OUR FOREST OF THORNS | tbosas ✔️

029 || The Mockingjay Lies Still

But she couldn't deny her fear, especially when it came wrapped in doubts and regrets — Maybe I should have taken the risk of wearing that ring after all; maybe if I didn't deny him the satisfaction of publicly declaring my love for him so many times, he wouldn't be staring at Lucy Gray like that. Such thoughts were all just another way for Daphne's mind to spiral back to the one single biggest scar from her childhood: a sentiment of never being good enough.

Like a wounded wild animal, she covered up the hurt with venom, even as she spoke it with elegant nonchalance, "At least she's not wearing that circus dress anymore."

Coriolanus decided that he must have misheard her, the alternative being far too unbelievable — he was certain that Daphne no longer had a reason to even think he'd ever have eyes for a woman other than her, and especially not for Lucy Gray, who had reaped the benefits of his academic downfall without as much as a glimpse of gratitude.

"Coriolanus?" Lucy Gray squinted his way the second he got out of the vehicle, even though he had faced her for only just a second before turning around to follow etiquette and offer his hand to Daphne.

Hearing her call his name though prompted Daphne to reject holding his hand, a gesture so unusually rude for her that the second she committed to it, she regretted it. She could feel Coriolanus' perplexed glare burning into her side, but seeing as the reporter was preparing his camera, Daphne forced herself to smile — posing in front of cameras regardless of how uncomfortable she really was had been a second nature of hers, a must in order to have a standing chance to compete with her brother, meaning that if she failed to keep up appearances now, when they mattered so much, the only one to blame would be herself, not Lucy Gray and definitely not Coriolanus, just her.

"And there is the winner of the 10th Hunger Games," Daphne exclaimed, measuring Lucy Gray from top to bottom before assuming upon herself a proud walk up the stairs of the Justice Hall. "Mayor Lipp, you must be so proud of her performance in the games," Daphne stopped besides him, gesturing that he only shake her hand for the reporter who snapped his second picture of that moment. Since she wasn't exactly there for a talk with the Mayor whose lips could be shut so easily with the right amount of money, Daphne descended a step down the stairs and offered Lucy Gray a handshake as well. "Congratulations‐!"

A picture was snapped just as Lucy Gray took her hand, albeit not to shake it, but to instead turn it and raise Daphne's wrist to her nose. She inhaled shortly and smiled, "Cherry."

Since her grip was anything but sturdy, Daphne escaped it before her escorts even had the chance to react. The real challenge was her resisting her disgust's instinctive reactions.

"You're the collar lipstick lady in my Mentor's life," Lucy Gray identified, glancing back at Daphne's escort and nodding towards Coriolanus. "The handkerchief he gave me smelled more like you than like him," she confessed with complete disregard as to the setting of this meeting, one she was forced to attend anyway — she had already gotten so used with dancing on the fine line between performing on the stage and being put up in a cage for the entertainment of others that she didn't really mind being coerced to things like this anymore. "I've been told you will be attending one of my shows," she returned her gaze to Daphne, inquisitive by nature. "Now that I know who you are, I would like to sing something to your liking. What do—?"

"I don't like your signing," Daphne cut her off and turned towards the reporter, taking a single step closer to Lucy Gray, even though she remained careful not to touch her in any way. "Smile for the camera," she demanded, seeing from the corner of her eyes that the girl had been taken slightly off guard by that cold remark.