You gave him love and affection, attention, protection.

It was another day of arguing with his father, Rhombus Thread, who happened to be District 12’s head peacekeeper. Cato couldn’t tell you how it happened, because one moment he was eating dinner, the next he was in a screaming match. “And before you leave to Panem knows where, stop hanging out with that weakling!” Rhombus yelled, not caring how harsh he sounded. “Or you’ll become weak too.”

How could Cato ever miss something that he never had?

After that horrible argument, Cato did the only thing he knew how to, which was running over to your place. The frantic knocking already let you know that he was here, and what he was here for. “I feel like I’m chasing a ghost. I don’t know who he is, or where his is.” Cato vented, his hands curling up into fists.

He would never judge ya, because everything worked out without him.

Once he caught a reflection of himself in the mirror, Cato turned to you with tears in his eyes.

“Do I look like him?”