she's all shook up = eve/kate > bachelorette ep.3

Her feet felt like atom bombs hitting the floor, tap, tap, boom! Evening could feel it again, the intensity of Katelyn's gaze on her and for a moment she felt like she did in the morning after waking, in the climax of a stretch. Her breath got caught up in the middle of her head and light drifted in through the corners of her shuttered skin. The sweetness made it tingle, as if a hundred light bugs were dancing on the freckles that dotted her arms in scattered remnants of a city long thought dead.

Her smile grew wider.

Just Katelyn and her. There were cameras and an instructor but she could ignore them. For just a few goddamned moments she could be brave enough to be herself. This room with mirrors that stared and reflected left nothing hidden and it was this type of room she knew best. Many things had happened to her in rooms like these, many of them awful but even more of them incredible.

She could allow this thing to be incredible too.

Her cheeks darkened without thought or question as to why they should when Katelyn complimented her placement in the room. She wanted to tell her, "I was put here to dance. I was made by hands that knew who I was before I did." The feeling didn't make sense, the articulation was wrong but Eve knew with every fibre of herself that her legs had been chosen for her, crafted. She straightened slightly, feet sliding out into proper position almost without her consent. It was hard to decide if Evening had simply stood still and the room had been built around her or if she had entered it already built.

"Rooms like these are home," she said softly, no hint of a lie in her voice. Her home life had been difficult for a very long time. There was no where she could really be herself other than a practice room.

If Katelyn asked in here, she would answer. If Katelyn asked of her anything, she would make it so. Evening knew that. Admiration slipped from the soles of her feet into the hardwood. She'd never seen lips like those, not the way that they moved or formed words. Bottle-rockets bursting off into the sky, words spit out of Katelyn's mouth as easily as rain from clouds. she spoke with a frankness that would hurt most of society's ears but Evening found that she liked it. There was a safety in her honesty, no games.

No games.

Evening's gaze fell on the cameras in the corner of the room and the frankness slipped out of Katelyn's hands and found it's way into Evening's ear. Just say it.

"My publicists wanted me to have more screen time, Victors get views."

She could tell that Katelyn already knew this, that it wouldn't hurt her to hear it. Evening didn't say it to gain favour however, the honesty that dribbled from her lips just felt refreshing, good.

"But I had a choice. I didn't have to come."

I wanted to.

The instructor led them both to the center of the room and Evening stepped closer to Katelyn, her own boldness making the bells in her head ring. She felt giddy, breathless. As Katelyn showed off what she knew of dance and the expression on the instructor's face soured, Evening smiled and clapped in time to Katelyn's movements. She stepped forward, joining her at the last moment, trying to follow her footwork. It wasn't a difficult dance, fairly repetitive. It was fun, joyful. It suited Katelyn well.

Dance had always been something that Eve not only enjoyed doing but she loved watching it, loved seeing the way a body could move. It changed a person, how they looked to the world. A dancer didn't walk on the dirt the same way that a warrior did. Some would argue that a warrior performed their own dance but Eve knew it wasn't the same. Dance was not made to wound. It was made to heal.

She was glad for that.

The instructor positioned them carefully and Eve did not bother telling either that she knew the dance already. Katelyn's hands on her burnt through her clothing, making the flesh beneath hot. Her body shook for a moment, fear making her weak in the same familiar way that it always did now when a stranger touched her. her latest dance partner, Andre, had had to meet her many times before she'd felt comfortable enough to let him lift her.

Katelyn's hands were gentle, soft, strong.

All at once, like a storm.

Perhaps they were in the eye of it.

The instructor pushed Eve firmly but carefully up against Katelyn's chest, placing her hand on her shoulder. Instinctively, Eve lined her feet up with Katelyn's. The idea of the dance was to move in tandem perfectly. It had been used at official balls for years. The closeness was raw but wasn't wrong. Eve shivered once and then went still as the music began and they took their first step.

"I don't know anything about you, Katelyn," she confessed, "For everything I tell you, you must tell me something too?" The demand was against her character. Eve was well known for being easy to please, never asking for anything. Her reputation was as one of the least eccentric celebrities in Panem. She'd spent most of her life as a breathing doll, a puppet.

"When I was five years old, I had an imaginary friend named Daffodil. She was a purple turtle with wings," she said as they moved carefully, some would say painstakingly, across the floor. "I lost her on the way home from school once, she got caught in a gust of wind. I cried for days."

They skipped a beat in tandem, her heart and her feet. The soles of her shoes made a mess of the floor and Evening grinned. The beat grew ill with it and Eve gripped Katelyn's hand tighter, leading her for just a small moment back into time. It seemed endless and broken, time. The world decayed around them, wilting and breathing, an expulsion of poison. Here in the lights of the practice room with the steady drone of the instructor and a small fan in the corner, time was stood still.

She could tell her something different than anything the cameras knew about her. Evening leaned in closer as they moved quicker, feet finding their rhythm together, learning. A dance was a duet. There was safety in numbers.

"Katelyn I...."

she wanted to say something about it. she wanted to tell someone for the first time about being a child and having a man's hands all over her. She wanted to tell her about the cigarettes, the pills. She could say something about the constant hunger clawing at her insides until sometimes it was the only thing that she could think about it. The pain of denying a body a key ingredient for so long, how it felt to look in a mirror and only see skin tightly drawn over bone and wonder if she was dead yet. The feeling of hoping she would be soon.

