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"I know, right? Shocking, isn't it? A whole eighteen years old, me, and yet I'm getting easily distracted by a girl a full two years younger. And it's not just any girl, but one who looks like she couldn't hurt a fly if she tried. With that unfairly pretty blonde hair, those disarmingly soft brown eyes, those undeniably cute, almost infuriatingly adorable baby cheeks... and damn, those—"
Aries cut himself off abruptly, the realization hitting him like a physical blow mid-rant. He was complimenting Estella. Out loud. For anyone and everyone to hear. He groaned inwardly.
"Sometimes, just sometimes, I sit back and wonder how exactly I ended up in this absurd situation. Sometimes. Just a fleeting, momentary... sometimes. 'Cause, well, it's Stella. I mean, look at her. Damn—" He let out a genuine groan of frustration, running a hand roughly through his already disheveled hair.
The words tumbled from his lips almost uncontrollably, as if he were completely alone and no one was listening. It was an old habit, this rambling monologue, a remnant of a life lived mostly in silence and solitude.
But this wasn't the quiet corners of his old world. This was the arena, a stage upon which their every move was scrutinized. The cameras were always watching, unblinking eyes that missed nothing. Always listening, recording every whispered word, every muttered curse. The people of Panem, the captivated audience, were hanging on every syllable he uttered, absorbing every nuance of his self-deprecating rant.
High up in the branches of a particularly imposing tree, Estella remained perched, a silent observer watching the unfolding scene below. She couldn't help but roll her eyes slightly at Aries's ridiculous ranting. It was classic Aries, a whirlwind of words and self-absorbed commentary.
Estella made a mental note, filing away the information for future reference. It was a flaw of his, this chronic distractibility. Something to keep in mind, a potential weakness to exploit or, perhaps, a characteristic to navigate. She knew, of course, that he was patiently waiting for her to eventually climb down from her perch, the unspoken anticipation hanging in the air between them.
And in time, she would. But for now, she was content to remain still, hidden amongst the leaves, a faint grin playing on her lips as her gaze caught sight of something interesting moving deep within the shadows of the forest. Her fingers subtly tapped a silent rhythm against the rough bark of the tree, her attention then shifting almost imperceptibly to the ever-present, ever-obvious camera pointed directly in her direction.
Her expression hardened ever so slightly, the playful amusement fading into a more serious, almost piercing stare. She knew Panem was watching, their eyes glued to the screen. And she wanted them to feel it, to sense the cold calculation behind her seemingly innocent facade.
"Ah... Katniss Everdeen, Katniss Everdeen, where are you?" Aries called out into the open, his voice light and airy, almost theatrical in its exaggerated casualness. "Aren't you going to come out and play? Even a real Mockingjay is more discreet than you are." He gave a sharp, piercing whistle, a deliberate action designed to draw maximum attention to himself. He playfully waved a hand toward the camera, as if acknowledging the audience's presence.
