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Time moved slowly around her, it seemed to drag and freeze on her skin.
A decade had passed since her escape from District 12; an escape from slander and a death sentence. Only she had not imagined that the same accusations would come with her deep into the woods in the form of the one man she had blindly trusted. She escaped him then -just barely, with a few scratches and an injured ankle from falling down a slope-, and she’d gone far north only to find nothing but solitude. She thought she’d be fine there, could make a life in the wilderness with just the roots beneath her boots and meat from the thin rabbits her traps managed to catch. But truth be told, she hated the isolation the forest carried. Hated being alone with just her mind to talk to, she missed the sound of crowds wailing and murmuring one over the other. And oh! how she missed live music! She sang as much as she wanted but only the birds followed her tune, there was no Maude Ivory to harmonize with and no Barb Azure to match the melody.
It was all so boring, and it was driving her crazy.
That final thought was what made up her mind. Trekking back to District 12 reaching that old cabin in the woods where her plans with Coriolanus were ruined. She stationed there, memories overflowing as every event that happened there became clear again. The betrayal from both parts; him with his involvement in the death of Sejanus, and hers, the fracture of her trust in him and the planting of the snake beneath his mother’s scarf. As much as she detested him for the lies and his autocratic ideals, she found herself missing his arms and the sweet pressure of them around her body. She missed the needy selfish satisfaction of breaking a posh Capitol boy down to his knees in the dirt of District 12.
She stayed in the Cabin for the following two weeks, conflicted on whether to return to the Covey or remain hidden; to venture into the District or get lost up north again. It’d been ten years since the last time she stepped foot in 12: would they still be hunting her? Had Mayor Lipp given up on hanging a rope around her neck? Had Coriolanus stayed as a peacekeeper and move up the ranks? Simple questions that kept her locked away.
It wasn’t until she heard the soft giggles and murmurs of people coming down the path that she dared a peek to the outside, only to find a grown Maude Ivory and C.C. laughing as they walked with ease. Overwhelming happiness in her chest as she skipped towards them. She thought she would never see them again and yet there they were, turning to look at her with inspecting eyes only for them to turn to surprised astonishment.
“Lucy Gray? Is it really you?” murmured Maude Ivory into her hair, gripping Lucy Gray in a tight embrace.
“Sure is, sweetheart.” She replied with a half sob, stepping back to hold her in her palms.
It was then that she noticed how grown they both were: she a head taller than herself with long blond hair that fell down past her waist, and Clerk Carmine still a frail thin boy but high like a pine tree. They were no longer the children of the Covey but rather grownups that would certainly have questions.
“Where were you all this time?” asked Maude Ivory.
She learned a variety of truths and lies that day, made from whispers that traveled all the way down from the Capitol. The truth: It seemed that after the little outing to the woods Coriolanus had managed to sneak his way back to the Capitol, an astute snake since he’d climb and grapple stone by stone to the point of becoming the current president of Panem. She’d known he had the intention of returning to the Capitol, a part of her knew he was deep in the clutches of the Hunger Games. The betrayed part of her hoped he’d be content with simply aiding the Games, but it seemed she chewed more than she could swallow.
After that day Lucy Gray had become a myth, a mystery in District 12. Nobody knew where she was which drove Mayor Lipp into hysteria, causing his removal from the town office. The Hunger Games continued as if nothing had ever happened, removing her Games and herself from history.
“What happened out there Lucy Gray? Why didn’t you return?” inquired C.C., a small frown on his face that made him look younger than the grown adult he’d bloomed into.
The lies: She planned to run away after Mayor Lipp accused her of murder. She’d taken her things and decided to go up north, alone. She wanted to tell them the full truth but abstained, it was better if she remained dead to the world.
“Maybe your peacekeeper friend– correction, the President now– can help clear your name! He’s powerful now!” said Maude Ivory gleefully taking Lucy Gray’s hands in hers.
“No! You can’t tell anyone I’m alive, do you understand?”
