Dancing with our hands tied || Snowbaird

Chapter Eight

-Coriolanus-

"You've been invited too?" Coriolanus glanced at Clemmie as she made her way to the glass doors of the Old Opera House. She just laughed and raised her eyebrows at him in disbelief.
"Apparently," she grinned before fixing a piece of her dress, "they had my stylist put me in the worst, itchiest thing ever. It feels like there are ants crawling all over me, I don't know how I'll survive this evening- if I will at all."

"Same here," he replied nonchalantly despite there being much more depth behind his small reply. Dr Gauls words still rang clear in his mind and he could almost hear her saying that she would punish him by punishing Lucy Gray, which in other words meant that she would torture her till she couldn't take it. As if she hadn't already gone through enough torture in one lifetime. After that, Dr Gaul left with that terrifying, skin-crawling laugh and he was taken out of the white room by his arms and legs like a dead person. Of course just as he was being restrained he caught a wonderful glimpse of her standing in the hallway, where she pinned him with her stare before making a little bird with her hands and then pretending to slice her throat with her finger. It wasn't hard to interpret the message.

"Yeah, definitely," he repeated again, as if trying to make his voice sound different. Did it sound different? His throat felt dry as if he had been parched after not drinking water for days on end, and his tongue felt like it was shrivelling up into a tiny useless snake. "Let's get inside, I need a drink," he coughed shyly and touched his neck before guiding Clemensia to the entrance.

"God you're in such a rush to get everywhere, it's not like this thing will actually be fun," she sighed. Clemensia liked to complain. A lot. She would be able to mull over the smallest thing for hours if someone let her. "It will probably be just wine, then dancing, then more wine, followed by some dancing, and more wine of course, and by then you'll be either too tired or too drunk so they'll make you sit down and watch some sort of performance done by some sort of-."

Coriolanus stopped in his tracks and people around him gave out agitated huffs for blocking their way. God people loved to find the dumbest thing to be annoyed over. "Performance?" He whispered so quietly that he wasn't sure if it seemed like it was to himself only. "Performance," he mumbled again and Clemensia gave him a little tug on the arm as a couple rolled their eyes at the pair. "Yes there will be a performance, Coriolanus, probably some low life who has nothing better to do," her voice darkened at the phrase 'low life' and she glanced around self consciously, "oo, or they might bring someone from the Districts, that would be a sight."

The Districts? Performer? Could his day finally start getting better? Lucy Gray's name was the only he could come up with, and she was here, in the Capitol, brought out for some reason no one could explain until Clemensia brought this up. "Thank you, Clemmie," he gave her a hug, that he was sure he could've easily squeezed all the air out of her, "but I've got to go, I'll see you later." She looked at him as he ran out of sight and through the double glass doors. Lucy Gray. Lucy Gray who he thought he wouldn't see again. Lucy Gray who sang for milk snakes and collected wildflowers by the lake. Lucy Gray who this time wouldn't be chained up with her hands behind her back like a criminal.

It's not like their first reunion really actually counted, the girl was in agony from whatever they did to her and the only way he knew it was even her was because of her voice. They didn't even let him see her face. For a moment he paused and second guessed himself. Only 10 years after the war, and the Capitol was creating new technology at an alarming rate. Coriolanus had a terrible realisation that they could've somehow used a recording of Lucy Gray's voice to make her talk to him in there. Then again he remembered her soft touch and the callouses around her fingers when they brushed his palm, and started walking into the main hall of the Old Opera House faster than before.