Panem Forever.
Jun. 27th, 2018 06:18 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
smiles_onHer body knows where she is before she's fully awake because her heart is hammering in her chest and she can barely breathe. Perhaps it's the familiar feel of a bed she'd woken up in for years, or maybe it's the smell of the sheets and whatever detergent the cleaners use, but even with her eyes closed she knows.
She can feel John next to her, but she's terrified to move. Terrified to make a single sound because then it will be real. If she can stay in this half-way place between asleep and awake then maybe there's still a chance it's just a dream. A nightmare. Maybe if she can will herself back into unconsciousness she'll wake up in their bed, in the home they made.
Even as she has the thought she knows it's a pointless lie. So she opens her eyes and swallows her scream with the iron control she'd learned over a lifetime in the Capitol. She'd thought maybe she could finally let go of it, of all this, but she was a fool to even hope. As much of a fool as Haymitch always thought she was to ever think she could escape this place. This prison. And now she's condemned John to this hell along side her and she knows how selfish it is to find comfort in his being there but she's always been selfish, she knows that. No amount of time away can change someone that much.
Her entire body is shaking so hard she's amazed she hasn't woken him yet, but she's glad of it. She needs a minute. She needs to bring the panic down, even if only a little bit, before she can cope with him knowing what's happened. So she looks around a room she thought she'd never see again. Pink and plush and immaculate, filled with all the paraphernalia of a life she'd left behind. On her right an enormous dressing room filled with clothes, wigs, shoes, purses -- only the latest trends, of course. To the left side of the bed a bathroom, she can see the gleaming white marble beyond. The door to the bedroom is closed, but she knows exactly what's out there. She's lived in this apartment since she became an Escort. The decor is updated every year, but the layout doesn't change. She knows all the rooms and she knows they are alone and knowing that means she's finally able to give herself the relief of letting out a tiny, broken sound.
From the light coming in through the window behind them she can tell it's early. The sun is only just beginning to rise and she knows that most people in her social circle would be heading home now from whatever parties they'd gone to that night. There was time, at least. Hours before anyone would be calling for her. Time enough to figure out... to figure out what they were going to do. Because all Effie knows for sure in this moment is that John is in danger here. They are both is so much danger.
She can feel John next to her, but she's terrified to move. Terrified to make a single sound because then it will be real. If she can stay in this half-way place between asleep and awake then maybe there's still a chance it's just a dream. A nightmare. Maybe if she can will herself back into unconsciousness she'll wake up in their bed, in the home they made.
Even as she has the thought she knows it's a pointless lie. So she opens her eyes and swallows her scream with the iron control she'd learned over a lifetime in the Capitol. She'd thought maybe she could finally let go of it, of all this, but she was a fool to even hope. As much of a fool as Haymitch always thought she was to ever think she could escape this place. This prison. And now she's condemned John to this hell along side her and she knows how selfish it is to find comfort in his being there but she's always been selfish, she knows that. No amount of time away can change someone that much.
Her entire body is shaking so hard she's amazed she hasn't woken him yet, but she's glad of it. She needs a minute. She needs to bring the panic down, even if only a little bit, before she can cope with him knowing what's happened. So she looks around a room she thought she'd never see again. Pink and plush and immaculate, filled with all the paraphernalia of a life she'd left behind. On her right an enormous dressing room filled with clothes, wigs, shoes, purses -- only the latest trends, of course. To the left side of the bed a bathroom, she can see the gleaming white marble beyond. The door to the bedroom is closed, but she knows exactly what's out there. She's lived in this apartment since she became an Escort. The decor is updated every year, but the layout doesn't change. She knows all the rooms and she knows they are alone and knowing that means she's finally able to give herself the relief of letting out a tiny, broken sound.
From the light coming in through the window behind them she can tell it's early. The sun is only just beginning to rise and she knows that most people in her social circle would be heading home now from whatever parties they'd gone to that night. There was time, at least. Hours before anyone would be calling for her. Time enough to figure out... to figure out what they were going to do. Because all Effie knows for sure in this moment is that John is in danger here. They are both is so much danger.
