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────── CHAPTER 02. ˎˊ-

╰ ⋟ kiss with a fist

-:       ✦                  ⊹ .                 * ࣭ ⭑๋ ࣭ ⭑

‧₊𓇼           ˚✧                ꙳ ✦

⊹               ₊ ★

     CASSANDRA STILL HADN'T FIGURED OUT IF CATO FINDING HER TRAINING ALONE FIVE MONTHS AGO WAS A COINCIDENCE. Everything he'd said to her that morning was far too perfect to not be planned. But then, she still didn't know how he ever found out about her early morning sessions. And considering she'd rather die than ask him, it was doomed to remain a mystery forever.

It'd been snowing that day. She could remember it clearly because she'd made sure to leave her boots by the door. Leaving behind a trail of mud and snow would definitely alarm someone of the training center being used before opening time. The last thing she needed was for security to tighten. There was only one security guard, who only did one round, usually around six. During that time she hid in a broom closet and waited for him to pass before continuing her training. Any more security would disrupt her training far too much.

She'd just finished demolishing a dummy with her favorite weapon, a knuckle knife, when she heard the sound of someone slowly applauding behind her. When she'd turned around, none other than Cato Hadley had been standing there. He came walking up towards her, watching her with that icy blue gaze of his. The way he'd studied her had put her on edge.

Of course she'd seen him around, knew he belonged in the richer circles of the District due to his father's job. He was a favorite in the Academy, both for his skills and his looks. It had been strange to see him alone, considering the group of friends and admirers usually surrounding him.

She'd narrowed her eyes at him in suspicion. "What are you doing here?"

"Wow," he'd chuckled, holding up his hands as if approaching a rabid dog. "Just thought I'd get in some early morning practice, that's all."

She'd shrugged, wanting to make herself scarce before his obnoxious friends would inevitably show up. "All yours, I'm done anyway."

"Leaving me to train all by myself, huh? Now, where's the fun in that?"

She'd put her sweater on, driving home her point of getting ready to leave.

But he was standing right in front of her, blocking the way to the exit with that annoying smirk plastered on his face. "You know, I happen to be looking for a training partner and judging by what I just saw, you're miles ahead of everyone in our year." He tilted his head, his face so confident she knew right away he wasn't used to hearing no. "What do you say? Wanna go a few rounds?"

"Not interested." And she truly wasn't. Part of her believed it all to be a joke, something meant to remind her of her place in the lower class. But with his friends still nowhere in sight, it would be a very poorly timed prank. Another part of her though, the petty part, had simply wanted to say no to him. If only to see how he'd react...

He'd raised a brow. "Oh come on, Crawford. You don't strike me as the type to walk away from a challenge."

She'd gritted her teeth, hating how easily he'd figured her out. Right then and there, she swore not to make it so easy for him next time. Crossing her arms over chest, she jutted out her chin. "What's in it for me?"

His eyes gleamed. "A chance to test your skills against the best of the Academy."

"Tempting," she'd said slowly, pretending to consider it, hoping he'd get the hint and offer her something else. Lucky for her, he took the bait.

"You plan on volunteering?"

"Perhaps."

He'd walked towards the bench, took a seat and stretched out his arms behind his head. In that moment, he held all the cards and he'd been confident she wouldn't walk away anymore. Which was exactly what she'd wanted him to think. If she was to take this risk, she wanted a good deal out of it.

"I could keep you posted on things happening in the Academy."

"Things?" She'd taken a step towards him, her raised brow demanding more information.

He'd shrugged. "Well, considering you're not part of our class anymore, I don't suppose anyone is bothering to check up on your progress? Teach you the newest techniques?" His smirk widened. "Or show you the grading scores of the competition?"

That had been tempting for sure. Ever since she'd been forced to move to Grey Street, she'd been tossed out of the Academy class. Which meant she was also kept out of any and all information regarding the progress her peers were making. Valuable information indeed when she would volunteer. But she hadn't been a hundred percent convinced yet.

"Okay, say I might be interested. How do I know what you tell me is the truth?"

His smile had been almost blinding. "Because I'm pretty sure you'd be able to kill me and manage to frame my fucking dog if you catch me cheating."

To anyone else, his answer probably didn't seem like much. To her, however, it had been the exact right thing to say. Because it meant he did not underestimate her. He wasn't even afraid to be honest about the threat she posed. And he was the first person ever to do so.

"You've got yourself a deal, Hadley."

Every morning since they'd been training together. Except on the weekends, when Cato's mother insisted on her son being home instead of "wasting family time with his sword". Or so he'd told her. She'd never met his mother before and she'd only ever seen his father up on stage during the Reaping. Not that he'd ever met her parents before but they both preferred it that way though, just them and these four walls.

"You're late."

"Took a detour," she said, not bothering to explain herself any further.

He raised a brow. "You got something more important going on?"

