CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR — Precautionary Action ..
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The door before her opened promptly and with not even a second for their gazes to hold each other, Sejanus pushed the door to close it in Daphne's face. Her right foot stopped the door from closing and without missing a beat, she mused, "Did they not teach manners in District 2?"
Sejanus pulled the door open and glared, "You punched me." Though he threw a fugitive glance down at the bandage Daphne now wore thanks to that outburst of hers, she gloated at the fact that she had managed to inflict a lasting mark on Sejanus that would make her paid price be worth it.
"You deserved it," she countered.
"You called my mother pathetic," he stepped forward with the accusation, unbeknownst that she's been threatened by just about enough violent men in her life so far to look at him and piece together that he was just a stupid boy.
"I was holding back," Daphne responded, standing her ground, "she deserved much worse."
Sejanus' face grew red, but before he could do anything at all, much as she was curious to learn if he had it in him to defend at the very least his mother's honor, a much more thundering voice sounded from inside the house, calling his name and thus freezing him in place.
"Mr. Plinth," Daphne greeted a little louder, lifting her chin and wearing a satisfied smile as she pushed past Sejanus before he had the time to move out of her way, thus bumbing her shoulder into his.
"Miss Ravinstill," Strabo Plinth, Sejanus' father, tied up the button to his suit jacket and straightened up. "I've been expecting you. Please," he gestured for her towards his study, but not before throwing a pointed glare at his son for keeping his guest at the door.
Daphne, on the other hand, didn't stress herself with acknowledging Sejanus any longer, now that his father was within sight — after all, she wasn't there to tease a colleague she had been more than happy to ignore for all those years, but to settle a few deals with the profit-oriented man who achieved the ultimate dream of the most ambitious people in the Districts, that of turning poverty into a ladder to the top of the food chain, in the heart of the Capitol. There was something truly admirable to his relentless determination, much as there was an undeniable weak link to his desperation to remain afloat in this jungle of fellow tycoons.
As soon as they were both seated across from each other in his study, Strabo sighed, "I'm sorry Miss Ravinstill, but Gaul got here before you."
"So you've seen the footage already," Daphne's relaxed smile did not vanish, not even after watching his compliant nod. "What did she ask?"
"That I remove my support of your stay in Congress."
Daphne hummed, seemingly unimpressed by Gaul's request. She shifted in her seat, getting more comfortable, "I assume you realize the footage won't be going away any time soon."
"My boy will be costing me a fortune," Strabo acknowledged with a shake of his head. "I am aware."
"What if I told you I can make that recording go away though? For good." His responding silence told her that he was listening, "I will simply need you to hold off removing your public support."
"Miss Ravinstill," he sighed, "as delightful as that sounds, my hands are already tied. I have to play by her music, or she will ruin me."
"Your hands are going to be tied only the second you do as she tells you to," she insisted, not even close to losing her patience. "Because then, she will know that you will bend to her every whim if she threatens your reputation."
"What would you have me do then?" Strabo humored her vision tiredly.
"Merely delay," Daphne gestured with her hand. "Make your intention of removing your support known and push it for voting consideration. I will challenge the proceedings, which will result into a trial. Given our track record in trials, it's safe to assume after that point of no return I will have at least another month of active Congress duty before they rule against my appeal. It's more than enough. I'll have Dr. Gaul behind bars long before the first hearing would be due."
"Behind bars?"
"I told you, Mr. Plinth. I can make this all go away," Daphne tilted her head to the side. "And I can even sweeten our deal," her tender smile turned through her cunning edge into a grin, all the while her right hand disappeared in her own suit jacket, returning with a piece of paper that she extended to Strabo. "I know how much you like a good investment and it feels only fair to let a friend in on the best investment he could make ahead of everyone else."
Strabo's fingertip tingled over the fine piece of of paper at the mention of investments, but as soon as he read what was on that thing, his armchair grew needles and he stood up. "What is this?" He looked wide eyed at Daphne, his hand shivering ever so slightly on the paper he was given.
"The future, Mr. Plinth."
He raised his hand, scrunching the paper in his fist, "You're trying to take over my field?"
"Please," Daphne crossed her legs and leant back into her armchair, nodding to her side, "sit down—"
"You come into my house with the audacity to threaten my business?!" Strabo was losing his mind over what that piece of paper entailed though.
"Mr. Plinth," Daphne sighed, rather disgusted by how alarmed he had become, his desperation disctating a tunnel vision upon him. "If I wanted to ruin you, I wouldn't have told you about my next move and I wouldn't have allowed you the chance to become one of my investors. I will join the weapon manufacturing business, with or without your support, so the choice is yours. You can either become the competition or my business partner."
