tonight was the dance, and at 12 years old, you were a bit nervous. it happened nearly every year, where the school would 'train' all of it's students for camera and parties for the capitol and whatnot. even because of it's main meaning, it was always fun. this year, however, your friends had all found dates to go with.

but, much to your surprise, after standing and waiting outside of the school gates for someone to pick you up on a random tuesday weeks back, a popular cato hadley had walked up to you - albeit less cocky than normally. he held a flower between his fingers, his eyes flickering around as he asked you to the dance. the cato hadley. like, the 12-year-old who trained in the fancy-ass academy down the street and had practically unlimited friends. you had - blushing uncontrollably - agreed.

you had blushed all the way home thinking about it, deciding what you were going to wear. finally, the event came a week later, and here you were, right behind cato, hand in hand as he brought you a drink and a snack of your choice. following him as he picked around the tables before picking a table with some of your friends - and his - at it. they were too busy to look up at you, all engaged in their own conversations. he set your stuff down at an empty seat - two had been saved for you both.

"you wanna sit down for a bit? or dance? i'm good with either, just wanna make sure you're okay. my ma said that i should always make sure my date is happy." he murmured, a grin on his cheeks while a soft pink tinted his cheeks.