"Yeah, actually." She enjoyed the slight look of annoyance on his face at the possibility of something being considered more important than him. Arrogant prick. For a moment she let him dwell on it, then decided to put him out of his misery and added: "Today's my birthday."

He tried not to look too satisfied at the revelation that he hadn't been replaced somehow, but the look had flashed across his face clear as day. Cato Hadley couldn't hide his emotions to save his life. Strangely, it was one of the reasons she enjoyed his company. At least she knew he wasn't pretending to tolerate her, like so many others.

"This is the year then, huh?"

She nodded as she walked over to the bench and sat down to take off her boots.

Following her example, he shrugged off his jacket. Fancy and expensive leather, perk of being the mayor's son. No one living on Gray Street could afford a piece of clothing like that. And even if by some miracle they did own one, they certainly wouldn't throw it into a careless heap on the floor like Cato was doing right now.

"The Academy's golden girl won't be happy," he said, a playful smirk tugging at his lips.

"That's what I'm counting on."

For some reason her comment only seemed to amuse him further.

While it was illegal to train for the Games, the Capitol had always turned a blind eye to their favorite Districts doing so. The official purpose of the training center was to whip the next generation of Peacekeepers into shape. The unofficial purpose was the Academy.

A place for boys and girls to receive training and prove their worth. Theoretically everyone was allowed to sign up, no matter your parents job or living station. But the Academy was run by a tight inner circle of District 2 richest families. They provided the materials, made sure everything kept running smoothly in case the Capitol came to do one of their yearly "check ups" and, most importantly, they provided the instructors.

Every year, a month or so before the Reaping, the instructors would subject their students to a grading. The boy and girl to come out on top were the ones expected to volunteer. This system worked fairly well and was mostly respected by the Academy students. Though, there was always the possibility of there being multiple volunteers. In all of her years attending the Reaping, Cassandra remembered it happening only three times. Someone who wasn't willing to let their chance go by just because some asshole decided they weren't good enough. Someone like her.

In such instances, should neither one of the volunteers back down, a duel would be held. Placed in front of the stage was a boxing ring. The person able to hold their opponent down for five seconds or more, would be the one allowed to participate that year.

All three duels she'd witnessed were won by the student the Academy had favored. Not very favorable odds to be sure, but it could also work to her advantage. She counted on her opponent underestimating her and that would ensure her victory.

"Come on," she said, walking to the nearest ring while tying up her hair. "We've lost enough time already."

"And whose fault is that again?" Cato grinned.

She rolled her eyes. "Shut it, Hadley."

The only downside to their deal so far was looking at that annoying smirk of his and being subjected to his endless teasing. But she'd gotten an exceptional training partner out of it. So she forced herself to keep her complaining to a minimum.

Cato got into position in the middle of the ring, holding up his fists and slightly bending his knees. Then, without warning, he lashed out.

Cassandra raised her right arm in response, blocking his punch. Only to immediately deliver a blow aimed at his stomach. He jumped out of reach, forcing her to turn in order to keep facing him. He tried a kick aimed at her knees but she let herself drop, then bounced back on her feet to his left.

Gritting his teeth he threw a few rapid paced punches at her. The first two she blocked, the third landed against her shoulder, but she was quick enough to recover to block the fourth.

He withdrew. "Strike one, Crawford."

With a shout she ran at him, pretending to go for his left but letting herself drop at the very last moment. She bent through her knees and swept her right leg across the floor, hitting him just above his knees causing him to stumble. Both of them fell down but while she managed to catch her fall with a graceful roll, Cato was far less fortunate and smacked his chest against the floor.

Immediately she jumped back on her feet, bouncing lightly despite her tall frame. "How many does that count for?"

"Just one," he growled while getting back to his feet. He rolled his shoulder, studying her with a newfound appreciation despite his clearly dented pride. "Where did you pick that up?"

She shrugged. "Saw that balding instructor explain it to some kids." Every once in a while she ventured into the building during lesson time. From the sidelines she watched the instructors at work and tried to soak up every piece of information she could. This was a move specifically designed to take down an opponent much stronger and bigger than oneself. Which Cato just so happened to be.

He shook his head, struggling between looking impressed and pissed off.

Cassandra didn't give him time to figure out which one it was going to be. She threw another punch at him. Cato reacted faster than she had expected he would. He caught her arm, lifted her up over his shoulder and threw her on the ground.

All the air left her lungs as her back slammed against the mat. Through the painful coughs rattling her ribcage, she managed to lift her arms in order to shield her face. As anticipated, Cato sat down on top of her, pressing her legs against the floor. But he didn't punch her face. This was only practice after all. Aside from a few bruises or a sprained muscle, they'd never truly hurt each other.

Slowly she lowered her arms and scoffed. "So predictable."

"Oh? Is that why you're on the ground and I'm not?"