Finally, her words reached past his fear of no longer being the magnate at the top of an industry branch and he lowered his hands besides himself. "And all you want is that I delay taking back my endorsement?"
"Well, that and one more little thing," Daphne gloated over bringing him exactly where she needed him to be. "Coriolanus Snow," she threaded forward carefully with her words. "The boy who got your son out of that arena last night. I need your word that should he earn the scholarship for University off of this Mentor program, he will receive it."
"What difference does it make to you?"
"Does it matter?" The look she received prompted Daphne to finally get up, "You are a self-made man, Mr. Plinth. If not you, who else to ensure hard work and merit is rewarded in this country? Do we have a deal?" Daphne extended her hand forward.
Strabo trapped that copy of a contract between his palm and Daphne's, giving her a firm handshake.
"Thaddeus will come over one of these evenings with the contract. We'll discuss assets in person when the time is right," Daphne hurried over those terms and conditions, before nodding in appreciation and letting go of his hand, taking the piece of proof with her. "Your investment will take good care of you and your family, Mr. Plinth, I assure you."
Daphne didn't linger in his study any longer, aiming to leave the house and be on her way to other business, heavily related with her incursion into diluting the poison she procured from Dr. Gaul's laboratory. As soon as she made for the exit of the home, Sejanus followed her out, having waited in the hallway for her to be done discussing with his father. Behind their exit, his mother, wearing a worrisome expression, marched out of the living room and into the study, not stopping until she startled Strabo with her presence right in front of him.
"I don't like knowing you're doing business with that girl," she whispered her scolding of him while he pointlessly hoped to avoid looking right into her glare. "Strabo, look at me," she hit his shoulder, but her palm lingered its touch there. "That girl is a snake—"
"That girl owns us," he cut her off, seething those words through his teeth such that his wife froze before him. "Leave business to me and you worry about our son not stepping out of line again. I'm trying to ensure we don't fall back into the pits we've climbed out of, damn it."
"Daphne," Sejanus called for a second time, stepping outside his home, into the street, after her.
Knowing that if he came any closer to her Thaddeus would have stepped out of the car and created a reason for Strabo to reconsider their just struck deal, Daphne sighed in exasperation, coming to a stop. "What, Plinth?" She turned around.
"You know...," Sejanus almost stumbled in his attempt to stop as abruptly as her. "You know I didn't want to get Coriolanus hurt, right?"
It didn't take her long to realize that he had had the time, during her talk with his father, to go over what she meant by saying he deserved the punch. "Of course I know," Daphne couldn't resist rolling her eyes. "You're not smart enough to be intentional in any of your threats."
With a bit of rest, Coriolanus had managed to see at least a glimmer of reason following his night in the arena — though his odds were by all means unfavorable, he still owed it to Daphne to fight until the end to stay on top; slacking in defeat already would only grant Gaul and Highbottom the pleasure of knowing they have successfully snuffed out the power that the Snow family had meant for so long in the Capitol. Allowing such a thing, even as his own fall was indisputable still in his vision, he engaged every ounce of his strength into doing what he knew best: keeping up appearances.
He left the Academy that evening with an air of relief — at long last, Lucy Gray emerged from her tunnels and he could use some of the many donation she's been receiving to feed her, thus ensurinf that she will last a little longer still. Thankfully, no footage of him in the arena had been released either and after a while of feeling himself a constant unrest, Coriolanus allowed that thorn in his back to be casted to the very bottom of his mind.
To his surprise, outside of the Academy, Thaddeus waited besides an empty car. As soon as he spotted Coriolanus coming down the steps of the institution, Thaddeus walked towards him and handed over a folded note. Before he even read the message given to him without a single clued sound from Daphne's bodyguard, Coriolanus already recognized her handwriting. The note was an inquiry, that he could only read by imagining Daphne's cheeky tease, the same tone she used each time she felt the need to call him a 'dummy' — 'Do you remember how to get to the roof of the Academy?'
"Thank you," Coriolanus briefly looked up at Thaddeus, though he had already taken a step back to return to the confines of the building. He kept his rush at a minimum visibility, using the excuse that he had forgotten something inside the classroom once he passed a confused Felix.
Though Daphne had showed him the way to the rooftop on a day that he could definitely name as one of his most stressful ones before the Games started, Coriolanus remembered the path clearly. Not stressing about finding the right way to the top allowed him in the silence that suddenly surrounded him thanks to the slowly emptying halls of the Academy to try to understand what could have possibly brought her to ask of him to meet her up there.