A pause but they nodded, not fully understanding why but respecting her wishes.
“Of course.”
She decided to station herself in that little cabin near the lake, receiving clothes and necessities from the Covey whenever they slipped away and came to visit her. She managed to make a small home in that cabin, just herself on the edge of the world. At times she would cloak herself and venture into District 12, marveling at how different it all was, and how restricted it became. More peacekeepers on watch, more hunger and starvation roaming the streets. Passing the closed Hob, reminiscing on good times where she would perform all night until her breath cut short with tiredness, so long ago that it felt like a different lifetime. She would repeat her outings for a couple of months, always being careful and distant from crowds, hiding her face just in case someone recognized her. So far, she had managed to stay hidden, safe and guarded from the claws of the Capitol.
Coming back to her cabin one night she stepped into the dark room humming to herself, unaware of the dark shadow standing in the corner. Slipping her cloak off she turned to the sound of the creaking floorboards, horror filling her chest as she studied the man’s silhouette against the faint moonlight. A tall muscular body: big and board.
Her mind immediately went to the last man she’d been with, but she quickly discarded the idea, no he’s too far away and nobody knows I’m alive. Leaning against the wooden wall she scrambled closer to the door, the knob only a breath away from her fingertips.
“I suppose ghosts like to wander amongst the living to reminisce how it felt when they were alive, wouldn’t you agree?” he said.
The voice was deep and soft like satin on skin, she’d expected it to be the young breathy voice she faintly remembered of Coriolanus. But to be fair her mind could be playing tricks with her, it’d been 10 years and as much as she forced herself to remember his voice it was just scratches and figments, mostly of him screaming her name as he aimed to the sky.
“Who are you and what do you want?” she said, voice as monotone and strong as she could manage even though the fear was tearing her up. She watched the man move around the cabin, big hands passing through the small table, fingers grazing the edge of the chair only to sit on it.
“I know you’ve been living out here for quite some time, so alone and so desolate. Does it get to your head?”
With her body ready to snap she decided to straighten herself, pulling away from the door. A realization came down upon her, the feeling of dissolution and weakness. For the first time in her life she decided she was done with running. She’d done it all her life, first when moving around with the Covey, then in the Hunger Games; and when she thought she was done running, Coriolanus chased her out of 12. But she was tired now, and she hungered for affection. She wanted to stop depending on her wits to survive for just one night.
“It does.” she admitted, whatever this man wanted he ought to take it before her resolve changed.
“I’ve heard tales about the girl who went into the woods and drowned in the lake, who used to sing to the birds so much she became one. I’ve also heard that the same girl is a murderer, condemning her ex and his lover to the end of a gun.” his fingers drumming against the table, contemplating her still form in the darkness. “Word has it this girl ventured into the Capitol and returned victorious, she cheated her way and the next thing you know is that the President wanted her dead. How much of what I said is true, Lucy Gray?”
Words like whiskey against her skin, dread mixing in the pit of her stomach: she had been found. Her eyes suddenly scanning the small room and windows, it would be only a matter of seconds before peacekeepers came to snatch her. She would be chained again or worse.
“No one’s coming,” he lifts a hand, a promise hanging in the air. “yet.”
“What do you want?” anger mixing in her voice, the threat of blackmail visible and suffocating.
“I have a proposition.”
She scoffed, rolling her eyes. A part of her knew this was coming, it was always the same with these men and their carnal desires the moment they found someone defenseless. It had happened before to her and by the looks of it, it would happen again. Always to spare a kiss, a touch or more, always at the price of something.
“You are alone and in need of company; let me take care of you.”
Now she laughed, crushing the eerie silence of the woods as her laughter filled the room, she wondered if they could probably hear her back at 12. Composing herself she looked at him, an unknown face that promised fleeting touches and a soul to talk to. To be fair the proposal did call to her, maybe she could give in this once. Fumble around and forget about it tomorrow.
