Achilles Held, District 1 (oneachilles) wrote in colosseum, @ 2014-01-25 17:06:00 |
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Entry tags: | ! 56th games, - capitol, victor: 34th achilles held, x-victor: 32nd olympia zaveri |
Who: Achilles & Olympia
When: Night 4
Where: Capitol party, on the street, training center elevator, D1 quarters.
What: Achilles throws knives at Olympia and then .......
Rating: Medium for fade to black.
Status: Complete
Note: So ... some of this was visible and in public places and such. Just sayin'.
Even though Achilles was very, very good at what he did, having Olympia as his model for this event (a child's christening -- yes, even a christening gets knife-throwing entertainment) made him a tiny bit anxious. Just a tiny bit. It wasn't as though he was going to make a mistake. He'd been doing this for ten years or so by now, and he never made mistakes. The event had gone well. Olympia, as stunning as ever, up against the wall with Achilles in the middle of the room, his marble knife set spread out in front of him. He threw each one with a calculated flourish, smirking for the crowd and racing his hands through his hair. Years of doing this taught him what worked and what didn't. And having Olympia with him? The party-goers ate it up. Each knife hit its mark, inches from her pristine skin and the blood red of her dress. One, in fact, hit the gauzy part of her skirt, tacking it to the wall. He'd done that on purpose, and he hoped she didn't mind a small slivered rip in the gown. When he was done, Olympia was perfectly outlined in his throwing knives, no part of her (save the gauze of her dress) marred or touched. Once it was over, he looked at her a moment too long (too noticeable) amid the applause, his eyes meeting hers, before he went to pull the knives out. The rest of the party-goers had gone about their business, Achilles' show complete. He started with the one by her left ear. "You look good surrounded by knives," he murmured. Olympia had mostly been a spectator to Achilles’ knife throwing, or had only heard about it. Most of the time, it wasn’t the knives that she paid attention to so much as the thrower. From a purely superficial standpoint? He looked gorgeous doing it. From the standpoint of someone who’d been trained with weaponry, his form was more than good. And just from her personal standpoint, it was fun to watch the first few times. After that her attention wandered from the spectacle to Achilles face or just the crowd around him. But it was very different, being the target. The crowd wasn’t a factor-- she was used to be watched, cheered for. No, the biggest difference was having to stand still and keep her eyes on Achilles for every throw. The concentration on his face was more than appealing to her and the cocky smirk on his face only made Olympia grin wider, stand up just a little straighter. Every sink of the knife near her she counted, and not even the one that sank into her dress made her slip down. Not that it didn’t surprise her-- her eyebrows had raised on that hit. But it was playful and fun, and it was just a dress. Being at the christening and being with Achilles was worth more than a dress. As soon as the party goers started to go about their business, she didn’t move, waiting for him to come towards her. Only her head moved, and thank goodness she’d actually had the sense to wear heels to be able to look up at him the way she wanted. “Only by knives?” She smiled up at him. “I don’t think you can make this a habit unless I get to see you the same.” Achilles took each knife out and returned them to his set, glancing at her. "Up against a wall or shadowed by knives, because I'm sorry, but I don't trust you to throw them without hitting him." The corner of his mouth quirked up a bit. He bent down for the knives at her hip, thigh, knee. When his fingers brushed against her upper leg, he didn't act like it was either an accident or on purpose, but he grinned as he straightened again. "We're done here, and I'm not interested in a drink or small talk." He closed up his knife set and held out a hand for Olympia. "Want to get out of here?" Achilles made a quick glancing sweep around the room, but no one was paying attention to them anymore. A laugh left her lips-- well, he wasn’t wrong, really. She didn’t have that sort of aim, never tried for it. Her laugh got a little quieter once he reached down for the knife and his fingers brushed her upper leg. Her body relaxed a little at it, but she didn’t miss what it meant, with those looks. And for a moment, there was the thought that she should probably not let anything more come of it than just a look and a touch. That thought lasted right up until the grin on his face and the hand he held out for her. “I don’t need anymore drinks than I can get at the training center,” she took his hand firmly, interlocking her fingers with his as best she could, leaning closer. “You up for going back there or someone else? I’m tired of having lobster shoved in my face every night.” Achilles tugged her closer to him and made for the door. They weren't far from the training center, and that seemed like the best idea out of any. "If I never see another lobster as long as I live, I'll be fine. The training center," he added. They walked quietly back, thankfully not stopped by anyone along the way. It was late enough that the city was only buzzing quietly, instead of buzzing loudly. When they got to the center, they checked in and waited for an elevator. "Thanks for volunteering to be my knives model tonight. You look beautiful." Olympia allowed him to pull her closer, her laugh echoing as they walked out. “I’m with you there. I can’t wait until it goes out of style.” The whole way back, she kept their hands intertwined, and looked less at the city and more at Achilles. She wasn’t a fool and she knew what those touches, those looks meant. And that it could possibly lead up to nothing, or more, and that at the end of the day, he still had a family back in District One. But that didn’t matter so much, not as much as the possibility that it would happen and the fact that she wanted him, wanted whatever she could have of him, and that she could just be with him. His words eased her out of it and she glanced up at him, and well. Probably, she should have said thank you. Instead, she opted to kiss his cheek, soft and much closer to his mouth than what would be considered friendly. “I was happy to be there.” It was true that they didn't spend nearly enough time together back in One, ironic because how close together they lived. Still, it was Games time that gave them time, less when they didn't mentor together, but still more. At her kiss, he turned, his eyes dark, and looked at her for longer than necessary. Then the elevator doors opened and they stepped in, he let Olympia go first. His fingers pressed the small of her back as he walked in behind her. The doors shut behind them. It started the other night, when she talked him down from his rage. It grew stronger that night, watching her so intently as he threw knives at her. The feelings, the desire, were there, always under the surface, but he didn't act. That is until now. Something this year was different. He couldn't explain it. Their ride was short, too short, but between the time it took the doors to shut on the lobby and open on One, Achilles had pressed Olympia hard against the wall to swoop down and kiss her, his hands on the wall framing her face the way his knives had an hour before. There wasn’t anything to be said after that, was there? The look he gave her, the press of his fingers against her back were enough. She stepped into the elevator, but she didn’t feel nervous-- just waiting, just hopeful and wanting. Waiting, too-- Olympia was patient, could wait and wait, but if this was going to go further, she wanted Achilles to do it, to make that move. And the waiting was over, his eyes dark and focused on her. Her back hit the wall, but her faced moved up to meet him, hands sinking into his hair, kissing him, falling into it. It was different than it had been years before, and it was better. Bittersweet in a way, but better, arm looping around his neck with the kiss. It was over too soon because when the doors whooshed open on their floor, Achilles pulled himself away from her. He held her gaze for a moment before giving a jerk of his head in the direction of out. He let her go first, again, falling into step beside her and brushing their shoulders and the side of his hand against hers just barely. His room was first down a hallway, and he nudged open the door and motioned for her to go in first. "Olympia," he said, quietly, then reached for her. The sound of the doors opening didn’t even register-- just Achilles pulling away. It didn’t prevent her from keeping her mouth hovering over his when her eyes opened. Her mouth curved into a small smile, but she trailed out before him, purposely bumping her fingertips against his, the touch electric to her. She should maybe ask if he was sure, if they should go through with this, completely. But instead, she takes his hand again, and presses another kiss to his mouth. Let’s it linger before she steps inside, and lets the door shut behind them. |