Finally, after making it up the dark and narrow staircase, Coriolanus pushed open the heavy door which demanded his eyes re-accustom themselves to the light of a sunset in its final strokes of color upon a cloudless, darkening sky. What startled Coriolanus however once a few blinks returned some of his sight was that the rooftop was not only quiet, but also very much empty.
He took one tentative step forward and that very instant, his right arm was grabbed, making his soul jump out of him, with his body flinching in a survival instinct to not allow the spirit to leave him bare.
Daphne let go of his arm, leaning against the wall so laughter didn't make her fall over altogether.
"Yes, so funny," he scolded her, though he could feel his cheeks growing warm over this embarrassment in real time. "Laugh it off now, alright...," bowing his head through that mumble, he was taken off guard by Daphne pulling him towards her.
"Oh, cut me some slack," Daphne pleaded, ending up exactly where she wanted, between her beloved Coryo and that coarse wall behind her, with his palm near her head, catching him from stumbling too close to her just yet. "Some harmless fun never hurt no one."
Coriolanus leant over pushing the door closed with his right hand, yet though Daphne inched forward and his own lips wanted to gravitate back where they belonged, over hers, he stepped back before she could steal a kiss from him. Never before had he considered restraint to be a worthwhile virtue to employ between him and Daphne, not with his own desires for her being an everlasting fire, but now that he heard that faint groan she let out after he denied her what was rightfully hers, he couldn't help but keep it in his mind that he should use his life-long training in controlling himself more often.
However, as all good things in life, restraint too must come in moderation.
Waiting no longer than through a shaky breath, Coriolanus stepped forward again, closing the gap between their chests and revelling in how eager Daphne was to lean into his touch as soon as his right hand grasped the side of her face — he understood better than ever now the likes of Achilles, claiming such things of hubris as how the Gods would ever come to envy mortals for their very transient existence. He finally could agree: everything is more beautiful when you recognize every moment might be your last.
Then again, there was nothing mortal about how Daphne made him feel when their lips brushed against each other.
Whatever sparked between them in soft sighs was echoed into immortality, sending shivers as old as time throughout his body. It used to leave him breathless, but now, he was starting to get the hang of it; it was either that or he had grown desperate, to take in as much of these moments as he could, while he was still worthy of her affection.
A break from their usual pattern happened when Coriolanus felt Daphne's hand brush in the space between them, undoing the single button holding his jacket tight around his waist. Before he could register what it was that she was doing, her was corrupted by a fit of goosebumps trialing behind her fine caress. Her hand slipped up under his jacket, to his left shoulder.
It was clear what she wanted to do, but because of the nature of her action and the way it made his heart climb to his throat, Coriolanus had to pull away from their kiss and seek to speak his puzzled state by meeting her gaze — he already knew words would fail him.
However, Daphne didn't let his break for air stop her. Taking advantage of the little space he brought between them, she lifted her left hand over the same motion, reaching up to his right shoulder and thus successfully slipping the jacket off of them. He felt the garment abandon his back to the coolness of the summer air, incomparable to the volcanic heat between them, and pool to his elbows, past which he was adamant to not allow it to slip before he knew exactly what she was up to.
Knowing he couldn't really be certain without trusting his words with demanding clarifications of this sudden escalation, Coriolanus gathered his strength after a gulp and inquired, "Daphne?"
Though he definitely wished he could have worded out more than just her name, he didn't exactly expect to see her started giggling over his speechlessness. How many words would you be able to articulate if I suddenly thought to remove your jacket, Daphne? Despite that thought clearly dancing around his mind, he was unable to let it tamper with his expression and make him glare.
Thankfully for his heart, Daphne removed her hands from their until then relentless determination to have that jacket removed from him completely. She shifted her position, lifting her hips from the wall, and then hiding her hands behind her back. "Apologies," her innocent smile no longer fooled him, but instead managed to only add fuel to the fire he felt had warmed his earlobes now too. "I think I got carried away."
You think? Coryo's raised eyebrows were loud on echoing his thought exclamation, yet even after watching his reaction, Daphne kept a relaxed smile.
"Would you please undress for me?" Daphne tilted her head ever so slightly to the side, her gaze slipping from his eyes down to his chest before quickly climbing back up.
He couldn't believe that she was actually expecting an answer from him just then. A coherent, verbal answer. Was this her getting back at him for delaying that kiss she wanted a moment ago? Because he had been almost certain up until that point that he did a great job in making it up to her for his little probing around with the idea of restraint.
Deciding that this was clearly her joking around to get him all flustered and bothered, perhaps in one of the most cruel ways possible, Coriolanus furrowed his eyebrows down, "Why?"