“You want to play the husband?” she taunted, stepping closer to where he sat. A step at a time as his face angled higher to look at her approaching form. “You want to play house? The little wife who waits for you with open legs?” she couldn’t contain the sardonic smile that plagued her lips.
She wished she could see his face simply to know what he was thinking, on the other hand she was grateful he remained unknown. If -when- she agreed to his terms it would make the whole ordeal digestible.
It’d been too long since the last time she touched someone, so far ago since she last kissed a pair of lips. Out in the woods she had touched herself many times but there was always something missing, a fullness she could never reach. An opportunity had arisen and the prospect in front of her didn’t seem so bad. He stood from his seat, towering over her as he rolled his muscles back into place. A mighty man, big and strong. A pleased sentiment spreading over her body as her cheeks flamed in anticipation. She stretched her palms and reached for his face, cradling the warm skin of his cheeks, surprised to find a solid cheekbone and a strong jaw. No stubble or beard which was what she had imagined on him, she began to wonder what hue his eyes were or the way his lips would color under her teeth.
“Come to the light, I want to see you.” she mumbled, holding his face tightly as she stepped toward the window.
She felt his hands lock around her wrists, stopping her from moving away. Feeling the way his large fingers wrapped around her bony wrists, she suddenly felt like a twig.
“Say you accept this arraignment and I’ll set my conditions.”
“Conditions?” her brow arching in confusion, wasn’t the blackmail enough already?
“Say you agree, Lucy Gray.”
A pause, the way he said her name with the same timber and hopefulness of the one that left her for dead in this forest. She took a step back but his hands remained like iron on her wrist, fear clinging to her neck as she tried to drown out the memories. No, this wasn’t him. He’d never find his way back to District 12.
“Who are you?”
She heard him take in a breath. “Just a man in desperate need of company.”
The tone was different, the voice so mature and grown. This wasn’t Coriolanus, she assured herself, drowning the doubt in her chest as she relaxed.
“What are your conditions?” she asked.
“You don’t inquire about me, understood? You don’t ask and you don’t look,”
“Don’t look? How am I supposed to-“
“All we do must be done in the secrecy of darkness. You shall not see my face unless I wish it, is that clear?” The last words ringing with authority, it crossed Lucy Gray’s mind that whoever this man was, he was a man with power.
“Clear.” She responded.
He released her hands and took her face instead, thumbs grazing her cheekbone in a soft caress. She realized how much she missed being held, being touched like she was the summer in a coldest winter night. She couldn’t help the way her face seemed to lean into his touch.
“I am a busy man; therefore, I will come to you only twice a month.”
“I thought you said you were desperate for company?” she couldn’t contain the tiny whine that escaped her mouth as she asked. He hadn’t even touched her like she wanted him to and yet she was already needy for more.
“A man needs to work if he’s to care for the woman locked away in the woods, is he not? And we wouldn’t want peacekeepers poking around, do we?”
She nodded, releasing herself from his grip and moving near the small bed in the corner. Her fingers undoing the buckle of her belt, smoothing it over a bunk before removing her boots. Turning to the faceless figure she removed the buttons on her dress, exposing skin he could barely see in the faint moonlight. In darkness she undressed and sat on the edge of the bed, her heart thundering in her chest as she waited expectantly.
She saw nothing but his frame moving in the shadows, hearing the way his clothes rustled as he removed piece by piece. He stepped in front of her, his head bowed as his broad palm dove for her cheek, cupping the flesh as she nuzzled his palm, fingers moving to sink into the soft curls of her mane. Her head lifting as he pulled on her hair so she looked into the shadow of what could be his eyes. The sudden roughness of his touch brough forth an excitement she had buried deep inside her chest. She felt it bubbling and pooling in the pit of her stomach, a sudden wetness that caused her thighs to rub together.
“Let me in, Lucy Gray.” He ordered; she needed no clarification for his question was clear.
