Chapter Text
It is too goddamn cold for District 12.
It's been raining for a good day and a half now, and Lucy Gray is partially inclined to believe that this is some sort of wrath sent from the Heavens above. Some kinda warning, some holy sort of way of telling her to heed the dozen and a half warnings she's already gotten from about a dozen and a half people.
And unfortunately for them, and maybe unfortunately for her, Lucy Gray has never been all that afraid of much of anything at all. Nothing that she can see with her own two eyes, nothing that she can touch with her own two hands. She was taught from a very young age that fear was about as good as digging yourself into quicksand.
Why bother helping with your own demise? Might as well just settle in and let it bury you alive rather than helping it kill you. Might as well lay down and let it happen rather than turn yourself into something you've never been.
She doesn't quite know just when or how they missed the cabin — had to have overshot past the lake. Lucy Gray has always been good with directions—though maybe her track record’s taken a bit of a hit with this—but she had to’ve gotten turned around somewhere in the woods. Had to have gotten blinded by the rain and sent off north in some rudimentary kinda way.
Coriolanus’s compass has been reading north this whole time, so Lucy Gray figures that it's sort of just how it goes. There wasn't much in that cabin anyways; no food, half a bed with a torn blanket, some creaky old floorboards with a broken fishing rod or two under them. Not much in terms of keeping them alive for much longer than a minute or three.
Lucy Gray didn't make those fishing rods — that would've been her Momma and Pa, way back when. But she's real damn sure she could figure it out well enough, ‘cause it's just a stick and a bit of fine twine, and she's got plenty of that somewhere rattling around in her backpack.
Really, the only bad thing about missing the cabin has been getting to deal with Coryo’s half-baked attempts at throwing a temper tantrum over being wet for a few hours longer than he's used to.
Lucy Gray has been watching him. She's been watching him real close and real hard. Keeping an eye on him every single time she coincidentally happens to lag behind a bit. Blames it on her being shorter than him, and it's seemed to keep him at bay.
Lucy Gray is no liar, she's never liked lying, and she most certainly doesn't like lying to the boy she's supposed to trust with her whole damn chest. She does trust him, she does, Lucy Gray is positive of that. But she thinks that trusting Coryo and trusting Coriolanus Snow are two different things, and so she's treading as carefully as she can around him. Watching him. He's on edge and that's making her feel like she's on edge over more than she should be.
There's some sorta war going on in that boy’s head. There's gotta be. She's seen the strain in his eyes and the struggle in his words. Felt how skittish and nervous he is. Lucy Gray originally took it as nerves and some kinda pain after Sejanus’s death. Now, though, she's feeling like there's something else going on in his mind. Maybe guilt. But guilt always stems from somewhere, and Lucy Gray hasn't quite figured out where his is coming from.
Lucy Gray is not stupid. Sometimes she thinks that Coriolanus might think that she is, and she doesn't know how to feel about that, ‘cause she's pretty damn sure that she loves him in some kinda way. And having the person who she thinks she might love look at her as if she's a fucking fool is enough to make her blood boil. Maybe more than the fact that Coriolanus Snow is lying to her about something. Deliberately lying, at that. Specifically after they talked about trust. Specifically after she knows her words found their way into his head. He heard her the first time.
But she's managing. She's keeping an eye on him, watching Coriolanus and his every single little move. Lucy Gray is well aware that he's well aware of all of that, and she doesn't give even a partial damn about that. If Coriolanus Snow didn't want her to treat him like anything other than her lover, maybe he'd start acting better. Get his shit together and figure himself out.
Lucy Gray looks up at the sky, at the clouds. She feels the rain on her face, soaking into her dress that's already been soaked for days. She stands there for a moment with her eyes closed, and when she opens them again, Coryo's staring at her all owlishly, looking like a fool.
He doesn't look as irritated as he's been looking recently, and Lucy Gray thinks that maybe she's just a bit hopeful, but she's almost convinced that she can see the corners of his lips turning up. Just a bit. Just enough of a tug to get them going.
It's enough to make her think that maybe he loves her back, and maybe she really does actually love him after all. That maybe all of this is still worth it.
That maybe there's a good chunk of that boy that's worth trusting still.
That bit of trust is nearly stomped out of her in its entirety when Lucy Gray wakes up alone, with absolutely not the slightest trace of Coriolanus Snow to be found.
