Synonymous // Cass & Rook

After lunch, Ky had disappeared quickly, and Opal had watched him go, frowning as his back had disappeared, the door closing softly behind him. It had been hard to read him, even after they had all looked at the television near the dining table in time to see Emmett land the final blow on Kestrel Volant. Opal had felt relieved, knowing that the odds had changed to a fifty-fifty chance of him at least escaping the catacombs. When she returned home tonight she hoped Ky would be there so she could prod him gently for some answers.

Katelyn had told her that Patricia was coming over for dinner and had then proceeded to invite Opal to stay. It had been a very long time since she had talked to the district five victor, their last meeting a drunken fight outside of the training center. Ten years had changed them both and Opal had seen and heard the rumours about what had been going on with her.

The newspapers in the Capitol hadn’t been kind to her and Opal’s heart ached with sympathy. Although, she knew that regardless of the circumstances Patricia probably wouldn’t respond well to Opal displaying it. So she’d keep that one locked up, for now, they both had a lot more on their plates to worry about. Afterall, Kenji was her mentee as Emmett was Opal’s, and with their final fight still going on the air was tense, uncertainty gnawing away at every action Opal did.

It appeared that both Katelyn and Opal had other things on their minds, and the two of them had worked in mixed silence and fleeting conversations as they’d moved to prepare dinner. Lost in thought, Opal had ended up slicing a finger with the knife she was using as she worked on the salad. It had only taken moments for Katelyn to appear beside her, face concerned as she’d made sure it was nothing too deep. Opal had watched, the pain from the cut a distance echo as her gaze had flickered once more to the television which was now turned off.

The tender kiss that Katelyn had placed on her hand after had made her melt, the stress of the day felt more bearable. She met Katelyn’s gaze with a tender smile of her own, appreciating the way in which Katelyn could look at her with such love and desire all in one moment.

The games being taken off the table as a topic for conversation was a wise decision and she could pretend to pretend that they weren’t the biggest thing on her mind. Maybe Katelyn would let her stay, they could watch the recap or she could go down to the screens and watch the fight right from where she had left it. It’d be better that way, she needed to see it, watch him die or come out victorious at the end. Hell, maybe she and Patricia would end up down there together. They’d have to bring the bottle of Merlot Katelyn had bought with them.

A few moments later the two of them were sitting on the couch, resting for a moment before Patricia arrived. Opal was sure some making out and attention from Katelyn would help, well, she at least hoped that it might ease some of the tension in her body. Only after a few kisses, there was a knock at the door and she was moving off Katelyn’s lap and straightening her shirt.

Conversation, she realised, as she stood slightly behind Katelyn by the door, was not her forte. Particularly, when the topic of the games was off the menu. Her entire life revolved around a frenzy of murder and death, and she often felt at a loss when she was faced with how to act outside of it. It was probably why she had stayed home most of the past ten years, avoiding other people, hiding away in her garden as she spent her days with Ky.

Opal nodded her greeting as Katelyn spoke, leading the way to the kitchen table like some assembly line. She hoped she could get through most of this evening without embarrassing herself too much.

“Good to see you,” Opal said, stumped, searching for something else to add. She sat down in her chair with a sigh, throwing Katelyn an apologetic look.

Patricia had always put Opal on edge, she reminded her of Emerald, ready to let loose a verbal lashing that left her bleeding. Her older sister had been known for her blunt words and even harder fist, and she had died with that same hatred in her heart. After Emerald, Pyrite had become her next nightmare, another berating sibling who felt that Opal didn’t belong in the family. She had meant every word she said when she had told Opal she wished she’d die. Her parents had stood by, instead of hitting her with the same cruel words, they had favored disinterest and neglect.

The district five victor had won only a few years after Opal, only a year after Potato had been killed, a year before Katelyn had won. Her games had been a blur to Opal, juggling her substance abuse with a newborn baby. Ky was only a few months old at that time and Opal had neglected to pay attention to the games, too focused on the chaos within her own life. It had felt like she was drowning, and even after Patricia had won she had still been breathing in the water, Nightshade a lift raft she had desperately clung onto. In all honesty, those six years were a blur, something she tried hard to bury further and further down, hoping that the pain wouldn’t rear its ugly head.

Opal had only heard whispers at that point in Patricia’s sharp tongue and blunt attitude. The few glimpses Opal had caught of her had been through blurry-eyed stares. The two times she had run into Patricia had ended in anger fuelled clashes of bitter words. Patricia had a chip on her shoulder, to Opal, she had been the same as every other evil in her life, creating an image of what they expected her to be. It had been evident in the anger and hate that laced her words, even when they had been drunk and Opal had tried to simply reach out and help her. The sting of that argument was still felt years later.

The same hard glint in Patricia’s eyes had always left a little fear gnawing at her heart, uncertain if she was going to be exposed to another whipping. Opal had tried to like her, tried to empathize, and choose to believe that there was something else beneath all those rough edges. At that point in her life, believing in others had been too difficult and she had simply given up on trying. Here they were, an eternity later, molded and shaped by the nightmares that controlled them.

Katelyn Persimmon had been the first light in her life that had allowed her to begin to heal again, she had been a gentle caress against her battered and bleeding heart. A hand that had guided her towards a light that she had forgotten existed. Even now, as Opal and Patricia sat dejected, polar opposites, two different sides of the same blade, Katelyn brought them together. The woman had a way if words, like her very soul was bared before her and pushed into every choice she made. Opal found herself staring, wine glass delicately balanced in her hand as she watched her girlfriend talk.

“Who else are we supposed to relate to?”

There wasn’t anyone, not really. The reality of where she was at sunk in more and more deeply with each passing day. It was no wonder Sardonyx was pointing out the greys in her hair, or why, when she looked in the mirror she felt as though she had aged ten years. Her gaze turned to the liquid in the cup, watching as it gently rippled with the tremble in her hand. Part of her felt empty, like the hole in her heart was only deepening. She was scrambling to grasp the problems before her, never having a solution, drowning under the weight.

“Do you think it was worth it?” she asked, words soft, “winning?” She placed the glass down, drawing her hand onto her lap.