Eyes wide she braced her hands to the edge of the bed, fisting the sheets underneath her. She pried her legs open, wide enough so he stepped right between, she watched as he dropped to his knees and faced her exposed sex. Her cheeks a complete flame as the blush traveled down to her chest, she didn’t know if he could see just how wet and messy she was, how her body seemed to ache for the slightest touch of a man.
She felt his palm travel over her leg, fingers so long that they wrapped and moved from inner to the outer skin, causing her body to spasm at the anticipation. Touch that lifted and traveled until his fingers ghosted just atop her sex, deciding to play circles over her pubic hair. He was drawing her out, enjoying the little sounds that left her mouth as he teased her. A long finger slipped over her folds, strong as he dipped just slightly so he could feel the wet mess that dripped out of her. She heard him chuckle softly, placing another finger as she felt him spread her folds. She was content with his exploring’s, half hoping he would drive a finger inside her. Closing her eyes, she let herself enjoy the sensations, leaning back on her elbows as he traced her slit.
Surprise crashed over her when she felt the soft push of his lips atop her hooded clit, eyes flying open as she looked down to him, finding him buried into her cunt, his nose caressed in the curl of her pubic bone.
“What- what are you doing?” she gasped.
He placed a firm hand on her lower belly pushing her back against the sheets, confused and dazed she laid back. He planted another plush kiss atop her clit, sucking just slightly as she felt the air punch out of her lungs. He traveled down and flickered his tongue across her folds, spreading her lips enough for his tongue to press inside of her. The world felt searing hot, his mouth making wonders on her sensitive skin. He lapped at her cunt, hungry for the fluids she could spare him. Tongue moving up and down only to rest atop her clit, the tip flickering around the nerve at a torturous rhythm as she moaned and pleaded above him. He was working her up and all the repressed tension was finally seeping out of her muscles; her only lifeline was the hand that pressed her tightly to the mattress.
It came as a blessing when he slipped a finger inside her folds, a long middle finger she supposed as the digit became enveloped in her cunt, so easily as if it belonged there. The wetness making the intrusion so easy as he pumped at a nice speed, stretching skin so he opted for adding another. Two long fingers arching slightly, creating delicious pressure that was driving her to the edge. She was conscious of the obscene sounds she was making, not caring as she was too lost in the wonderful sensations of his mouth sucking on her clit and the strong fingers drawing her orgasm. She danced across the edge of bliss, holding to the hand across her belly, nails digging on his skin as she crashed down on him. Her wails of pleasure ringing in her ears, eyes screwed shut as she chased the ecstasy of the moment. It wasn’t until she opened her eyes that she realized she was grinding her hips against his offering mouth, coaxing the orgasm out of her system.
He rose to his full height, a hand dragging over his mouth as he wiped her fluids off. A wave of shame crashed over her as she adverted her eyes. No one had touched her the way he’d just done, she had heard whispers but considered it something unsanitary or absurd. A finger on her chin forced her to lift her gaze to him, he lowered so his face came near hers.
“Sweeter than honey.” He murmured, voice low and intoxicating.
A feverish flame returned as she smiled at him, they couldn’t see each other but with the pure touch of one another it was more than enough. He climbed atop her, kissing every inch of skin he could find in the darkness, biting just enough to leave marks. She was grateful for it since it would prove that this had happened, and it wasn’t just a figment of her imagination. Big hands caressing her breasts, fingers teasing her nipples before being enveloped in his mouth for safekeeping. Contentment filled her up, loving the way this man seemed to feast on any scrap she gave him. Sucking and branding her like some prized possession. Her mind rambled at times; she had hated the times Coriolanus acted so possessive around her, specially when they both lived in District 12. She’d ignored it, half thankful because it was him who saved her from the Games. She was aware of the many times he seemed jealous of any living thing that looked her way, as much as the sick attention of Coriolanus thrilled her it also scared her. But now she had lived alone for ten years, she’d realized she truly had nothing but her wits and her voice, powerful things but useless in solitude. She hated his flaws ten years ago, but now, she treasured them in this stranger.
