He was conflicted, a frown on his face for a few seconds before he answered. “…Alright.” Cato mumbled lowly, lingering around before he walked off.
Peeta followed after Cato, putting a heathy space between them before he tugged Cato into his room. District 13 had given him one of the cozier sized cells to live in for the time being. Peeta stepped out of his shoes and waited for Cato to move toward the bed first. He wouldn’t dare do anything without making sure Cato was comfortable first.
Cato took in a deep breath through his nose, slowly releasing it and his eyes found their way to Peeta’s hand on his bicep.
“There we go. Do you need to nap, maybe? That usually helps me when I’m in a bad mood. I’ll even lay with you and pat you to sleep."Peeta offered with a smile.
“You are, you’re trying to make fun of me! I’ll rip that fucking head of yours off your neck.”
“Cato! Calm down, I’m not making fun of you.” Peeta tried to appeal to him, reaching up to squeeze a bicep. “I’ve got nothing to gain by making you feel bad. Please. Take a deep breath."
