3 ~ Victors' Village

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I feel a subtle twitch in my arm as I gently shake the black skillet filled with eggs that I held. The kitchen was dim, except for the traces of sunlight that increasingly crept their way into the room through the windows as the sun rose. Ana sits pulled up close to the polished gold table that sat in our dining room, scooping spoonfuls of eggs and potatoes into her mouth.

It had been another four months since I had been to District 2. The day I met Cato's family was my first and only time visiting it. Since then we had only seen one another one other time. Technically we were allowed to see each other in person, but only if there was a train running directly between our districts, which was quite rare. Most trains ran through the Capitol before anything else, the only ones running between districts held government officials on their way to meetings or interviews. They were also usually late at night or early in the morning, and they never really announced when they were so trying to find out a day where Cato could catch a train was hard. Luckily he was able to get on one and visit me a few weeks ago, he stayed a couple of days but had to go as soon as he found the next train back.

It sucked, not being able to see him as much as I would have liked to, but we were lucky the Capitol had been so "generous." The surprise that they had mentioned turned out to be a communication device. It was a simple piece of technology, but still, something even the wealthiest in our district don't have.

It wasn't exactly what we wanted, but at least we got to see each other's faces and talk about things. Of course, we kept our discussions non-personal, steering clear of anything that could be considered conspiring since the Capitol was most definitely recording every word we said. I wouldn't be surprised if they had someone monitoring our conversations live, just to be sure we weren't planning anything.

"Morning," mutters a low gravelly voice, pulling me away from my thoughts. I barely have to peek over my shoulder to realize it was my father. "I made you some eggs," I say while pouring them onto a plate and handing it to him. He doesn't say anything and rubs his eyes before quickly snatching the plate and moving toward the dining room to sit beside Ana. My eyes wander the room, searching for the plate I had made for myself before I realize I hadn't made any food for myself. I was so occupied making theirs, plus I was exhausted from the late-night call with Cato the other night.

I let out an exasperated sigh before moving toward the front door. My boots slip on with a slight push before I tie the laces in tight bows. "I'm going to Johanna's for breakfast," I yell, Ana appearing from the dining room. She lowers her plate into the sink before quickly turning to face me. "Say hi to her for me."

"I will," I mumble, slipping my wool coat on before stepping out the door. The cold winter air immediately sends a shiver down my spine. It takes a second for me to move, but eventually, I do. Johanna only lived in the house across from me so the walk wasn't far, even though it felt like miles while having to traipse through the layers of rigid white snow. My boots were thoroughly wet and coated in an icy slush by the time I made it to her doorstep so I made sure to kick as much as I could off before ringing her doorbell.

It takes a few moments, but soon the gray Edwardian door swings open, Johanna's rare but not unseen smile appearing. "There he finally is. I couldn't stand another fuckin' minute with this himbo," She says while shoving the door back further to reveal Mirren who sat at her dining table with a small awkward smile.

I let out a airy laugh before walking in, the wooden floors of her home squeaking ever so slightly as we moved around. I slip my soaked boots off and toss them on the shelf she had lined against the wall. "So Mirren, how's Ellie?" I ask while reaching over the smooth dark oak table and quickly grabbing a pastry from the center. "She's alright, difficult as usual," He mumbles. I slowly lower myself onto the wooden chair across from him as Johanna sits beside me, a glass of whiskey in her hands as well. "Come on, she's ten. You can't blame her," I insist with a light-hearted tone while lifting the pastry I took to my lips and taking a bite. He shakes his head as Johanna turns to face him. "Why are you giving me that look?"

Ignite The Flame Within | Cato Hadley X Male Reader | Vol. 2Where stories live. Discover now