When he slipped inside of her the world suddenly seemed brighter, the moon shone and just for an instant she could see the light reflecting in his hair. From her position beneath him with her legs tightly coiled around his waist, she could see a glimpse of bright platinum hair, short but beautifully styled despite her many grabs at said hair. She laughed, high as she blamed her orgasm for imagining things that weren’t there.
True to his word she would only see him twice a month with no one but the darkness as their witness. She was more than happy with their arraignment, it let her live the dull life she wanted out in the woods but still communicating with the exterior world and delighting in the pleasures of human touch. No one outside of her circle of trusted knew of her existence and it brought peace to her, knowing that Coriolanus was kilometers away from her and thinking of her as dead. It wasn’t until six months later that the thin veil began to shatter, threads slipping as they connected into something more sinister. It started when she accidently called him ‘Coryo’ as she climaxed, and he simply smiled against her skin. He did ask later that night as she laid in his arms, a simple “was that a past lover?” to which she refused to answer, too embarrassed to have done such thing.
Another month and things started to change for Lucy Gray. She was more aware of the things he said or of the change in tone when she caught him off guard. It was little things that started to trigger her senses. Once he expressed a deep hatred for the mockingjays that slept in the trees around the house, calling them ‘abnormal mutations’. She decided to let it pass, maybe not everyone in District 12 was fond of the birds like she was. What scared her the most was the way he breathed her name ‘Lucy Gray’ like a blessing or a curse, sometimes soft and kind when he took her in his arms and made love to her. Other times he crushed her under his hands as he bruised and viciously pushed inside of her. A storm could be brewing in his eyes and she would be fully unaware. For the first time in months the darkness scared her.
In that moment she decided what she needed to do, so she waited for the next month, collecting candles and removing the curtains that dressed the window. She’d calculated her time and if proven right, it would mean he ought to return that night. She moved the furniture so the bed lay under the window, hoping the full moon would bring enough light to finally see his face.
That night he came as he always did, hidden in darkness with a long cloak framing his body and face. A bag filled with necessities for Lucy Gray that rested next to the door. He removed the cloak as she scrambled out of the bed, the pearly gifted nightgown shining under the moonlight. Barefoot she made her way to him, arching upward to plant a kiss to his lips, silently praying that her fears wouldn’t come true.
“Hello again.” He whispered against her mouth.
She broke into a smile, feeling his arms wrap around her waist, pulling her closer as his grown erection pressed to her pelvis. Arching an eyebrow she laughed, looking down at their pressed bodies, “Hello to you too.” she said.
Playful kisses along her head as his nose inhaled the scent of lavender and rosemary, a warm welcome as he placed kisses along her jaw and neck. “I’ve been thinking about you.”
“I can tell” she replied, content with just being embraced and dreading what she planned to do.
They rapidly eased into the playful rhythm of need and take, toying and tearing the clothes off each other as they ached for skin-to-skin contact. It was always like that and she treasured the sweetness of the moment. It made her feel less like an animal simply waiting for a mate to arrive and more of a human simply craving for the connection in a loved one. He’d learned to coax her up to the point of begging, filling her only to the brim, never over filling so she was left on edge. Stimulating every nerve in her body as she shook in his grasp and pressed to his lush fingers, always teasing but never giving enough until she was pleading for more.
That night she decided to ride him, pushing him against the headboard as she climbed atop him. Lowering her body as his length sheathed itself inside her, stretching enough so she could feel it sting every time she drove to the hilt. Pleased with the low moans he emitted she would rock back and forth, circular motions before climbing up and down, marveling in the mixture of sounds that had become her favorite lullabies. The moon shone brightly but in the moment of pleasure she had forgotten her true purpose, clinging to his back as she moved towards him, the thrust of his hips as he buried his face in her neck, forbidding all access for the light to uncover his true features.
