I mean those words so much, maybe my emotion shines through a little but he looks at me and a small smile starts to return to his face, "It's just so much to accept. I've never... had anything like this."

"I just wanted something for you to keep that would be like a memory. A good memory," He sighs lightly and takes the chain gently from the box, and takes the box and lid from my hands into his pocket again, "If you wear this all the time, then hopefully then you'll be reminded that you're not alone. I'm always there." He walk round to my back to place it around my neck, the cold metal surprises me.

"You didn't have to buy me anything to tell me that though, I trust your word."

He sighs again, "Yeah but sometimes you need a little more than just a word, don't you?" His hands graze my neck as he does up the chain. I shiver in response because his touch is so ghostly it makes the hairs on the back of my neck stand up.

I grimace slightly because I know his words are completely true. Maybe I can change the subject onto something else, like maybe what this is made of, "This is just metal, isn't it?"

He's quiet for too long and his hands move to be on my shoulders. He sighs a lot; too much in fact that makes me uncomfortable, "You shouldn't worry about how much money I spend. I can spend what I want and besides, just be happy for once. It's your birthday after all."

I sigh this time. I'm a little awkward because I feel like I've dampened the mood again. I'm not exactly a glass half full person at the moment and I regret my words. I wish that things could change with me but I think this is who I am now; the new me. Before I could even say my reply I feel softness against my neck and arms go around my middle. I can tell that he's planted a small kiss on my neck and he engulfs me. But it's this action that makes me regret my latest words to him. I feel like I haven't shown how grateful I am.

"Thank you so much Cato, but it's just," I sigh, "I don't know how to accept it."

He moves his lips from my skin just slightly but he speaks low into it anyway, "You don't have to worry Willow, I know what you mean."

"I'm so bad with words," I mumble half to myself.

He plants another small kiss on my neck, "It's endearing."

"Me making a fool of myself?"

"Yes."

He lets go of me and I see a perfect opportunity to take a step forward to take off my jacket, feeling that the weather today is going to be way too hot. I put it on top of my bag and I turn around to him, my hands going to my neck and to feel the coldness of the silver, I'm assuming. I survey his face with a slight smile, and he looks at me with one on his. However much we're silent it's not awkward, but comfortable. My hands move around to the leaf and I pull it from my neck and twiddle with it in a slight nervous gesture.

"Thank you," I say again.

He smiles a little brighter, but his focus flickers to my neck and my fiddling for just a few seconds, "You know, you don't have to keep on saying 'thank you' all the time. I know you mean it."

"But it's not just that," I begin, "It's for letting me stay and for being so accepting and kind when others aren't entirely."

Cato looks like he's thinking for a few seconds, his gaze looks to the floor before he looks back at me. I think he's concerned, "Do you want to talk about it?"

I shrug, the smile on my faces fades as I mull over talking about everything that's happened. Since most of it concerns him and how my family don't trust him, I guess that we shouldn't really talk about this today. Maybe soon, "I do, but not today. I want today to be about you and me. Tomorrow maybe, I'll talk about it but not now."

"Okay," He starts before he walks up to me yet again. His blue eyes that I once found so cold don't just gaze at me, he's trying to read me and my body language. I wonder what he's thinking because that slight smile makes me feel comforted. And I now find his eyes comforting, and yet the irony is is that I find my brother's to be the cold ones in comparison. It's startling how people change. But the looks Cato gives me is intense; perhaps even hunger.

"What?" I ask, slowly becoming a little more uncomfortable. I move my hand from the leaf to my side instead, was it distracting him? His gaze is still just as intense however, so maybe it wasn't.

His smile turns into a vague smirk, "I'm just admiring you, if that's allowed."

I raise an eyebrow as a blush comes to my cheeks, this makes me extremely embarrassed. I'm still not used to this attention that he showers me with, "'Admiring me'?"

"You know what I mean."

Maybe I do, but I just can't accept this. Before I can argue he places his hands either side of my face gently. He strokes my cheeks a little with that small smile returning to his face, "That blush suits you y'know. It gives you a little more character."

He knows exactly how to annoy me and to make me squirm; I hate it. I want him to stop. I suddenly think that perhaps I should play his game by being mocking towards him. So I raise an eyebrow, "Please don't make me uncomfortable," I smirk at him slightly which reinforces that this is not me begging for him to stop. You have no idea how much I want to mock him and make him be the uncomfortable one for once.

But he seems completely unfazed by this, "I wasn't planning on doing that. But since a blush suits you so much..." He trails off and removes his right hand and places a kiss on my cheek over my blush, which causes me to blush even more.

I try and stop myself from getting embarrassed but it's really hard not to. He exploits my weaknesses well and this annoys me a lot because I can never seem to be the one who can find the weakness in him. Maybe I'll find a weakness during my stay, and then perhaps I won't feel so stupid. He doesn't move from next to my cheek and I feel a little more uncomfortable as all I can feel is his breath on my skin and his lips there. All this affection is a lot to get used to if I'm honest. I'm not used to it in the slightest. And what I hate is that he knows how to push my buttons.

"This isn't nice," I say, almost whining in annoyance, "You're being so mean to me. I can't help if I blush at things."

He pulls his head away a little so he can face me, his left hand still stuck to my cheek, "And that's why I love it. But if you're so upset with me being mean to you then this will make it up to you."

Cato leans down and places a soft kiss on my lips. It's so intoxicating and loving I close my eyes just to savour the moment more and more. He always pulls me in, and not vice versa as I guess I'm still not used to the idea of being with someone. I notice that this kiss is something gentle and meaningful, not mirroring the passion we always seemed to put into our kisses. This one reminds me of our public onstage kiss but this one has a lot more feeling put into it. It has our feelings in it not just desire. He moves his lips just slightly against mine as if he's testing my reactions to see if I want this. I do, and without hesitation I move mine against his but mirroring his gentleness.

