୨୧ 𝐇𝐀𝐔𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐃 𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄 ୨୧
THE EARLY MORNING SUN CAST A WARM GLOW OVER THE PICTURESQUE FIELD, where Lucy Gray sat, her back turned to Coriolanus.
The serene ambiance was disrupted only by the haunting melody she coaxed from her guitar, her voice weaving through the air like a gentle breeze.
Are you, are you comin' to the tree?
Hesitantly, Coriolanus approached, a storm of conflicting emotions churning within him.
Lucy Gray, in this quiet moment, seemed like a solace— a fleeting escape from the shadows of his own making. Yet, the very sight of her stirred a tempest of resentment and guilt, the remnants of the havoc he had wreaked upon Seraphina's life.
Where they strung up a man, they say, who murdered three
His footsteps were cautious, a hesitant cadence echoing the tumultuous symphony in his mind.
The anger he harbored towards Lucy Gray, a conduit for the pain he inflicted on Seraphina, simmered beneath the surface.
The pristine field became a battleground of conflicting emotions, each step a reminder of the tangled web he found himself ensnared in.
Strange things did happen here, no stranger would it be
He hated Lucy Gray.
He hated her for being the catalyst for his fall from grace, for being the reason he cheated in the Games, for being the reason he was now exiled to the desolation of District 12.
The resentment burned within him, a fierce flame stoked by the realization that his own actions had led him to this wretched place.
As he drew closer, the allure he once felt for Lucy Gray began to wane.
The initial attraction that had offered a fleeting distraction from the echoes of Seraphina's departure now morphed into a bitter taste of regret.
The desire that once lingered in the periphery of his consciousness now threatened to transform into something darker— an impulse to throttle the source of his torment.
If we met at midnight in the hanging tree
Coriolanus found himself spiraling, lost in the maelstrom of his emotions. The field, once a serene haven, now mirrored the chaos within him, and Lucy Gray, oblivious to the tempest brewing behind her, continued to serenade the morning with her haunting melody.
Coriolanus closed the distance to Lucy Gray's seated figure, each step weighted with the burden of his tumultuous thoughts.
The peaceful field, once a refuge, now bore witness to the collision of their worlds. As his last step cracked a branch beneath his shoe, Lucy Gray flinched, the melody interrupted, and she turned to him with surprise etched across her features.
"They said I might find you out here," Coriolanus stated, his voice carrying the weight of unspoken sentiments.
Lucy Gray, still recovering from the unexpected intrusion, stuttered in her response, "Sorry, I—I still got one foot in the arena." She carefully explained her shock at his presence, placing her guitar down and standing to face him.
Coriolanus observed her keenly, the juxtaposition of her against the backdrop of the tranquil field accentuating the complexity of the moment.
"Your hair, that uniform," Lucy Gray noted with a discerning gaze.
"I thought you were dead," Coriolanus confessed, his words laden with a mixture of astonishment and confusion.
"Yeah, I thought I was too... but your dean, Highbottom, he had them send me home," Lucy Gray explained, her revelation punctuating the air with a sense of incredulity.
"Highbottom did?" Coriolanus replied, disbelief coloring his expression.
His thoughts swirled, the unexpected revelation challenging the assumptions he held about the Dean's intentions.
As Lucy Gray continued her revelation, Coriolanus found himself walking closer to her, drawn by the gravity of her words.
Her disclosure about Highbottom's actions and the contrasting paths they had been set upon echoed in the silent expanse of the field.
"He put me on a train himself and gave me some money. He said they'd sent you to 8," Lucy Gray explained, her eyes holding a depth of experience that Coriolanus hadn't fully comprehended until now.
"For breaking their rules. Saving your life."
Coriolanus stood face to face with Lucy Gray, his thoughts in a tumultuous whirlwind. Her eyes, windows to a complex journey, held his gaze, and the weight of what he had done bore down on him.
"But I gave them my last cent so that I can come here to 12," he admitted, a revelation tinged with the sincerity of an uncharted path.
"Because I had to try and find you," Coriolanus whispered, his voice carrying a veneer of charm.
Charm, or perhaps manipulation, had always been his ally, and now, he felt the need to wield it again, to carve a way out of District 12 and back to the comforts of the Capitol.