He spilled inside of her, coating her walls in hot spurts as his cock twitched and eased in her cunt. A beautiful ritual they’d grown accustomed to. His head falling to her chest as he spread soft kisses over her skin, sweat mixing with spilled spit as she returned the kisses. Laying on his back with her atop he closed his eyes, relaxed as ever as his breaths became slow and tranquil. Her wary eyes never missing a beat in his breaths, counting the minutes until she could move without causing him to notice. Fear and hope blurring inside her mind as she picked the nightgown and dressed, tiptoeing around the small cabin as she reached for the candles she hid out of a box. Perched on a plate she ignited one, her chest heaving with suspense as she willed her thoughts away. This man is not Coriolanus, she promised herself.
Turning to face him she neared the bed and what she saw was the figment of her nightmares. There lay the man -the boy- she once knew, only bigger and terrible, his face a picture perfect of serenity and peace, his sweaty brow glossed under the white hair that spilled from his head. Where once where curls now laid a mesh of perfectly short hair that had been previously ravaged by her. He looked so different from the boy she once knew but there was no mistake of the monster that now slept in her bed. Suddenly everything became crystal clear, the many times she had fooled herself into thinking otherwise.
The first time she heard his voice she’d troubled herself to sleep into thinking that it was not the same voice, only to realize now how desperately she tricked herself into believing. That first kiss he gave her, it seemed her body had recognized the man before her mind, how his lips seemed to fit perfectly against hers and how his taste had brought memories of meadows and ballads made of nothing but snow. When they laid together in her small bed that first night, her hands roaming over the planes of his back as her tentative fingertips danced around scars she could not see, it had her wondering what did this man endure to earn such marks of war. One scar clung to her thoughts the most, the two circular holes on his forearms, holes that seemed to connect as if it were a snake bite. She called it coincidence back then, but now, she called it stupidity.
The candle fell to the floor in a loud bang, waking Coriolanus from his slumber. The light of the flickering flame illuminating his blue eyes with wonder then disbelief. Her voice caught in her throat as he sat up, chest exposed as her eyes scanned his pale flesh adorned with bite marks and scratches, all products of her doing. Her eyes filled with tears as she slid to the ground, the place where she got rid of him was also the place where they were one. Hysteria was probably taking hold of her, mocking her foolishness and desperation to be held. She broke into laughter, staring at Coriolanus as he slipped into his pants, coming close to crouch in front of her.
“To be fair, I’m quite surprised you didn’t do it sooner.” He said, face hard and cold. All these nights not once did she imagine the man she laid with to be so cold and sharp. “The act of betrayal calls to you like bees to honey.”
“The irony, Coriolanus! I’m sure you see it.” Months spent in his embrace, trusting a figure she’d known deep down who he was and yet desperately trying to pretend naught. He could mock her all he wanted for being drawn to the same mistakes over and over again, but he was no different. No matter what she did to him, how she betrayed, killed and lied he would also crawl back to her. They were each other’s honey in a twisted cruel way. “Are you not tired of always coming back?” The tears spilling freely. “Aren’t you tired of these wretched woods?”
He flinched, adverting his gaze to the flowers perched on the table. He swallowed and turned to her, eyes a pit of nothingness. “I want to burn these trees to the ground, with you and all its mockingjays in it.”
Another laugh, a thrill to see his anger flourish into conflict behind his eyes, a small victory she could earn. “There it is! That’s Coriolanus!”
The terrifying thing was that she too was sick of these woods, tired of the simplicity and isolation they offered. She’d lost herself all those years deep in the north, with nothing and no one to anchor her to her humanity. She had found her way again, back to the strumming of music and tumultuous heartbeats of engagement and excitement. Strung with guilt and regret she had to acknowledge it was all due to him; to the excitement of meeting him and the blissful feeling of being loved. She realized she’d found her home in the arms of a boy who liked to play tyrant.
Her gaze softened slightly as she looked at him, a different sentiment as her emotions mixed and battled inside her. “There you are.”