The sun's rising slowly, and for the first time in days, the rain’s stopped completely. Not even a drizzle. Lucy Gray almost thinks that it's real funny that the rain has stopped and Snow has disappeared, but not funny enough to get her to laugh.
Rather, Lucy Gray kicks off the dress she's been using as a blanket, pulling off the knife she keeps on her belt. Never used to even sleep with one under her pillow up until she left that godforsaken Arena.
Seems like everything's changing these days, she quietly thinks.
Lucy Gray is dead silent as she scans their makeshift camp. There's an awfully convenient pair of footprints leading down towards an overlook in the forest, and it makes her heart ache a bit. So he really does think that she's stupid. Stupid enough to follow those footsteps, follow him right down to the cliff, get herself...
“Lucy Gray?” Coriolanus’s voice is quiet, and Lucy Gray can't help the pounding in her ears at the sound of him. He's standing there shirtless, adjusting his belt as they stand there, his hands holding nothing, hers gripping a knife so tight that her knuckles are turning white. “Lucy Gray, are you—”
“Coriolanus Snow,” Lucy Gray starts, ignoring how her voice wavers in the break of dawn. It's light enough for her to see him well enough, it's dark enough for her to almost feel afraid. “I need you to stop lyin’ to me,” she whispers, squaring her shoulders as she looks at him. “You need to either quit lyin’ right to my face and quit actin’ like I’m dumb, or you need to leave.”
The words are quieter than she'd like them to be. Softer. She's got a fire burning in her chest and she's angry, but Lucy Gray can taste the flames die at the tip of her tongue. She's never been in love before, not even with Billy Taupe. She's pretty sure that this is it, or at least as close as it might get for her, because she's never had any problem with raising her voice and making herself known and heard. Not like this.
“I'm not—”
“I know you heard me right now,” Lucy Gray warns, narrowing her eyes at him. “Coriolanus. Stop treating me like I'm stupid,” she says, though it sounds more like a stupid plea to her ears. “I gave you your choices. Tell me the damn truth or go back to District 12 and figure it out there.”
Coriolanus looks at her with those stupidly big, owlish eyes, blinking as if this is the last thing he expected from her. Lucy Gray doesn't know when she gave him the allusion that she was anything other than dangerous. She killed two people in those Games, three if she counts sitting idly by and watching Coral die. She's got three people's blood on her hands, maybe more if she counts Jessup and Mayfair and Billy Taupe. And goddammit, she might not’ve gone up to them all and stabbed them or strangled them or did anything else, but Lucy Gray killed them. She killed them.
She doesn't think she'd ever be able to do it again. Much less to someone like Coriolanus.
But he should remember that she's dangerous, too. That he can't just pull this sort of shit on her and expect her to take it lying down. Lucy Gray is not going to stand for that. Not from him, not from anyone.
Coriolanus stares at her for a good while longer, long enough that Lucy Gray swears that she can feel her right hand going numb from how hard she's clutching her knife.
“Sejanus,” Coriolanus eventually says, his voice quiet. There's a sharp pang in Lucy Gray's chest that nearly has her wanting to double over, but she bears it, standing as stiff and as straight as ever. “I didn't think that they'd hang him,” he says after another long silence, looking up at her with huge eyes, pooling with unshed tears. “I figured...” he trails off. “I just didn't want him to get me killed.”
Lucy Gray doesn’t think that she believes him. Not fully, and maybe not at all. The tears in his eyes look real enough, but she’s still no fool — not even in the slightest. Just ‘cause she's never seen him perform doesn't mean that he's not a performer.
“So you got him hanged instead.”
“I didn't—” Coriolanus looks at her, almost looking like a kicked dog. “It wasn't what I thought was going to happen. I just wanted him the hell away from me and from District 12. His parents always bailed him out before. Lucy Gray, you have to...you have to believe me. Please,” Coryo says, all desperation. “Please, Lucy Gray.”
“I have to believe you?” Lucy Gray says back, making sure to carefully draw out the words real slow for him. Real slow so he understands exactly how stupid he's being right now. “You lied to me and you expect me to believe you?”
“I was scared, okay?” Coriolanus pleads, somehow looking almost pitiful. “It didn't go how it was supposed to. Look, I'm sorry that I lied to you. I didn't know...” he trails off. “Lucy Gray, I’m sorry . I don't want to be like that.”
