#( you saw the ideal me & yes that’s the real me / lucy gray x coriolanus )

[musingmemories]

[ 𝐏𝐑𝐎𝐌𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐃 𝐀𝐒𝐊 - 𝐀𝐂𝐂𝐄𝐏𝐓𝐈𝐍𝐆 ] @snowalwayslandsontop sent: ❝ who are you? ❞ from Coriolanus to Lucy Gray.

Words. Lucy Gray had mastered the art of stringing them together through melody, used them for storytelling, and expressing herself. Somehow bringing out glimpses of the deepest, most raw and vulnerable parts of her were easiest to convey in the form of song— as though through it all of her feelings made the most sense, vocalized emotion backing the sheer sincerity of it word for word, a rollercoaster of emotion in its ups and downs, crescendos and fortes. Coriolanus had a way of making her feel everything all at once— rushed her emotions to the very tip of her tongue crashing them together and making both her brain and body become electrified.

But oh how these violent delights have violent ends. Ill-fated lovers. Star-crossed, one might say, the start of their story doomed to end even before it began. A tribute. A mentor. The Hunger Games... and the aftermath that followed. As though fate were giving her a do-over, Coriolanus had found her again… and she wasn’t quite sure what his game was by murmuring the words that shocked her to the core.

‘Who. Are. You?’

It was in the way those crystal-colored eyes of his searched her features— clear and brilliant as the sky, so vibrant and full of light. Like the day she’d met him. Was it possible, truly possible, he’d forgotten all that had transpired between them? Oh she hated how the radiance of hope burned in her chest with the thought.

Perfectly masked behind a coy smile, ever the performer, Lucy Gray dared dance along the new unknown. “Hm… now there’s a question that could have a million answers, sweetheart. I daresay you’ve got me stumped puttin’ me on the spot~” The breeziness of her twang was a melodious hum that conveyed the thoughtfulness brought on by Coriolanus’ question. She’d had many during her lifetime, most recently of late victor and rebel.

And now with a clean slate… exactly what this opportunity had given her it begged the question: dare she squander it? “An artist, a singer, a dreamer to name a few.” Or she used to be the latter… not so much anymore. The stars had stopped listening to her wishes. “But you can call me Lucy Gray.”