Katelyn might understand it, at least a little.

Eve's eyes fell on the cameras behind Katelyn as they turned and she felt herself lose some of the confidence that she had gained in being in this room. Not in front of the cameras Eve. She could hear her mother's voice in her head clear as day.

There were no cameras at home but her mother and father were good at playing pretend.

Eve stared up at Katelyn carefully, holding her gaze for longer than she ever had before. I have more to say to you.

She lifted her hand lightly on Katelyn's shoulder, pressing it down firmly again almost right away as if she were just adjusting her grip. The movement was meant to be one of comfort, to give strength. Evening may have never watched a games before but hearing Katelyn's words helped her understand that for the first time in her life she may have met someone with just as much fear as she had.

"I've never had cherry pie," she said instead, "I can't imagine that salted cherries would taste good though." Her nose wrinkled at the thought of it and she laughed. "It's mean to laugh but I can't help thinking about the shock you must have been in when you took a bite."

The instructor added a more elaborate step and Evening took the change to think for a moment about the question that Katelyn had asked her. "My father is a reporter," she said, trusting Katelyn to turn them both carefully, "My mother is a Games technician." The news wasn't new to the audience behind the camera but Evening's cheeks darkened in embarrassment. She'd never thought much about what her parents did before but here, in the arms of a victor, their jobs became rather real.

"Vultures that thrive on the suffering of others."

Evening stopped in her tracks at the words that had come tumbling, smooth but unbidden. Her cheeks darkened further and she blinked rapidly, shock stalling her breaths.

"I...."

The hand of the victor gripping her shoulder should have been painful but Evening didn't think that it was meant to be. She looked up at Katelyn's face, the horror of what she had just said passing over her and settling, pulling back, a wave. Her mother would pat her head, tell her that the line was good for the cameras. Put on a show Eve, darling.

The music began again and the pressure on her shoulder lessened. They began to move, not quite as in step as they had just been. the light feeling of the afternoon's fun dissipating. A strange sort of misery settled on Evening and her smile faded. She wasn't certain what it was about herself but holding a conversation with anyone never seemed to go well. It often ended like this, muddled and disappointing.

Eve ducked her head, pretending that it was necessary to concentrate on her feet instead of Katelyn. She wondered when she'd stop messing things up between them. So far none of their conversations had gone according to plan. Eve squeezed Katelyn's hand gently as they worked, wondering if she would understand that she was sorry for ruining it.

They parted to change for the ball after a while longer and Evening smiled softly at Katelyn. Her eyes felt warm, she felt as if she was going to cry. Not for the first time, she understood that her own communication levels were less than adequate. Eve turned and walked steadily upstairs to change into the dress that had been picked out for her, wondering how much longer Katelyn was going to keep her around for. She could hardly be a candidate at this point.

Maybe she was just another ratings piece. That's what most of her appearances were. She wouldn't be surprised if the producers had forced her continued presence.

Eve stared at herself in the mirror as the makeup artists worked on her face. "Why does it matter," she asked, knowing there'd be no answer, "My face will be under a mask."

They dusted more on and Evening watched her freckles disappear beneath the layers.

A short time later she was walking towards Katelyn, mask gripped in her hand. Her black dress was open far down her back, her back bare but for her black curls tumbling down it. They'd put her in heels to try to get her anywhere near Katelyn's height advantage. She was already tired.

Katelyn standing in front of the door in a gown nearly as beautiful as she was made her stomach churn but not with nerves. It was something else. Something sharp and painfully obviously there.

"Katelyn, liste-"

She was pulled into a close hug, gentle and artfully done to allow Katelyn to speak to her without the cameras picking it up. Evening listened quietly, resting her hands on Katelyn's arms. She considered what Katelyn was offering her. She allowed herself to imagine what it might be like if she did win, what it would be like to bring a woman like Katelyn home. There would be no parents to show her too. The house was often empty.

Evening said nothing as she tied Katelyn's mask on for her. Hoping for anything had been wrong. What would Katelyn say to her if she knew that she was talking to a girl who had been ready to forfeit her life when she had fought so hard for her own. Evening knew nothing would ever happen between them. It was likely that Katelyn had been forced into the show anyway and that she already had someone that she loved.

Evening Placed her hand in Katelyn's and let her lead her into the ballroom. The centre of the floor was empty and the other participants stood waiting in expectation for the dance to begin. Some cheered when they saw Katelyn and Evening shut her eyes for a moment, letting the other girl lead her across the marble floor.

She liked this part, the moment of calm before things began.

They reached the centre and the music started. Evening pulled Katelyn close so that she would hear her speak. "I never had friends in school. I left as soon as the bell rang everyday for dance practice and I never went to parties because of recitals."

The story seemed irrelevant, Eve knew that.

"It doesn't scare me, the thought of you meeting them." Her grip tightened on Katelyn's hand and she relaxed, allowing Katelyn to be in complete control of the dance. She looked up at Katelyn through the eyes of the mask, wondering what she was thinking about. She wondered if the other girl was afraid to be here, as scared as Evening often felt just leaving her front door.

"That dance from before. I want to do it again with you."