Lucy Gray stares at him for a good, long while. Makes sure that he'll never forget the feeling of her burning holes through his head. “A liar?” She questions, loosening her grip on her knife. “Or a killer?”
“Both,” Coriolanus says, and Lucy Gray believes him this time. She believes that he's telling the truth about that. That doesn't mean he'll be free of the blood on his hands, that he won't sell all his pretty lies and carefully crafted bullshit. But Lucy Gray believes that he wants to be something else. She just doesn't know if he can manage it.
Maybe it's in their blood. Maybe they're predispositioned to it, like how some people are predispositioned to getting sick or hurt. Maybe the tastes of being a Victor is something they've both had for a hell of a long time. Maybe they were born as killers.
Lucy Gray has always been very certain that people are born good, that there's a good few choices someone’d have to make to cross over the line between good and everything else. But now, looking at him and looking back in the Arena that haunts her memories, Lucy Gray thinks that maybe sometimes, people are born with a likelihood of being a little too good at killing.
She figures it's part of Panem now. That there's bound to be at least twenty-four people with killer blood pumping through their hearts every year.
“Then don't be,” Lucy Gray says, simply. ‘Cause when it comes down to it, it is simple. “You think you can really do it?”
Coriolanus looks at her, looks at her, and solemnly dips his head. “I think I can,” he confirms. “For you, at least.”
Lucy Gray can't help but smile at him even despite herself, even despite the cold feeling of anger that's still smoking in her chest. She breathes out, letting that smoke flood the air rather than take up a space in her.
He's charming enough, she'll give him that. Could've been a pretty good performer in another life, maybe.
Lucy Gray doesn't say much to him after that at all, quietly whistling and packing up her things, all but pummeling her totally ruined dress-blanket into her backpack. Coryo works equally as quiet, shoving his own clothes in his backpack.
It's not much of anything other than a rocky revival to an otherwise incredibly landslide-ish start, but Lucy Gray is happy enough with it. It feels like something real, like something sort of hopeful, and she's holding onto it with both hands, keeping it carefully in the clutches of her palms.
She can make something out of this. Something good, she thinks.
Lucy Gray has never seen fields like these before.
They're huge — full of alfalfa that stretches way past her head, going right on upwards to the Heavens. She thinks it's sort of gorgeous, a silent testament to the abilities of all life to keep pushing for something bigger than it. Something far, far away.
Maybe she's just feeling pedantic and almost like a cliché, but Lucy Gray can't find it in herself to care all that much.
The cold anger and dead weight of suspicion in her chest has all but been released out into the air. She's not lurking silently behind Coriolanus, carefully watching his steps. The nearly dead silent voice in the very back of her mind has stopped producing unwanted suggestions on how to drive her knife right through his throat.
There are sunflowers here. Taller than the stalks of alfalfa and most certainly taller than her. Most of them are taller than Coryo, though there's a few shorter stragglers that reach up about to his neck.
“Where are we going?” Coriolanus asks, breaking the casual silence that they've been fostering between each other. Lucy Gray flashes him her best, most charming smile as she reaches up onto her toes to pluck a sunflower from its stalk.
“North.”
“You know what I meant.”
Lucy Gray smiles a little more, a real smile this time. She rests back down on the soles of her feet, slowly stalking towards him. Coryo doesn't have to be told or guided into tilting his head enough for Lucy Gray to hold the sunflower up to the side of his head.
“I don't know,” she eventually says, reaching out to grab both his shoulders, ‘cause she doesn't fully trust him for this part. Lucy Gray carefully messes with his dog tags until she slips them off the chain, playfully shifting them in her hands. “Wherever calls, I'd suppose. Somewhere that isn't here. Maybe find a boat or somethin’,” Lucy Gray continues, tilting her head to the side as she works. “Sail around ‘til we find somewhere that's nicer than all of this.”
Coryo hums, and she can see the way his throat moves as he does. “We should have a plan.”
“Well, darlin’,” Lucy Gray mutters, reaching up with one hand to twist his head off to the side for no reason other than she can. She's all too happy to plant her hand against his cheek and make him sit at an awkward angle just for being a little frustrating. “As soon as you can tell me what's out here, we'll head off that way.”
Coriolanus is quiet at that, and Lucy Gray smiles as she lets him go. She starts to work again with both hands, carefully weaving the sunflower onto the chain. It's messy work and it most certainly and absolutely will not hold if it rains again or if Coryo moves too much, but she's happy enough with it.
