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JUPITER didn't want to go back to her house the next day. She had made herself at home in one of Brutus' spare rooms, and had tangled herself into the blankets to procrastinate waking up, her cheek catching the early morning rays of sunlight, eyes flickering open. She had hardly slept, and her eyelashes were almost crusted shut and dry.
The small cuts she had were stinging, her lip and cheek slightly swollen. Brutus, who said nothing when she had shown up to his doorstep, had encouraged her to at least clean them. Jupiter had spent an hour in a scalding shower making sure there wasn't glass still lodged in her knees, and had had to bandage her hand that she had gripped the shard with.
Her body screamed for more sleep that morning, but shame was already driving her to wake up. When the anger had faded and her ears were no longer ringing, Jupiter wished she hadn't fought back or threatened her brother or lost her cool. She would have only made things worse, and delaying the inevitable would help no one.
"You look like shit," Brutus said matter-of-factly as she left the spare room and slipped into the kitchen.
She sent him a sneer, but only weakly. She felt very flat that morning. Brutus didn't say anything else as Jupiter discarded her blood-stained clothes in the bin and trudged out the door, her former mentor only watching her go with a thinly disguised look of concern.
Jupiter did not head back to her house. She turned her back to it and left the courtyard behind, her feet carrying her more than her brain did. She was sure she looked worse for wear (she hadn't looked in a mirror that morning), her jaw was still taught from a large bruise, her eyes heavy from sobbing and lack of sleep, and though she had changed from the bloody clothes, there were still cuts crusting on her hands and face.
But no one seemed to care. No one in District 2 really paid her any mind as she stalked through town, beelining for the warmth of the bakery. The bell tinkled as she opened and closed the door, looking around for her favourite familiar face in her home District.
"Space girl!" Julius greeted with a smile. Jupiter managed to return the gesture despite how little she felt up to it. His eyes scanned the Victor quickly, realising something was wrong, but he said nothing as he tightened his apron and leaned on the counter. "What can I get you?"
Jupiter's eyes went to the cabinet. "Two danishes, a cinnamon scroll and– what's the gold one?"
Julius' eyes darkened slightly. "Oh– it's new. I'm calling it the Mockingjay." Jupiter furrowed her brows. "Well, all the Capitolites are wearing the pin and monetising it. Figured I'd try and join in."
"Is it any good?" Jupiter asked.
"I'd be a pretty bad baker if I said no," Julius replied.
