HEART OF GOLD | CORIOLANUS SNOW

𝘾𝙃𝘼𝙋𝙏𝙀𝙍 74

Lilith had been tossing so much in her bed the sheets were coming loose. She flipped onto her other side yet another time, suspecting she might never sleep again. Even after a hot bath. Even after a full body massage. Even after a meal of sweet cocoa tempered with savoury toasted salmon mayonnaise tartines had been coaxed into her empty stomach. Even after her apologies had been accepted by both Criseida and her father.

It wasn't just the physical ailments—the pulsing in her feet, the ache in her arm, the itch on her back, the thundering of her heart, or the stinging of her eyes. She had cried herself dry after that terrible outburst. It had been her father who'd lifted her from a heap on the floor of her room onto the edge of her mattress, where she hugged him with all her might as she begged for forgiveness.

She hadn't meant it; she didn't know why she'd said that. Of course, she hadn't meant it; he knew she hadn't, and Criseida did, too. Criseida, whom Lilith found in her doorway, whom Lilith had lurched towards, only to crumple onto her knees. She sobbed and blubbered her sorrys on the carpet, cradled in the arms of the woman who wasn't her mother.

Of course, Criseida wasn't her mother. But she hadn't been trying to be—she had never tried to be. There was no need to say it aloud, let alone yell it to the entire house.

Both adults had insisted it was alright, that they didn't blame her. She'd had a rough night and ought to rest. Mae had come to perform her nightly routine, then Cook appeared with the food. Lilith ate and drank so that the staff could go back to sleep. She already felt terrible for worrying all of them in the middle of the night, not to mention precipitating her family's return from their spring break getaway, surely alerting her grandaunt, too.

But Lilith's guilt wasn't just limited to the Golds and their staff. In fact, most of it lay elsewhere, in an apartment ten kilometers away, where a blonde-haired girl slept, blissfully unaware of her best friend's treachery.

How could she do such a thing? How could she steal what had always belonged to Athena, again?

It was easy to feel the shame when Lilith was alone. It had overwhelmed her in that room Lieutenant Flint had brought her to. The officer had panicked at her falling tears, pleading for her to stop. Lilith agreed that she didn't want to get him into trouble, but despite her efforts, her face remained wet, droplets dripping off her chin onto her biscuits. It was just as well. The plain wafers had been difficult to swallow before that, and she still wasn't quite sure how to consume milk out of a carton without a straw.

Yet, when she wasn't alone...

In that moment when she realized they had to be separated, Lilith had been seized by a distinct sense of fear. Something had made her frightened to go, like she was afraid she might never see him again if she did. The rose had helped her to believe. When she held it in her palm, when she inhaled its scent—his scent—she could believe him. She could believe that he would come back. But when he did, it dawned on her that it hadn't been just about his safety.

Lieutenant Flint had not scolded her, shouted at her, or abused her in any way. He'd just been cold and forbidding, which seemed worse. His constant glowering made Lilith feel unwelcome and like a burden. The doctor who'd come to examine her echoed that by muttering about people dying and here she was, pasting plasters on blisters. But when Lilith had volunteered to do it herself, the doctor only retorted, "And let you break your hand while at it? No, thanks." She left in a huff, still grumbling, but Lieutenant Flint continued standing guard, never letting Lilith out of his sight, in accordance with his orders. Yet, she had never been more unsettled, bewildered by the unkindness that seemed excessive despite their circumstances.

It was only when Snow had return that it occurred to her how vulnerable she'd felt. When he took her into his arms, it felt like nothing could hurt her. When he took her into his arms, she just wanted to stay there—to feel safe, and reassured that he was, too. When he took her into his arms, she forgot everything.