clove kentwell.

“Sounds like a plan,” she nodded. “We call that the dog house. Marvel’s already quite familiar with it. Hope they have room for two back there.”

“Room for two, sure. But room for Cato? Not likely. Even a wild animal enclosure wouldn’t be big enough for him.”

Sam had kept himself considerably isolated since the Winchester’s return to Alexandria. Time on the open road had done wonders for clearing their heads, but it hadn’t been the homecoming they’d planned for. The calm was only ever going to be temporary, of course, but there was nothing like getting back in the Impala to bring him and Dean a sense of peace. Arriving back to news of Johanna’s long-term captivity had been nothing short of crushing. Immediately, Sam had felt winded, as if their few months away had meant nothing. How could this have happened on his watch? Why had he believed them? How could he have let them win? Then, Dean confirmed she had no intention of ever seeing him again, not even to let him explain. Sam got worse.

Clove winced as her back met the wall, winded by the impact. It was enough to release the grip she had around Sam's neck, but not enough to stop her. Once she'd upped and steadied herself, her gaze was locked upon him again, although she struggled to truly see him through the flashbacks that were playing in her mind. She should've known by now they were falsely constructed, most of her arena memories were, but the adrenaline had already taken over. Clove was in self preservation mode, and the only person who could settle this repeated behaviour was nowhere to be seen. Without Glimmer, she had no one to reassure her that Sam wasn't a threat. No one to trust.

Rose shrugged, tone quite casual considering the nature of the conversation. “He knows you. You know him. You’re always wanna gonna go back to that because it’s safe. Trust me.” Safe to say, Rose had quite a few relationships that fit into that category. She didn’t do well with commitment, not romantically anyway, but she often returned to what she knew best, seeking comfort and familiarity. It wasn’t the sort of topic District Two tributes would ever have been allowed to discuss before, but a lot of things had changed over the years. So had they.

“I guess you’re right,” Clove admitted, a heavy sigh lifting her shoulders. “I wouldn’t feel normal if I didn’t have him around to irritate me every ten seconds.” She hated the vulnerability of this situation, discussing her emotions, but it was easier with Rose. Considering they'd both been reaped, they had similar experiences. Their initial training regimes may have differed, but the end result had been the same. In both Alicante and District Two, insults and sarcastic remarks were seen as terms of endearment, a product of their upbringing. As was their need to shy away from more difficult conversations. They didn't have to say much to understand eachother, and Clove was thankful to Rose for that.

“We’ll see,” she shrugged mysteriously, knowing plenty well she could argue with her daughter for the rest of her life if it meant getting to occasionally style her hair, or outfits. Wrinkling her nose at the reply, Glimmer laughed a moment later. “Yikes, okay. Well, when you feel like cutting his head off, and you need a place to crash, our couch is all yours. And if he comes crawling to Marv, he’s going in like, the kennel.”

“I’m okay with both of those options,” Clove agreed with a small nod, knowing that she’d end up on Glimmer’s couch by the weekend. “Although… a kennel definitely sounds like the better one. Maybe I should set him up in the back yard. I’ll even get him a water bowl with his name on it.”

Alicia nodded at the question before the woman continued, nearly rolling her eyes in response. She should’ve expected that Clove would’ve made a sarcastic remark. Still, she tended to agree. “Just depends what the game is, and who your opponents are, I guess. Some games suck.” Considering their nation’s history, that much was obvious. “Probably good to try and understand Monopoly now, since capitalism is making a comeback."

“Well, in that case, I’m only playing against you if you’re good. I don’t do well with shitty competition, it’s far too easy,” Clove responded, smirk upturning the corners of her lips. Even with no knowledge of the games herself, she refused to go up against a rookie. She enjoyed the challenge, she enjoyed competing. Even in this case, when it would be none violent. 

“Mmm, no. It’s torture.” Clove allowed herself a genuine smile then, swatting Glimmer’s hand away from her hair. “I’m okay. Rooming with Cato, so you can imagine how well that’s going.”

“Always,” Glimmer nodded, genuine. “No way that smelly loaf is staying in my home. Besides, the couch has your name on it.” Snorting at the image, she shrugged. “God, probably. Funny, really. Marvel and I have needed a ‘deep chat’ for a long time now, but he’ll still have one with Cato before me. Fucking men.” That was largely her fault, but the point still remained.

“Good, because I’m going to take up permanent residency on it.” Despite her joking, Clove was seriously considering it. Maintaining a relationship with Cato was one thing, but living with him was another level of stress. They needed space. “Well, good luck to him. He’d get a more intelligent response from a sack of potatoes than he would Cato. Maybe it’ll teach him not to prioritise ‘broships’ over the mother of his child.” Walking alongside Glimmer, Clove considered their options. “Honestly, I have no idea, this town’s a snoozefest. Maybe we should get drunk and burn a bunch of shit.”

“Well, I will take that as a compliment,” she smiled, tossing some hair over her shoulder. “I keep forgetting you’re as stubborn as Marvel. But she’s good. Great, actually.” It almost sounded rehearsed. “Talking and walking all on her own now, so it shouldn’t be long until I can get her in some heels. Fingers crossed!“