She glared at him, which only seemed to amuse him.

He leaned in closer, warm breath caressing her skin, blue eyes holding her captive. "Just how predictable would you like me to be?" he muttered, lips inches away from hers.

"Extremely," she whispered, grabbing a handful of his shirt and pulling him down.

He responded immediately, as if he was a starving man. His lips were rough against her own, hands going down to her waist, pinning her down. There was nothing gentle about it, there never was. Which was exactly how they both liked it. He probably left more bruises on her this way than from their sparring sessions...

A faint hint of his lime sensed soap still lingered, though overpowered by the leather from his jacket. Both scents she'd come to associate with him no matter where she was. A hot flame of desire twisted within her and she moved her hands to his hair, tugging harder than probably necessary. The low groan at the back of his throat sent a shiver down her spine.

When his hand slid back up her waist, she could feel him shifting his weight. As soon the pressure on her legs disappeared, she moved. Catching him off guard she managed to twist around and pushed herself up. She locked her legs around his waist and pushed him down. Now, she was the one seated on top of him instead.

"Strike two," she smirked. "Like I said, extremely predictable."

The storm brewing within his eyes sent a pleasant wave of warmth through her stomach.

For as long as Cassandra had known Cato, the nickname "pretty boy" had followed him. She supposed it wasn't completely unwarranted either, because unlike her indifference at Nyx' comments might suggest, he was indeed pretty. Yet she never would've come up with that name on her own. To her, there was more of a resemblance to the statues gracing the streets of District 2. Sharp features and chiseled arms as if cut from stone but especially his eyes. An icy blue that held nothing but pride as they looked at the world around him. As if he was standing upon a dais and everyone was simply below him.

No, pretty was far too small a word to describe Cato Hadley.

Especially considering the way he was looking at her now.

Of course, Cassandra would much rather punch herself in the face than to ever say any of this to anyone, least of all to Cato himself. Instead, she preferred to banish every single one of these thoughts into some dark corner of her mind. A corner she imagined to look like the stone quarries of their district. With every tunnel hiding a piece of her soul while she herself guarded the entrance to prevent access.

"We cheating now, huh?" he raised a brow.

"It's called exploiting your weakness, Hadley."

An amused spark lit up his eyes. "Are you suggesting you are my weakness?"

A rare laugh fell from her lips and for a moment the boy beneath her looked completely stunned. "No, I'm suggesting you think with your dick."

For a moment he looked like he was considering continuing their fight. Then he sat up, pulling her towards him, lips hovering near her ear while his fingers traced their way down to the small of her back. "I don't remember you ever having a problem with that before."

She tried her hardest to keep her breathing steady, refusing to let him see the way he affected her. "It's not me calling it a problem."

"Strike three," he whispered. And then his lips were back against hers, stealing any witty reply she might've had. But she wasn't about to let him win and kissed him just as roughly in return, feeling his satisfied grin vibrate through his chest beneath her hands.

Somewhere in the distance she heard the sound of a door closing. It took her a moment longer than she would've liked to tear herself away from him. "Someone's coming."

He listened with a frown and then nodded as steady footsteps approached.

They got to their feet, quickly grabbed their stuff and sprinted into a hallway on their right. Cassandra reached the door of the broom closet first and opened it, slipping inside. Cato followed and closed it behind them, locking them together in that small space. They barely fit between the cleaning supplies. But it was the only room the guard never bothered to check.

With bated breath she waited for the guard to pass by. Instead, the footsteps came to a halt somewhere near the door. She raised a questioning brow at Cato and he gave a small shake of his head. As silently as possible they waited.

Then, a second pair of footsteps echoed down the hallway, sounding much less steady and more like someone in a hurry. They, too, came to a halt near the tiny broom closet.

"Thank you for meeting me here, sir," a hushed male voice spoke.

Cassandra was surprised to realize she recognised that voice. It was the balding instructor from the Academy. Judging by Cato's face, he realized it too. Though the voice that answered came as an even bigger surprise.

"This better be worth my time, Linus," said mayor Bryant Hadley.

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────── AUTHOR'S NOTE ˎˊ-

Chapter two has arrived! Cassandra and Cato's interactions are so much fun to write. Their chemistry is truly amazing. I really enjoy writing a friends-with-benefits situation because I've never written something like that before. It's very fun to play with and I hope you guys like reading it too.

I know I'm not the first person to wonder what the procedure would be if multiple people volunteered. Sadly, the books don't provide us with answers. So, I made up a system of my own, inspired by ideas already existing within the fandom. Let me know your thoughts! Also, if you're curious to know who I casted as Cato's father, go check out the Act One chapter with the extended cast.

I've been completely overwhelmed by the support and positive response this story has gotten so far! Thank you guys so much for reading. It truly means the world to me. Let's keep that energy going shall we? ;) Hope to see you all again soon.

xx Nelly