Maybe when they have more time she'll make him something prettier. Something that'll last for a hell of a lot longer than his impaled sunflower.
Lucy Gray backs off of him, giving Coryo a quick pat on the side of his face as his reward. She's still not kissing him, probably won't let him have that satisfaction for a good, long while. She doesn't let him touch her all that much unless she's the one doing it first. Lucy Gray’s fairly certain that he'll earn those privileges back at some point; he's already been doing a good enough job at repenting from what she's seen.
“Thank you,” Coryo says, so sincerely that it's damn near enough to make Lucy Gray feel like she's off kilter all of a sudden. “Much prettier than the tags.”
“Pretty flower for a pretty boy,” Lucy Gray slyly agrees, reaching up to cup Coryo's face for another moment. She can't help but stand there and look at him, wonder about how close they were to it being all over. She sighs, pulling away from him, walking up the hills that loom all around them. “C’mon. Still got a good eight hours of daylight to keep it moving.”
“I wasn't the one who stopped,” Coriolanus reminds her, and Lucy Gray can only laugh at that, turning back to face the man. He's fiddling with the sunflower, fingers moving rhythmically over one of the petals in particular. “Mind you.”
Lucy Gray laughs again, unable to stop herself from walking about five feet back, planting a soft kiss to his lefthand cheek. “Watch yourself, Coryo. I don't think I'm quite done being mad at you.”
She thinks that she is mostly done being mad at him, actually. Lucy Gray doesn't think that he's as trustworthy as he made himself seem, but she also thinks that he's making his way back to it.
Lucy Gray figures that that’s gotta count for something. There's a part of her that thinks that this might as well be the best she's gonna get from him. Both of them went into that Arena and both of them came out of it. Both of them have blood on their hands. Both of them have killed.
Lucy Gray thinks it makes just a little more sense than not that they're more inclined to lie. She's still one foot in that damn Arena, constantly looking over her shoulder, constantly getting her hackles raised at the sounds her mind plays tricks on her with. Doesn't take a genius to realise that it's probably about the same for Coriolanus.
They're closer to how they used to be, though. Feels a hell of a lot more normal than it did even an hour ago, so Lucy Gray is willing to believe that he's been genuine about the whole thing.
God, maybe there's a bit of foolishness in her, ‘cause she does not want to believe that Coryo is being anything other than genuine. Lucy Gray doesn't know quite what she'd do if she ended up being played as a fool by the man, but she doubts it'd be pretty for either one of them.
“I'll do my best,” Coryo assures her, his own coy sort of smile all over his stupid, endearing face. Lucy Gray is doing her damned best to not focus on his sweet looks in passing. She's trying to keep in mind the shit that he's done and said to her, and she's doing that, but it's a little difficult when he's looking at her like that.
She's gotta be in love.
Lucy Gray has to be. She'd never put up with some of the shit he pulled if she wasn't. There's this stupid little tug in her chest that pulls and pulls at her every time she looks at him. Every time she sees him looking back at her.
She sighs as she looks at him starting to walk, walking past her before he stops altogether. Turns back to look at her with something similar to concern all over his pretty face.
“Lucy Gray,” Coriolanus says, his eyebrows scrunched a little. “Are you okay?”
“Yeah, Coryo,” Lucy Gray smiles, feeling like this is all just some sort of good dream come true. Sort of feeling like everything is right where it's meant to be. “I'm doin’ just fine.”
Lucy Gray starts letting him sleep by her again.
It's her way of showing him that she trusts him again. Or, at the very very least, trusts him enough. She's trying her best to give him that second chance that she's almost positive he deserves.
His way of showing that he trusts her back is knowing that she's still sleeping with that knife on her belt. Coriolanus has done the smart thing and not said a single word about it, which Lucy Gray is appreciative of. She ain't mad no more—and sometimes it's hard to believe she ever even was—but she's not inclined to let him think that she's gonna let him get off easy.
But Coryo seems to be alright with that, and Lucy Gray is alright with him, and so they're doing pretty darn good for a pair of...whatever’s.
And, if Lucy Gray is being totally and completely honest with herself, she missed him. Missed being like this. Missed having him right against her every single night. He’s something sort of special to make her feel like that.
