Birds of a Feather (CinnaxPortia Fanfic)
Sept 4, 2009 23:41:53 GMT -5
Post by Gorim on Sept 4, 2009 23:41:53 GMT -5
Cinna and Portia sat together in the elegant rooms of the Stylists, both working quietly on their respective costumes. The Reaping was fast approaching, and with it the Opening Ceremonies and the Interviews. They had to at least make up a theme before then.
“Cinna?” Portia said after several hours of silence broken only by the scratching of pencils. “Why did you choose me for your partner?”
Cinna looked up, surprised. “What do you mean?” He asked mildly.
“You’re one of the most talented new Stylists in the Capitol. You had your pick of partners, but you chose me. Why?”
Cinna was silent for a long while, and then answered, “We think the same. We have the same ideas.”
Portia was unimpressed. “I don’t think so. I don’t think that’s it.”
“Really?” Cinna asked. “What are your ideas?”
“Well,” Portia said slowly. “Obviously it has to do with coal. Not coal-miners; that’s overdone. Maybe…” She hesitated, and Cinna watched her closely. “What do we do with coal?” She said after a moment. Cinna grinned.
“We burn it.” He said with a short laugh, and then he picked up his work and showed it to her. “My thoughts exactly.” Portia took it and leafed through it. The costumes he had in mind were sensational, magnificent, dangerous, and bold. And they all had to do with fire.
“Wow,” was all she could say. “This is amazing.”
“It’s somewhat impressive, I suppose,” Cinna said modestly. “I’ve had this thought in my head for a long time; since I was in design school. Lots of time to think about this.”
“Yeah. Honestly, I don’t want to show you mine.” She said sheepishly. Cinna grinned and snatched her design book out from under her elbows. “Hey!” She reached for it, but he got up and held it over his head, reading it.
Portia got up and grabbed for it, but she was short and he was tall, and their height difference made it impossible.
“I like the ember concept,” Cinna said. “Too much makeup for my taste, but the effect would be amazing.”
“Gimmie!” Portia snapped childishly, jumping on her tiptoes for her design book. Again, Cinna lifted it just a hair out of her reach.
“Gimmie gimmie never gets,” Cinna intoned sagely. “The ember concept I like. Let’s see…” He turned the page. “I like this one. Not fire-based, but it’s nice. Good color combination.”
“I swear, I’ll kill you dead if you don’t give me that.” Portia snapped. “You want me to be mean? ‘Cause I will!” Cinna grinned and brought the book down on her head gently.
“You’re not the one being mean.” He said, amused. Portia glared and punched him a bit hard on his arm. “Ow… That hurt.”
“You deserved it.” She said, sitting back down. Cinna sat back down across from her, grinning broadly.
“You know, we went to school together. Remember?” He asked.
“Of course. You were the chubby kid that everyone picked on,” she said absently, making a point of not looking at him and focusing on her work. Cinna flinched.
“Erm…. Yes.”
“And then you lost a bunch of weight in high school and every girl in District 2 fell over themselves.” Portia tried to keep the irritation out of her voice, but apparently didn’t do a good job.
“Aw. Jealous?” Cinna asked playfully.
“Of course not. Work!” Portia tapped Cinna’s design pad smartly.
For an hour or so, the only sound was pencils scratching on paper. After a little, Portia glanced up. Cinna was absorbed entirely in his work. When he was like this, no amount of talking would get through to him.
“Cinna?” She asked. He didn’t answer. “Cinna?” Still nothing. “You know,” she said, figuring it was safe. “I always had a bit of a crush on you.” To her absolute horror and shock, Cinna put his pencil down and looked up at her, grinning.
“Really?” He asked, beaming.
“This must mean more than what it usually would under the circumstances,” Portia said, a bit miffed. “Because you’re pink with barely controlled glee.” Cinna laughed.
“It certainly does,” he said.
“What, did you have a crush on me too?” She asked, a bit heartlessly. His grin subsided a bit, and he suddenly looked a bit sheepish.
“Well… Yes…” He muttered, barely audible, even in the silence. “And, you know…” He twirled his pencil around his finger expertly. “I was wondering…” Portia stared at him, what he was trying to say slowly dawning on her. “If you wanted to… have a cup of coffee." Portia stared at him for a moment. "With me, I mean.” He said quickly Portia smiled slowly.
“Oh, good, because for a second, I thought you were asking me out for Flavius.” She said sarcastically. Cinna blinked, then grinned.
“No, sorry. Are transvestites more your speed? Because if that’s the case, we’re going to have a bit of a problem.”
“Just because Flavius wears lipstick doesn’t mean he’s a transvestite. I think it just makes him gay.” Portia smirked.
“It makes no difference,” Cinna said dismissively. “He’s talented.”
“I never said it did. But back to you asking me out,” she said.
“The offer still stands. Coffee. You and me. No work.”
“No drawing?”
“No designing.”
“Just talking?”
“Maybe we can even watch the Reaping together.” Cinna said this with a touch of irony.
“We’ll have to watch it,” Portia said. Cinna said nothing. “I know you don’t like it.”
“Who does, really?” Cinna said evasively.
“You don't, in particular.” Portia pointed out. Cinna shrugged.
