HEART OF GOLD | CORIOLANUS SNOW

𝘾𝙃𝘼𝙋𝙏𝙀𝙍 88

How could it be four thirty already? They had been at this the whole day. How were they not done?

There were still a million things to do, but when Archie and Regulus returned asking how else they could be of assistance, Lilith couldn't find one thing to say to them. She simply blurted her thanks, hugged the bags of hairspray they were lugging to her chest, and rushed around setting one onto each vanity. A task she could very have well delegated, she would later realize.

Right now, however, her mind was a mess, as chaotic as the room itself. She wanted to do everything so that she knew what had been done, knew what could be checked off her endless to-do list. It gave her a false sense of control, as if personally completing one item would save her entire project from ruin. Not that it wasn't already in ruin.

One of the cans slipped from her fingers. Possibly because the strength of her grip had been compromised by the ache in her wrist. Possibly because her palm was slick with sweat, cold or actual she couldn't tell. A result of her nervousness? Or from dashing around like a headless chicken?

The unit had long since transformed into a sauna, and even with her hair tied up into a ponytail, Lilith was hyperaware of the perspiration that formed on the nape of her neck, that dribbled down her back. For an unremarkable cleavage, hers was collecting a lot of droplets in her front, or the sports bra under her cropped tee wouldn't be feeling soaked.

Every other moment the necessity to mop her brow arose, and she swabbed her arm over her forehead as she chased down the cylinder of aerosol—always just out of reach, always slipping away from her—as it rolled across the floor. It reflected the painful truth of her situation: That she was losing control.

That she had lost control.

Someone else picked up the can just as she was closing in. Lilith straightened up, panting, expecting maybe Archie, or Regulus, or one of her other friends, but she should have known. She should have recognized his oxfords even if his scent had been drowned out by the odour of bodies intensifying by the minute.

Her anxiety flared into full-fledged panic, and she felt vaguely faint. It was just as well that Snow relieved her of her load, or she might have dropped it. Dumping the container he'd retrieved into the plastic carrier with the others, he thrusted it to someone in their vicinity, but Lilith couldn't turn to see who—she was frozen in place. Or was she?

With a soft "Come with me," she was whisked out of the dressing room. She desperately wanted to protest. To go back to her work. To apologize. To ask him how long he had been here, how much he had seen. To ask him what in heaven's name he was doing here at all when he ought to be across the city and changed. But nothing came out of her throat and mouth, both paper-dry. Anyway, deep down, she knew.

Someone must have told him. Perhaps the logistics Gamemaker who had been barking out the time more relentlessly than a grandfather clock. Perhaps his supervisor, Mr. Pryde, who had never really approved of Lilith's endeavours. Perhaps it was all of them, whom Lilith had absolutely no right to blame. They were just looking out for the team—a team she was rapidly and assuredly bringing down.

Although she had no clue what they'd said to him, she considered the magnitude of something that could have compelled the Head Gamemaker to make the especial trip and winced. Briefly, Lilith entertained the notion of him thinking that her incompetence had been exaggerated. That it wasn't as bad as he had imagined. That she wasn't screwing up as royally as she had imagined. But it seemed wishful to assume he was hustling her out to offer praise. More than wishful—it was stupid.

No, it was naïve. It was unrealistic.

Idealistic.

Just as warm though less humid, the corridor granted no respite from the merciless heat. Only in the medical centre did Lilith feel like she wasn't inhaling pure water vapour. Oblivious to the lone nurse manning the apartment, startled as they barged in, Lilith started to cry—the only thing she wanted to do that she actually did.