Clato Feels. I have them.
The Hunger Games was perfect. Totally, completely perfect.
Except for one, itty-bitty little thing.
CATO AND GLIMMER?
No. Just… no.
I can’t even.
Clove is the only person who’s allowed to fall asleep curled up with her face smushed into Cato’s shoulder. She’s the only one who would even try. She talks him out of a tantrum after Katniss blows up the supplies. He kneels at her side when she dies, “begging her to stay with him.”
They’re both messed up in so many ways, both bloodthirsty and merciless, and they’d be in love if they knew what it was.
Oh, and Cato was totally watching Clove’s back at the Cornucopia.
I plan on posting a full ship manifesto later tonight.
