aphroditecirrelo:
The party was too loud and too bright for Aphrodite’s tired eyes. She had spent the past seven hours being preened and gawked at by all manner of Capitol citizens, as was always the case when they ventured into the Capitol, and her patience was beginning to wear thin.
Luckily, Cosima was the life of the party in moments such as these, able to find commonalities with these people in a way Aphrodite never could. It made it easy for Aphrodite to divert attention away from herself so that she could slink off relatively unnoticed by anyone except Cosima, who was more than happy to accommodate for Aphrodite‘s absence.
She used this to her advantage whenever possible, familiar enough with the President’s Mansion at this point to know the best route to take to avoid the worst of the crowds. With people as drunk as they were, it was easy enough for Aphrodite to slip past them before they realised who she was, heading for the doors without paying much attention to the world around her.
But her escape route was intercepted by someone attempting to pass her and almost colliding with her in the process. Aphrodite’s hand automatically came to the woman’s arm, resting there for a moment to make sure she was steady on her feet before Aphrodite caught a glimpse of her face and realised who it was.
She had been hoping she would be able to avoid the newly elected President and her wife.
She let her hand drop and took a polite step back before she spoke, their eyes meeting for a brief moment before Aphrodite looked down, pretending to be very interested in her own nails.
“No, it was my fault.” She said, shaking her head and letting out a nervous laugh. “I wasn’t looking where I was going.”
She glanced in the direction she had come from, wondering if she could excuse herself under the guise of not wanting to leave Cosima alone for too long, but decided it would probably be worth humouring the new First Lady, especially given who her wife was.
“I haven’t had the chance to congratulate you yet.” She said quickly, making an effort to meet Ariadne’s gaze. “It must be pretty exciting.”
Truth be told, she’d spent far too many hours in places such as this. She knew all of the unspoken rules, the ones that governed each and every person’s words and actions. Smile. Nod. Wave. Crack a joke as to entertain – but not be too developed as to say anything of substance. Look pretty. Toss her hair. And then, smile some more. It was a routine that had grown stale since the days of her youth. Never challenged, never bothered was Ariadne Gaul. Even so, she still admired the air. The liveliness that seemed to course throughout each person, like vesicles carrying lifeblood to the heart of the party. So many parties, so many words, so little said.
Perhaps tonight would be different.
It was this particular breed of extravagant monotony that drove Aria away from her table and out towards the night. And then, inertia collided with inertia. The briefest of contact was made followed by a laugh that was foreign yet somewhat musical all the same. The being known as Aphrodite was not wholly unfamiliar to Aria, but novel enough that she found herself immediately correcting her posture and standing at attention like the soldier of poise and etiquette that she was.
“Please, Mrs. Cirrelo,” Aria shook her head congenially. “That was entirely my fault. I think I might actually have two left feet.”
She took a moment to slide her hands down the uppermost contours of her skirt, glad that her misstep didn’t end more disastrously for the cleanliness of her dress. Aria then gave a quick scan of the area, finding herself glad that, for once, nobody else’s eyes seemed to be on her.
“Thank you! It’s certainly been a bit of an…” A brief pause, Aria’s mind attempting to find the correct words. “Uphill battle, to say the least. We’re all so very proud of Helena. Although, I don’t think I’ll ever quite get used to saying ‘President Gaul.’”
Aria grinned politely as she tucked her hair behind her ear. This short exchange had, thus far, been the longest she’d spoken to Aphrodite. She had watched her Games with eager eyes. Spellbound by the story woven by Aphrodite and Cosima, simultaneously a bundle of nerves as it was her then-girlfriend’s first year in the Gamemaker Room. It wasn’t until this moment that Aria had fully comprehended the implications of such a circumstance.
“I hope Cosima and the children are doing well,” she spoke as she imperceptibly shifted her weight on her feet. Tonight’s shoes were particularly unbearable. “Are they here tonight?”
