Aftersun 𖤓 peeta mellark

vi. socrates' reward

•°. *࿐

vi. socrate's reward

          PACING HER ROOM BACK AND FOURTH, Avonlea adjusts the dress Xanthos had dropped off in her room while she was out. Her hair cascades down her shoulders in tight beachy waves which makes the back of her neck start to sweat as she walks from one corner of the room to the other in a never ending cycle. Entering the now clean bathroom, she grabs a hairbrush and runs it through her hair, ruining the freshly styled curls in favour of a tightly slicked ponytail. She still looked presentable just not in the way Snow wanted her to. He didn't want her to look just 'nice' or 'elegant', he wanted her to be seductive and scandalous. 

She gives herself a singular spray of a perfume Snow had gifted her on her fifteenth birthday, she only ever used it when she was planning on being in his presence. The scents were so strong and artificial they gave her a headache every time she used it but she'd rather deal with that than give Snow the impression that she was ungrateful.

Giving up on making herself comfortable, Avonlea leaves her room and joins the rest of the district twelve team at the dining table. After their first day of training, she expected both tributes to be scoffing down their food like it was their last meal but when she approached the table she found that only Katniss was present at dinner and Peeta was no where to be seen.

"Where's Peeta?" She asks while sitting in the spot he once vacated. She takes a sip from the glass of wine he left behind and leans back, ignoring the plate full of food in front of her.

"He had a little meltdown, he'll be fine by the morning" Haymitch waves off her concerns as he digs into his steak. Leaving the situation as it is, she pushes Peeta's plate away and fills the glass up again with the same red wine. 

"You're not eating either Avonlea?" Effie speaks up, using her knife the gesture at the abundant amount of food across the table.

"No, i'm meeting Snow for dinner soon he told me to eat there" She explains, propping her knees up on the chair. She can see the twitch in Effie's eyebrow, knowing her manners are not what is expected of her yet Effie doesn't address it, opting to continue on with their conversation.

"You know, you're very lucky to be invited to dinner with President Snow. Not every victor gets the honours to sit at the president's table and share dinner with him, i'm sure Haymitch has never received an invite" Effie hums.

Yeah, real lucky, Avonlea thought to herself. To Capitolites like Effie, being invited to dinner by Snow was a bucket list wish, something they could only ever dream of. To victors like Avonlea, it was a nightmare. Each time was worse than the last, she learnt to dread every moment of it. He always served the same food, had the same drinks, wore the same suit and had the same white roses sitting in the middle of the table. It was as if his dining room was a movie set and he was simply following a script. She knew exactly what would happen each time to the point where she had incorporated herself into his elaborate play, using the same responses each time and preparing herself for the moment he dismissed himself, leaving her with whatever special friend he had invited that evening.

Avonlea couldn't sit at that table for a moment longer listening to Effie rattle on about her dreams of being asked to dinner with Snow so she chugged her wine and left without saying goodbye.