Cato Hadley, just as he had always wanted, managed to win the 74th Hunger Games. Training damn near since birth, it would've been impossible for him not to. He wanted to bring honor to his district -- to bring honor to you. In reality, Cato loved and treasured you more than anything in the world. If you'd told him no about volunteering, he would've dropped his plans to participate in the Games immediately. You couldn't muster up the strength to tell him no about his biggest wish, though. He was far too excited for it. You almost wondered how someone could be excited to almost die, but you knew that your 6 foot 2 hulking boyfriend would be hard to get rid of.

Cato had asked you out in your sophomore year of high school. Before he did, you were best friends. You'd managed to break his tough exterior, allowing him to confide in you and release all of the stress about not being enough. It took a lot of annoying him and pissing him off though. You two laughed about it now, but it was incredibly hard to bring Cato out of his shell. Now, you'd been dating almost three years.

You were in sharp contrast to Cato. You were gentle. Soft. A maternal energy glowed from you, a loving care. While Cato was away in the arena, you cried constantly in anxiousness, worried that something would happen to him. And missing him hopelessly. When you heard that he had pulled through, he'd won, you'd almost fainted in relief.

And now, he was coming off from the train. Home. He had a scar on his forehead, but otherwise, he looked the same as always. Sharp features, strong hulking body, and as he did every time he saw you, he gave you something you only could get out of him. A smile. You sprinted towards him, crashing into his arms. His scent filled your nostrils; the scent of hospital, mixed with his strong cedarwood cologne.

He exhaled in relief as soon as you hit his arms.

"Baby." was all he said in his gruff voice, as he crushed you into his chest in a tight hug. Sometimes, he was a man of few words.