She never used to like sharing her space. Lucy Gray grew up with the Covey back when it was still overflowing with people. Sleeping in a big pile every night was pretty much her life up until the Peacekeepers found them. And as much as she did not like District 12 in the beginning, she couldn't find even a little part of her that wanted to complain about the actual bed that she got to sleep in rather than on her Pa’s back.
She misses those piles more often than not, though. Lucy Gray loved her newfound space and ability to sleep without a knee to the face, but she missed the closeness and comfort of it all.
Lucy Gray sorta figures that this is right about as close as she can get to having the best from both worlds, and she most definitely is not complaining about that.
“Lucy Gray,” Coryo’s voice is softer than she thinks she's ever heard it, though it's about as loud as him yelling given how his mouth’s right by her ear. “Are you still awake?”
She almost wants to laugh, ‘cause there's simply no damn way she could have ever slept through that. Lucy Gray rolls her eyes before she rolls the rest of herself over to face him, peering up at him. “Yessir, I am. Whatcha need from me, Coryo?”
Coriolanus smiles down at her, the sharpness in his features seemingly deflating into something softer. “Thank you,” he murmurs. “For this.”
“I think most people deserve a second chance,” Lucy Gray murmurs back, resting her hands against his chest. “Maybe you more than most.”
“Lucky me,” Coryo whispers, still smiling at her. “Teach me how to make snares like you do. I feel like an idiot just sitting there and doing nothing.”
“Aw,” Lucy Gray laughs, unable to stop herself from kissing his jaw. Maybe she is a fool. Maybe that’s not all that bad so long as she can trust him to not mess it up. “You do plenty enough. Killin’ flies is enough to make a girl fall even harder, didn't you know?”
Coryo snorts, looking almost embarrassed at that, which only makes Lucy Gray want to laugh even harder. She doesn't know what he's expecting her to expect of him. He's from the Capitol. They met with him in a bright red overcoat and perfect hair. Lucy Gray knows he's struggled, but there's a difference between Capitol struggling and District struggling. She doesn’t expect him to know the difference between twine and a spider’s web, let alone how to actually set up a working snare that catches animals rather than his own foot.
“Is that an actual Covey saying?” Coriolanus asks, sounding far too genuine. It’s endearing in a way that makes her sick. He’s so stupidly endearing and Lucy Gray wants to hate him for it sometimes. She doesn't think she could ever hate him. She doesn't think she's ever hated him. “Or did you make it up just now?”
“What do you think, gorgeous?” Lucy Gray asks, grinning up at him without even meaning to. She moves as close to him as she quite literally physically can. “Goodnight, Coriolanus.”
She grins with her head tucked against his chest at the quiet scoff Coriolanus lets out. She wraps her arms around him, though, which seems like it placates him well enough. She feels the tension in her body fizzle out as soon as he wraps his arms around her back, unable to stop herself from letting out a quiet sigh. All the muscles in her body seem to strain for a second before they even right back out, and it’s the most at peace she’s felt in days. The most at peace she’s felt with him in what feels like a lifetime.
“Goodnight, Lucy Gray.”
Lucy Gray smiles, and she can barely feel the weight of her knife on her belt.
“C’mon, Coryo,” Lucy Gray says, her hands planted firmly on her hips so she doesn’t just reach out and smack the man over the head. “You’re taller than I am. You and I both know darn well that you can reach that branch.”
Well, that’s the obvious conclusion to make from all of this. Now that she’s watching him, though, seeing Coriolanus struggle up on his tippy toes, desperately tryna get the snare hooked over the branch, Lucy Gray thinks that she might have been wrong, actually. He hasn’t noticed it yet, but he’s stepped right into the snare. Left foot right dead in the center of it. She can’t help but let her head loll off to the side, arching an eyebrow at him, feeling miserable as she watches him struggle harder and harder.
“I’m—” Coryo lets out an indigent huff of irritation, though Lucy Gray sort of thinks he should be feeling shame, given the predicament he’s somehow managed to get himself snagged in. “I’m trying, Lucy Gray.”
He sounds so defeated and nearly miserable that Lucy Gray almost feels bad for silently making fun of him in her head. She remembers all the times that she messed up with the snare, and though it definitely was not like this, she knows she didn’t start off perfect, either. Just kind of hard to not look at him like he’s a little ridiculous given just how he’s messed himself up.