His thoughts crystallized at that moment as he stared into Lucy Gray's eyes— the decision was made.
A silent vow to navigate the complexities of District 12 and ensure his own ascent, even if it meant weaving a tangled web that ensnared Lucy Gray in its threads.
"Your dean, he told me the strangest thing. He said he was glad I survived you." Lucy Gray said.
Lucy Gray's revelation about Highbottom's sentiments struck a chord within Coriolanus, a dissonant note in the symphony of his internal turmoil.
As Lucy Gray spoke about the dean's peculiar satisfaction in her survival, Coriolanus could feel the anger simmering beneath his carefully crafted exterior.
"He told you what I did to that boy in the arena?" Coriolanus questioned his attempt to conceal his fury only partially successful.
Lucy Gray acknowledged with a nod, acknowledging the unsavory details that connected them in the eyes of the Capitol.
"I didn't have a choice," Coriolanus defended himself, the words carrying the weight of justification.
Yet, in the recesses of his thoughts, Seraphina's image loomed large. He found himself involuntarily comparing Lucy Gray's perceived weakness to Seraphina's unyielding strength.
In Coriolanus' eyes, Lucy Gray appeared vulnerable— scared of the repercussions of his actions in the arena.
The contrast with Seraphina, who wouldn't flinch in the face of such brutality, fueled his internal turmoil. Seraphina, in his twisted perspective, emerged once more as the epitome of perfection— a counterpart as twisted and complex as himself.
"That little girl, Dill..." Lucy Gray began once more.
As Lucy Gray continued to unravel the threads of her guilt, Coriolanus played his part in the deceptive symphony, the tune of his feigned empathy a mere pretense.
Her words became an empty echo in his ears, a monotonous drone that he drowned out with whispered assurances of "I know," devoid of genuine understanding or concern.
In an orchestrated move, Coriolanus gently cupped Lucy Gray's face in his hands, a gesture that belied his hidden motives.
"You're safe," he uttered, a calculated reassurance that aimed to exploit her vulnerabilities.
The kiss that followed was a strategic maneuver, a strategic silence enforced by the meeting of their lips.
As their mouths entwined, Coriolanus couldn't help but let his mind drift, his thoughts betraying the reality of his desires.
In the midst of Lucy Gray's affections, he envisioned a different face, a different touch – Seraphina's.
The emptiness he felt during the kiss, the void that Seraphina alone could fill, only intensified his resentment towards Lucy Gray.
Coriolanus, trapped in a moment of hollow intimacy, recognized the extent of his miscalculation.
His sacrifice for Lucy Gray had yielded nothing but regret and frustration. The clarity that he did not harbor the same feelings for Lucy Gray as he did for Seraphina fueled a growing anger within him.
Amidst the kiss, Coriolanus found solace in his resolve to escape District 12. Lucy Gray's unwitting role in his plans became more apparent, her feelings a pawn in the game he was determined to win.
The kiss became a means to an end, a tool for manipulation in Coriolanus' grand design for retribution and redemption.
Coriolanus trudged back from the interrupted encounter with Lucy Gray, the taste of her kiss a bitter reminder of the twisted web he had woven for himself.
As he approached, he couldn't ignore the sight of Sejanus engaged in a whispered discussion with the same man from the Hob and the notorious Billy Taupe.
Suspicion crept into Coriolanus' thoughts like a serpent coiling in the shadows.
Sejanus, oblivious to Coriolanus' internal turmoil, greeted him with a friendly smile.
"Hey, you're back. How's Lucy Gray?" His innocent inquiry sparked a storm of resentment within Coriolanus, who responded with a silent glare.
Sejanus, undeterred, continued, "Figured you'd be a while, so I decided to explore town." Coriolanus scoffed, not buying into Sejanus' casual demeanor.
"Oh. With Billy Taupe? And who's that other guy with him?" Coriolanus probed, his suspicion manifesting in every word.
"I remember that from the Academy. Watching you watch everyone. Carefully choosing when to weigh in... you and Sera." Sejanus, ever perceptive, brought up memories from the Academy, invoking the shadow of Seraphina.
Coriolanus felt a pang of possessiveness at the casual mention of her nickname.
