HEART OF GOLD | CORIOLANUS SNOW

𝘾𝙃𝘼𝙋𝙏𝙀𝙍 47

Coriolanus was learning that, between discipline and getting carried away, there existed but a very fine line. He was not sure of the precise moment he had tittered across the boundary, or, in fact, on which side of this imaginary border he presently resided.

Devoting himself to objectiveness had been a conscious decision—a necessary decision. He really needed to get a grip; his behavior around Lilith Gold of late had been utterly unacceptable. Swearing himself to neutrality, Coriolanus vowed to regard her without labels. She wasn't the daughter of one of his largest sponsors. She wasn't the girl in the rainbow dress.

She was just his apprentice.

This task he had set for himself had initially been as arduous as he had predicted. Every time Coriolanus laid eyes on Lilith's cast, he could almost hear Midas Gold's lecture all over again. Once he managed to ignore the bright, neon, practically luminous thing, though, his endeavor became rather simple.

As her mentor, his duty was to instruct, to guide, to nurture. To do so, he had to pay her attention. And in doing so, he found himself hard pressed to view her as anything but a student.

Actually, he was reminded of it.

Forgetting her ulterior motives had always been the easy part—the dangerous part. There was just something about her industrious, fastidious aura that made the image so believable. Now that he allowed himself to see it, she did seem genuinely earnest. She never put on airs some heiresses did. She never acted in the entitled manner one might expect of an only child. Coriolanus was well aware that neither term applied to her any longer, but if he his math was correct, she had spent more than half her life under their very definitions. She had been raised as such, and old habits died hard.

He would know. He was regressing into a state of suspicion over the honest display. He was watching her, taking note of her every move like she was of the discussion ongoing around them. He was watching her watch the clock, watching her pretend she was merely adjusting the grip on her pen—a positively ordinary thing compared to the one she had brandished on her first day—when, in truth, she was peeping at her watch. Admittedly, she was being rather surreptitious about it. If he wasn't so mindful of her, he could have missed it altogether.

Her furtive conduct persisted until Cora announced that she needed something from her desk. Everyone was released for a brief five-minute break, and while most in attendance had jumped at the chance for respite and refreshments—their brainstorming session had, ultimately, been going on for over an hour by this point—Lilith wasn't one of them. Company seemed to have been what had compelled her façade. In its absence, it faltered, and her restlessness shone through.

Over the rim of his coffee, which he had barely touched for his participation and surveillance, Coriolanus eyed the teenager. Her thumb twisting idly at her stationery's cap, Lilith was frowning at her skirt, as if there was a puzzle to be solved on the plain black fabric.

Basic and dressy all at once, her outfit was a truly understated piece. The somber colour was not one he would have ever pegged to her, but the unembellished, unpretentious look seemed to complement her person to perfection. Although Lilith was regularly—always—fashionable, the ensemble still felt like a step up from her usual style. On the eve of the Thanksgiving weekend, though, it was not at all out of place. Indeed, Coriolanus would be surprised if she hadn't lined anything up for the special occasion.

"Do you have somewhere else to be?" he asked.

His tone was low and probably inaudible to anyone else in the room, but beside him, Lilith gave a start. When she glanced over, her eyes were wide and horrified. After several soundless attempts of opening and closing her mouth, she finally nodded.