"You can't try on the new shirt I got you over your clothes, dummy," Daphne responded serenely, though she knew all too well exactly how she made him feel; in fact, she was not immune before the options she was alluding to either, which is why, between the wall and Coriolanus, she was starting to feel blissfully suffocated in warmth.
"New shirt?" Coriolanus remained confused, at least until Daphne's gaze dropped to her feet and he finally noticed the paper bag abandoned there, a thing he hadn't noticed up to that point, having been so utterly consumed with her.
"As promised," she confirmed with a nod, nudging him to take a step back so she could bend over and pick up the bag. "I decided to keep the one I borrowed from you a little while longer, so I took the liberty of buying you two new shirts, instead of just one. However, sizes are unreliable, so I'd rather you try them on."
"Here?"
"Yes, Coryo," Daphne's shoulders dropped at hearing yet another inquiry of disbelief from him. "Here. Where else? There's no one on the roof with us and it's not like anyone from the street can see us up here."
His face might as well have been set on fire at that point, "But—"
"You can't be kissing me the way you do and then claim you're too shy to take your shirt off," she interrupted his objection. "That's what one would call being hypocritical, don't you agree?"
Had he been less affected by what he guessed would be comparable to a fever at that point, Coriolanus knew he would have been able to find a counter argument to Daphne's little accusation. But given he had already been compromised to blushing, his best hope to cover up the direction in which his mind went was to play along and blame the summer heat for his redness.
Removing the jacket and his bag were the easy things. However, the moment he started undoing his buttons with Daphne clearly following his every movement, Coriolanus felt his composure starting to completely break and collapse around the surrealism of it all — he was removing his shirt in a public place, at her request.
There was no backing away though, not without leaving that rooftop with a scarred ego. If he got halfway through with the buttons already, he might as well finish undoing all of them and just remove the shirt altogether at that point.
By the time he undid the last button, in an excess of zeal, he had deemed himself comfortable enough to steal a glance at Daphne. Seeing her watch his hands intently while grazing her bottom lip ever so lightly between her teeth was perhaps both a blessing and a curse, because though it made everything all that more unbearably hot, it was also starting to melt away from his inhibitions thanks to the thought that she too was getting flustered. Coriolanus knew it would be dangerous to entertain the thought that seeing some of his naked body would get Daphne this bothered, but he couldn't help it now.
"Enjoying the show, I hope?" He inquired, right as he returned his attention downwards, not ready to read her expression's most sincere reply. He shrugged the shirt off his shoulders and, setting it over his bag on the ground, he turned awfully aware once more. Despite first and foremost feeling embarrassed, Coriolanus found within himself a curiosity coming alive — he realized he actually needed to know if Daphne liked what she saw.
Much to his dismay however, the answer to his now significant inquiry had been complete silence.
Past the sound of his own heartbeat pounding in his temples, Coriolanus couldn't actually hear Daphne stepping closer, brand new shirt in hand, so he was wholly taken off guard to raise his gaze and meet hers, so very close. Her eyes traveled shamelessly slow across his collarbones before actually meeting his eyes. "Let's try this one first," Daphne lifted ever so slightly the shirt of pristine white that she had carried over to him
Well, she certainly doesn't look like she's hating what she's seeing, Coriolanus thought, not yet able to channel pride into making him quite as shameless as her to perhaps re-ask the question that was left unanswered, but finding just about enough nerve in him to stay put and take no step back throughout putting on the new shirt.
The fabric felt soft over his skin, more gentle than any of his other clothes have ever been. He imagined a material this comfortable could only ever be expensive. Then again, it might have been just the fact that it was a new shirt, one that hasn't been worn before — Coriolanus has grown used to wearing old things, whose prime days were far behind.
Standing there, so close to him, and merely watching, was starting to get Daphne far more restless than even she had anticipated she might get through this bold endeavor, nothing but a subtle attempt to give herself an enjoyable break before she resumes work and he returns to his current duties.
No, she immediately decided. Only watching is going to drive me crazy.
Thus, with little warning for Coriolanus, Daphne brushed his hands aside dismissively and took over buttoning his new shirt. Only once her fingertips grazed his bare chest did she realize she might have been a bit hasty with this choice — her cheeks were quick to adopt a new warmth, but though she felt the fire in her grow, she knew she had to finish what she started since she was definitely unwilling to admit that she would much rather explore these strange tingles Coriolanus inflicted on her by just standing there.