“Perhaps. But let’s not talk about that now.” Smiling, he reached over and touched her hand gently, making her face feel hot. “Coffee?”
“Cinna, it’s 2 in the morning.”
“The bar downstairs then?” Portia smirked.
“Now you’re talking.”
“Cinna?” Portia said after several hours of silence broken only by the scratching of pencils. “Why did you choose me for your partner?”
Cinna looked up, surprised. “What do you mean?” He asked mildly.
“You’re one of the most talented new Stylists in the Capitol. You had your pick of partners, but you chose me. Why?”
Cinna was silent for a long while, and then answered, “We think the same. We have the same ideas.”
Portia was unimpressed. “I don’t think so. I don’t think that’s it.”
“Really?” Cinna asked. “What are your ideas?”
“Well,” Portia said slowly. “Obviously it has to do with coal. Not coal-miners; that’s overdone. Maybe…” She hesitated, and Cinna watched her closely. “What do we do with coal?” She said after a moment. Cinna grinned.
“We burn it.” He said with a short laugh, and then he picked up his work and showed it to her. “My thoughts exactly.” Portia took it and leafed through it. The costumes he had in mind were sensational, magnificent, dangerous, and bold. And they all had to do with fire.
“Wow,” was all she could say. “This is amazing.”
“It’s somewhat impressive, I suppose,” Cinna said modestly. “I’ve had this thought in my head for a long time; since I was in design school. Lots of time to think about this.”
“Yeah. Honestly, I don’t want to show you mine.” She said sheepishly. Cinna grinned and snatched her design book out from under her elbows. “Hey!” She reached for it, but he got up and held it over his head, reading it.
Portia got up and grabbed for it, but she was short and he was tall, and their height difference made it impossible.
“I like the ember concept,” Cinna said. “Too much makeup for my taste, but the effect would be amazing.”
“Gimmie!” Portia snapped childishly, jumping on her tiptoes for her design book. Again, Cinna lifted it just a hair out of her reach.
“Gimmie gimmie never gets,” Cinna intoned sagely. “The ember concept I like. Let’s see…” He turned the page. “I like this one. Not fire-based, but it’s nice. Good color combination.”
“I swear, I’ll kill you dead if you don’t give me that.” Portia snapped. “You want me to be mean? ‘Cause I will!” Cinna grinned and brought the book down on her head gently.
“You’re not the one being mean.” He said, amused. Portia glared and punched him a bit hard on his arm. “Ow… That hurt.”
“You deserved it.” She said, sitting back down. Cinna sat back down across from her, grinning broadly.
“You know, we went to school together. Remember?” He asked.
“Of course. You were the chubby kid that everyone picked on,” she said absently, making a point of not looking at him and focusing on her work. Cinna flinched.
“Erm…. Yes.”
“And then you lost a bunch of weight in high school and every girl in District 2 fell over themselves.” Portia tried to keep the irritation out of her voice, but apparently didn’t do a good job.
“Aw. Jealous?” Cinna asked playfully.
“Of course not. Work!” Portia tapped Cinna’s design pad smartly.
For an hour or so, the only sound was pencils scratching on paper. After a little, Portia glanced up. Cinna was absorbed entirely in his work. When he was like this, no amount of talking would get through to him.
“Cinna?” She asked. He didn’t answer. “Cinna?” Still nothing. “You know,” she said, figuring it was safe. “I always had a bit of a crush on you.” To her absolute horror and shock, Cinna put his pencil down and looked up at her, grinning.
“Really?” He asked, beaming.
“This must mean more than what it usually would under the circumstances,” Portia said, a bit miffed. “Because you’re pink with barely controlled glee.” Cinna laughed.
“It certainly does,” he said.
“What, did you have a crush on me too?” She asked, a bit heartlessly. His grin subsided a bit, and he suddenly looked a bit sheepish.
“Well… Yes…” He muttered, barely audible, even in the silence. “And, you know…” He twirled his pencil around his finger expertly. “I was wondering…” Portia stared at him, what he was trying to say slowly dawning on her. “If you wanted to… have a cup of coffee." Portia stared at him for a moment. "With me, I mean.” He said quickly Portia smiled slowly.
“Oh, good, because for a second, I thought you were asking me out for Flavius.” She said sarcastically. Cinna blinked, then grinned.
“No, sorry. Are transvestites more your speed? Because if that’s the case, we’re going to have a bit of a problem.”
“Just because Flavius wears lipstick doesn’t mean he’s a transvestite. I think it just makes him gay.” Portia smirked.
“It makes no difference,” Cinna said dismissively. “He’s talented.”
“I never said it did. But back to you asking me out,” she said.
“The offer still stands. Coffee. You and me. No work.”
“No drawing?”
“No designing.”
“Just talking?”
“Maybe we can even watch the Reaping together.” Cinna said this with a touch of irony.
“We’ll have to watch it,” Portia said. Cinna said nothing. “I know you don’t like it.”
“Who does, really?” Cinna said evasively.
“You don't, in particular.” Portia pointed out. Cinna shrugged.
“Perhaps. But let’s not talk about that now.” Smiling, he reached over and touched her hand gently, making her face feel hot. “Coffee?”
“Cinna, it’s 2 in the morning.”
“The bar downstairs then?” Portia smirked.
“Now you’re talking.”
