Cato's mentor coughed politely as Cato took the drink from the tray and shook his head, clearly upset by his choice of beverage. Cato rolled his eyes in return and slowly placed the glass, still full, onto the coffee table in front of him. In an attempt to ready himself for the arena the next day, he changed his clothes and laid on his flawlessly made bed and pondered what would unfold the next day. Eventually, somewhere between him fantasizing of what death may meet Katniss and what the arena will look like, he drifted into a deep, and much needed sleep.
(And I would like to start them tonight but no ones but us are on this one :$ )
“Happy Hunger Games! And may the odds be ever in your favor.”
Believe it or not... I'm team Cato XD
"Yes, because mass suicide is great at parties"