s i x t y - s i x

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After enduring Stacy's silent smirk as she makes me back up, I head to the Women's Room, happy the rain is still coming down. It will always mean something special to me now.

But while Peeta and I can escape for a little while, once we're out of our bubble, the tension in the ultimatum the rebels have placed on the Elite is thick. All the girls are distracted and anxious.

Glimmer wordlessly paints her nails at a nearby table, and I can see the slight tremor in her hand from time to time. I watch as she cleans up her mistakes and tries to carry on. Esim holds a book in her hands, but her eyes are trained on the window, lost in the downpour. None of us can quite manage to finish even the smallest task.

"How do you think it's going out there?" Delly asks me, her hand paused over the needlepoint pillow she's working on.

"I don't know," I answer quietly. "It doesn't seem like they'd threaten something huge and then do nothing." I'm penciling a melody I have in my head on some sheet music. There's not much of a point to it, but it keeps me busy.

"Do you think they're hiding the number of deaths from us?" she wonders.

"It's possible. If we leave, they win."

Delly does another stitch. "I'm going to stay no matter what." Something about the way she says it seems to be directed specifically at me. Like I need to know she's not giving up on Peeta.

"Same here," I promise.

-

The next day is much of the same, though I've never been so disappointed to see the sun shine before. The worry is so heavy that all I can do is stay put. I ache to run, to put my energy into something.

After lunch, we return to the Women's Room is staggered. Esim is reading as I sit with my sheet music, but Delly and Glimmer are missing. Maybe ten minutes after, Delly walks in with full arms. She sits down with drawing paper and a collection of colored pencils.

"What are you working on?" I ask.

She shrugs. "Whatever keeps me busy." She sits for a long time with a red pencil in her hand, hovering over the paper. "I don't know what I'm doing," she finally says. "I know that people are in danger, but I love him. I don't want to leave."

"The king and queen won't let anyone die," Esim offers comfortingly.

"But people have already died," Delly isn't argumentative, only worried. "I just need to think about something else."

"I bet Effie would have work for us," I offer.

Delly gives a single chuckle. "I'm not that desperate." She puts the tip of the pencil down, making a smooth curve across the page. It's a start. "Everything will be fine. I'm sure of it."

I rub my eyes, looking at my music. I need to switch things up.

"I'm going to hop over to one of the libraries. I'll be right back."

Esim and Delly give me a nod as they attempt to focus on their tasks, and I stand to leave.

I wander down the hall to one of the rooms on the far end of the floor. There are a few books on these shelves I've been wanting to read. The door of the parlor swings open quietly, and I realize I'm not alone. Someone is crying.

I search for the source and find Glimmer, hugging her knees to her chest, sitting on the wide perch of a windowsill. I feel immediately awkward. Glimmer does not cry. Up until this moment, I hadn't even been sure she was capable of crying tears that aren't fakes.

The only thing to do is leave, but as she wipes her eyes she catches sight of me.

"Ugh!" she whines. "What do you want?"

imperfect fit ; an everlark au based off of 'the selection' seriesWhere stories live. Discover now