Lucy Gray silently stalks over to him, touching his shoulder as she stands beside the man. “You did a good job makin’ it,” she offers, flashing him the most sincere smile she possibly can, ‘cause he did do a good job with that. Didn’t take him very long at all to actually figure out the little intricacies of the rope he was working with. “You just got it tangled here,” Lucy Gray continues, taking it out of his hands to point out his mistake, which also has him jumping up as his foot is incidentally tugged up. “Sorry.”
She can’t hide her smile at how unbelievably shocked he looks, his eyes huge. Coriolanus stares at her for a while before he has his own matching smile, his eyes narrowing at her. “I don’t think that’s true.”
“Ain’t a liar and never have been,” Lucy Gray happily informs him, reaching out to squeeze him on the shoulder as she very deliberately tosses the snare over the tree, which is enough to tug him off to the side. And also consequently off balance entirely, which has Coriolanus landing flat on his ass, one foot dangling in the air. Lucy Gray can only laugh at the shock on his face, parading over to stand over him. “Caught you.”
“I wasn’t going anywhere,” Coriolanus informs her, looking entirely unimpressed at his newfound predicament which is only partially Lucy Gray’s fault, if at all. “Am I allowed to get up now?”
Lucy Gray beams down brightly at him, crouching down right by his face. She reaches out, cupping his jaw, moving her thumb along the bone. “Depends on if you can get your foot outta the snare, gorgeous,” she happily informs him, standing back up at the scoff that gets her. “Well. I’ll let you figure that out while I set up the next one.”
“Lucy Gray,” Coriolanus’s voice is nearly pleading, and it takes everything in her power to not immediately start laughing at him. “Do you like to see me suffer?”
Lucy Gray laughs at that, rolling her eyes as she stalks off to the tree to get Coriolanus down. “Maybe a little,” Lucy Gray says as she scales the tree, which is all the warning she decides to give him before she sends him falling onto his back. He doesn’t fall very far at all, given how he was quite literally already on the ground — but he does fall back onto his back after doing the very hard job of propping himself up, which seems to have completely decimated any of his hopes.
“Maybe a lot,” Coryo disagrees, and Lucy Gray can't help but let out a sharp bark of laughter as she spots the man laying flat on the dirt, his arms sprawled out like he's some sorta dead bug. He looks so ridiculous that it's almost enough to make her forget everything that's ever happened between the two of them.
He's good at that, Lucy Gray’ll give him that. But she thinks that she won't actually forget — she's cautious like that. Always has been. But she also thinks that he's doing his damnedest to be better, and so she's trying to stop hanging everything over his head still.
“Maybe a little,” Lucy Gray corrects, repeating her previous words. She beams down at him from her spot in her tree, watching as the corners of his lips tug upwards. Barely noticeable if she wasn't looking, but she's always looking when it comes to him. “You need my help, gorgeous?”
Coriolanus scoffs, she can see it in the sudden puffing up of his chest. “I think your definition of help is very different than mine, Lucy Gray.”
Lucy Gray grins as she ducks her head, hopping off of her tree to stride over to him. She crouches down beside him all over again, touching his face softly. “That a bad thing, Coriolanus?”
Coriolanus stares up at her, and Lucy Gray is almost entirely convinced in that moment that he loves her just the same as she loves him.
“I suppose not,” Coriolanus says, wrapping his hand around her wrist and tugging her onto the ground alongside him. Lucy Gray laughs at his, quite frankly, weak attempt at revenge, but she'll give it to him that he was sneaky with it. “We should go.”
“You—” Lucy Gray snorts, wriggling her way out of his grasp. She's gracefully right back up on her feet before he can even prop himself up. Lucy Gray very helpfully pushes him back down with her boot on his chest, beaming down at the man. “All of this is a product of your own makin’, Coriolanus Snow. Figure it out.”
And then she's racing off towards the open fields just a while past them, laughing at the long and loud huff from Coriolanus that follows behind her. Lucy Gray stops at the edge of the treeline, casually leaning against an awfully pretty birch tree as she watches Coriolanus hoist himself up, grappling with the snare right ‘round his foot.
Lucy Gray can't help but smile, a stupid wave of fondness washing over her ‘til all she feels is endearment as she watches Coriolanus fight for his damn life.
She loves him. Lucy Gray knows that she has to love him — ‘cause how could she not? She loves him, and she thinks that she's never going to be able to get over that. Get over just how much she loves him.
Lucy Gray thinks that it might be one of the best feelings she's ever felt.