We're all a part of someone's game, aren't we, Miss Everdeen? We may both be players in this game, but I still have the... advantage.
[Every word is chosen carefully. Especially the next part.]
Tell me, in this game you're in, is Mr. Mellark safe?
[He doesn't know if Peeta's in her game, but he's taking a guess. He studies her carefully, searching for a flinch or grimace or anything to suggest weakness to him.]
[She has a counter for that, just waiting to spring off the tip of her tongue. That whatever advantage he thinks he has is null and void. He may be well-versed in games, but these are nothing they know.
At the mention of Peeta's name, though, it falters.
Every effort she can expend is now devoted to maintaining that impassivity. To keeping her emotions in check, to not allowing the all too familiar wave of overwhelming guilt slip through the cracks. It's a long moment, too long, before:]
Yes. [Her voice catches, just slightly with that word. Betraying her, even if she's quick to force the coldness to return.] He's safe.
Are you sure? [He studies his nails, as if this conversation has no meaning, as if it's actually boring him.] Are you quite sure? The world is full of enemies, Miss Everdeen.
[Of course, she knows better. Whatever the reason may be, this conversation is of great interest to him. Regardless of where his eyes are, her every move is being scrutinized. For a moment, it's as if she's gone back in time, back to the day she was due to leave for the Victory Tour, when she'd returned from the woods to find him waiting for her. The chill that now runs down her spine only adds to the parallels.
"Convince me."
There's, again, the sense that every step she treads carries the weight of the world.]
no subject
[Every word is chosen carefully. Especially the next part.]
Tell me, in this game you're in, is Mr. Mellark safe?
[He doesn't know if Peeta's in her game, but he's taking a guess. He studies her carefully, searching for a flinch or grimace or anything to suggest weakness to him.]
no subject
At the mention of Peeta's name, though, it falters.
Every effort she can expend is now devoted to maintaining that impassivity. To keeping her emotions in check, to not allowing the all too familiar wave of overwhelming guilt slip through the cracks. It's a long moment, too long, before:]
Yes. [Her voice catches, just slightly with that word. Betraying her, even if she's quick to force the coldness to return.] He's safe.
no subject
no subject
"Convince me."
There's, again, the sense that every step she treads carries the weight of the world.]
Maybe you should worry about yours.
no subject
I only worry on your part because we are such friends. I would not want you to be caught unawares.