My head is being tilted up a little more, the hand on my cheek moving my head closer just slightly. I almost forget that he's quite a bit taller than me, but not a ridiculous amount. I place my hands on his chest as if to cement him here with me because this keeps him within my grasp. His right hand is placed in the back of my neck with just a light touch, his fingers moving slightly in my hair.

After a few seconds I feel him pull away a little and I open my eyes, looking into his with a small smile on my face. In response he replies with a boyish grin of his own which obviously means he's pleased with himself.

"Did that make it up to you?" He whispers with a mischievous glint in his eye.

I shrug in an attempt to be playful, "It'll do I guess."

He laughs loudly and we just stay like that, both looking at each other for a few more seconds before I manage to wriggle out of his grasp. I think it becomes a little uncomfortable to be like that and I don't want to be constantly kissing him. I enjoy talking with him like he's a close friend too. He laughs again and I stick my tongue out at him briefly.

"You're cute when you're like this," he says with that grin still not leaving his face.

I sigh and give him a sarcastic response, "Isn't that nice."

He rolls his eyes and heads over to some kitchen cupboards as if to find something. Along the way he puts down the empty necklace box on the side. The place is immaculate and so clean; does he keep it like this all by himself? I guess though that we've only been in our news homes for a few days anyway. Things have happened quickly, "I was going to call you innocent but the sarcasm kinda ruined it for me."

Innocent? I run a hand through my hair as I try and work out how he could call me this. After everything I have done and seen I am not at all innocent really. I'm in a state of confusion as I begin to wonder whether Cato is completely blind to reality or not, "What do you mean by innocent?"

He turns around to look at me, and for a split second he looks slightly upset. Maybe a little bit angry too but it disappears after a split second and is replaced with a very small smile. So small it doesn't even look like he's happy, "You act so childish sometimes, and naïve too. Despite everything that's happened you're still the same person from before you walked into the arena."

But I can tell however that there's something else he means. He can't meet my gaze which obviously means something. Just tell me, please, I think. I don't want secrets between us. I want us to be trusting of each other and more importantly there for one another. This trust between us keeps me sane, and the thought of him hiding something reignites my fears that I had when I arrived.

By now he's already turned round to the cupboard and he brings out a small bottle of what appears to be pills. He places them on the side and closes the cupboard before turning around to me.

"You okay?" He asks with a subdued tone.

"Fine," I lie before I walk a little closer. I lean against the worktop island before I gesture to the pills, "You're not sick are you?"

He shakes his head, "No, they're just for keeping me healthy. Like vitamins and stuff. It helps with training too."

Vitamins. That word is foreign on my tongue; I'm not used to it. I daren't ask what it means in case it makes me look completely stupid. I fold my arms and watch him go to another cupboard and put on the worktop two glasses. Did he also say training? He stills does that? I guess he was a Career for a reason, that work ethic must still be there.

"Have you eaten today?" He asks, glancing at me as he walks over to the fridge. That appliance is something new to me too; it's strange how different my life is now. How there are so many more things that I hadn't even known about before. He opens it and pulls out a glass bottle of orange juice, I think, before he closes the fridge door and heads to the glasses.

"Yeah. I ate on the train," He pours the liquid into the two glasses and hands one to me and I take it with a small smile, "Thank you."

He nods before he takes a pill from the bottle and pops it in his mouth, before he takes a few sips of his glass of juice. He then sets the glass down and I take a few sips of mine to quench the thirst that I've been ignoring in favour of talking to him.

"It's not a bad thing to be called innocent y'know."

He's looking me in the eye with a slightly serious expression on his face. I nod slightly before I take another sip, ready to argue my point back, "But come on, Cato. I'm nineteen years old."

He sighs and I take another sip of juice before I set it down on the counter too, "It was… the way you were innocent and naïve that kept me human… in the arena," He struggles to get out the words, obviously uncomfortable with the subject. I don't blame him because talking about such events isn't something you want to do all the time. Particularly on what was meant to be a happy day. But this information is news to me and I can't help but smile a little at this, that it was my personality that helped him.

"Really?" I ask quietly, my gaze never leaving his eyes.

"Yes," he says simply with a smile.

I smile back widely before I become a little embarrassed I so I look to the floor and my right hand goes to twiddle with the leaf necklace again. It seems that I've got a new nervous habit to keep me occupied whenever I need it. My hand grazes my t-shirt fabric every now and again because it's quite high necked.

"Stop that."

My eyes dart up in surprise at Cato's commanding tone. That's when I see that hunger in in him that appeared just briefly earlier and for a second I'm afraid, "Why?"

He puts his hands in his pant pockets and gives me a smirk. His eyes roam my body for just a second, but even that is long enough to make me feel stupidly uncomfortable. I blush a little more as he approaches, I remove my hand from the necklace. But strangely enough he goes as if to walk past me, but stop next to my ear to whisper. Just close enough so his lips graze my earlobe.

He doesn't forget, does he?

He speaks in a low voice, one that promises something. But it's comforting in a way, "It makes me realise how stunning you really are and how you're my girlfriend."

He then walks to the living room side of the space around me, and I smile a little to myself. So this is where we stand after all; we're together and not apart. It takes me a few seconds before I turn around and follow him because his words have settled a lot of doubt, and that is one of the best birthday presents I could ever recieve.

{-.-}

I'm sorry to you all, I really am. Updates could be soon, or never. University takes pride of place.