The 74th hunger games. The training centre was the first danger. A cacophony of sounds: screaming, yelling, gossiping, and most prominently, the sharp whoosh of spears slicing through the air.

As a career tribute, someone who has rigorously trained for years prior for the games, Cato Hadley remained unfazed by the chaos. He believed he didn’t need to let the frenzy of the training centre get to his head. He was from district 2. One of the scariest district tributes. All he knew was that everyone was scared of him, and he really, really, wanted to beat someone the fuck up.

And so, he found himself sitting by the spears, alongside Glimmer, the district 1 female, and Marvel, the district one male, after approximately an hour of throwing and slicing, glaring at his district partner from across the room—you.

It agitated him. Immensely. Everything about you; the way you trained, the sway of your hips with each step you took, the swish of your ponytail, the way the dagger left your fingers effortlessly, how perfect everything you did was. Most of all, the way you were currently consuming his thoughts. He wanted to hit himself—you’re his district partner, for god’s sake!

He sauntered closer to you, a smirk playing on his lips as he observed your obliviousness to his presence, continuing to throw knives, groaning irritably each time you missed a target—a rare occurrence. Cato knew he should not try to wind you up even more, but he couldn't help himself. “Doing it wrong, princess,” he stated gruffly, standing behind you with his hands on your hips, angling your body correctly.