"Are you trying to help these people?" Coriolanus questioned, his towering figure casting a shadow over Sejanus.
Sejanus, facing the storm in Coriolanus' eyes, retorted, "Don't you think they need help?" The tension thickened between them, a silent struggle beneath the surface.
"I want you to remember that the people of the districts are one and the same— no matter what district, no matter how much money they earn, no matter what lavish and expensive clothes you cover them in. They are all the same." Seraphina's words were uttered with conviction and lingered in the corridors of Coriolanus' memory yet again as it continued to echo like a haunting refrain.
As Coriolanus navigated the complexities of District 12, those words reverberated in his mind, a persistent reminder of the ideology Seraphina clung to.
Initially dismissed as rhetoric born out of her frustration, the reality of those words started to unfold before him.
The image of Sejanus, willingly associating with the denizens of District 12, clashed violently with Coriolanus' preconceived notions.
"They lost the war, Sejanus. A war they started that made your family rich. I am not about to throw away any chance I might have of getting home someday and seeing Sera again just because you feel a bit guilty. You understand?" Coriolanus' words dripped with spite, his possessive nature flaring as he mentioned Seraphina.
Silence lingered in the aftermath of Coriolanus' stern declaration, and without waiting for Sejanus to respond, he turned and walked away, leaving the weight of his disdain hanging in the air.
The echoes of their conversation reverberated through the narrow streets, each step carrying Coriolanus further into the intricate dance of deception and ambition.
The mental repetition of Seraphina's words became more than a mere memory; it transformed into a mocking chant, a relentless soundtrack to the unfolding drama.
Now, knowing the depths to which Sejanus would go to assist the people of District 12, Coriolanus couldn't escape the irony. Seraphina's proclamation seemed to taunt him with the truth he was reluctant to acknowledge.
Sejanus, once a fellow student at the Academy, now embodied the defiance Seraphina had spoken of.
The more Coriolanus witnessed Sejanus' actions, the more Seraphina's words gained potency. The divisions he had so fervently believed in were crumbling, and he found himself grappling with the uncomfortable realization that perhaps Seraphina had been right all along.
In the face of Sejanus' rebellion, the boundary between Capitol and district, once sharply defined in Coriolanus' mind, blurred into shades of gray.
The dichotomy Seraphina had challenged now stared him in the face, and the unsettling truth lingered in every encounter, a reminder that the people of the districts, rebellious or not, were indeed one and the same.
As Coriolanus distanced himself from Sejanus, leaving the lingering tension behind, a surge of determination pulsed through him.
The echoes of Seraphina's words combined with the events unfolding in District 12 fueled a burning resolve within him. The plan to manipulate his way out of the district and back to the Capitol, back to Seraphina, solidified in his mind.
In the quiet recesses of his thoughts, he acknowledged the necessity of sacrifices. Lucy Gray and Sejanus, mere pawns in his grand scheme, were expendable.
They were means to an end, stepping stones that Coriolanus would use to traverse the tumultuous terrain of District 12 and reclaim his coveted position in the Capitol.
Lucy Gray, who had become an inadvertent obstacle to his past desires and future ambitions, would be manipulated with his charm, a tool skillfully wielded to redirect her emotions to his advantage.
Her feelings, a vulnerable thread that Coriolanus intended to exploit, would be woven into the fabric of his escape plan.
Sejanus, with his misplaced ideals and dangerous affiliations, would be dealt with strategically. Coriolanus had no intention of allowing the rebellious spark in Sejanus to ignite a flame that could threaten his chances of returning home.
If Sejanus insisted on playing the role of a district sympathizer, then he, too, would become a pawn in Coriolanus' calculated game.
As he walked through the dilapidated streets of District 12, Coriolanus envisioned the steps of his escape, each move calculated, each word chosen with precision.
The Capitol, with its allure of power and opulence, beckoned to him, and Seraphina awaited his return. The sacrifices of those in his path would be a small price to pay for the fulfillment of his desires.
With every step, Coriolanus fortified his commitment to the plan, entwining his fate with the delicate threads of manipulation.
In the shadows of District 12, a darker side of him emerged, one willing to manipulate, deceive, and sacrifice to ensure his triumphant return to the Capitol and, ultimately, to Seraphina.