Coriolanus looked down and he could have sworn, seeing Daphne blush had a godliness ability to convince him she was able to make the world stop. Unable to tell if he had fallen under some spell of hormones running wild or merely tripped into some hopeful delusion, he observed what he thought was a clear mirroring of his own desire, nurtured in Daphne's eyes, in that stunning liquid gold, a treasure with specks of emerald and a dash of sapphire. In that complete silence between them, he had little to no hope that he'd ever know for certain if she harbored the exact same lust as him, but he entertained the thought and let it satisfy him while he kept himself still beneath her ghosting touch, peppering his skin in goosebumps.
With the last button done however, Coriolanus had returned to a level of decency which tore him from their intimate moment. "Are you sure we couldn't have done this at home rather than on a roof?" Escaped from the haze of desire, Coriolanus casted a quick glance around them. Even without witnesses, the setting felt awfully public for him to be pressed into having these sort of thoughts where he'd copy to the best of his knowledge exaggerated scenes of romance, until he learnt what Daphne liked best — it was a domain foreign to him, but nonetheless, he imagined it was one he shouldn't be exploring for the first time on a rooftop.
"Had we done this in your room, I fear I wouldn't have left until morning," Daphne admitted.
Did she just say what I think she said? Coriolanus' heart was most definitely acting up at the mere premise of her allusion and how it might have proved that she too felt the very same way.
Before he could do or say anything at all, Daphne stepped back, her hands long gone from his belt's close proximity. "Turn around," she measured the way the shirt looked on him.
Perhaps having the opportunity to hide his expression was the single, most merciful thing that could have happened then. Without hesitation, Coriolanus turned around. "Would that be so bad?"
"Hmm?" Daphne hummed, hoping to focus on studying the shirt and how it looked on him — it looked perfect, he looked perfect.
"Not leaving until morning. Would that be so bad?"
"It would be a dream, Coryo," Daphne sighed, averting her gaze once her confession prompted Coriolanus to turn around there and then. "But I'm short on time and I need to work out this poison," she hurried to speak before he would be prompted to do something utterly insane, like kissing her, something that she knew would absolutely flip her priorities around. "That's why we met here and why I wanted to give you the gift now. I'll have to lay low the next few days, until the poison is ready and I can make my next move. Don't worry, I'll still stay tuned to the Games, waiting for your win—"
"Why does this feel like a goodbye?" Coriolanus stepped forward, noticing that Daphne still refused to look him in the eyes.
"It's not a goodbye, only a precaution," she defended herself, though this new allusion only grew his concern. "I don't know what will happen after my brother's gone. There's a slim chance that they'll know it was me and if they do..."
"No," Coriolanus shook his head, starting to remove his shirt. "I don't want your gift if this is just you preparing for the worst."
Daphne placed her hand over his, stilling him from his motions of undoing her hard work on those buttons. "I'm keeping your shirt because I want to feel you close during this time of temporary separation," she hurried to explain to him. "It is going to be temporary. And I'm giving you these now so you too have something from me to make up for the fact that I'm not there with you in person. Please, Coryo."
He took her hand into his own, then lifted his free one to her face, to hold her still and finally demand that she look at him, "Why do we have to separate to begin with? How long will this even take? You worked on that bomb while you were seeing me just fine."
"This is different," she insisted. "I'm not delegating work this time around, I am doing this myself and I am doing it on a strict deadline too. Gaul is trying to remove me from Congress and if she manages to do that before I make my next move, then I won't be eligible for emergency power at the end of this project phase anymore. Trust me, Coryo, if there was another way, I would have taken that path instead, because I too want you. But it has to be like this. I have to work and you have to win. Both of us need to concentrate, one final push to the top."
He was certain not even he had realized it at a time that Daphne's words have caught roots so deep inside of him, pulsing relentless life into his ambition to win, an ambition until them lying moribund at the bottom of his priority list — he had to win no matter what, even if he had to use every card in the game, even if he had to cheat to make sure his tribute can last a little longer than the rest.
Such was Daphne's faith in him: a maddening, dangerous and intoxicating thing.
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AUTHOR'S NOTE :
This chapter is just me telling you all that the Games are irrelevant to the plot of this book and I won't waste my time going through all five days of their progression. First of all, it would be redundant as I change close to nothing from what happens in the Games and with Coryo during that time — though he won't visit the Plinth's anymore, he still goes to see Gaul regarding an essay he was tasked to do; the essay may be different thanks to his new views influenced by Daphne, and his accentuated hatred for Gaul, but he still ends up seeing the tank of snakes and chesting to make sure Lucy Gray survives that nasty trap, as teased above, in the chapter.
I'm basically skipping ahead to the juicy part right after the games, because nothing that would have happened differently during them is worth a full chapter, especially with Daphne closing herself off from the world to work on the poison variation.
Hope that's okay with y'all and that you can understand why I'll be including this time skip. ✨️