I would rather be trapped with anyone but you {inga/lionel}

[lionel estrada d5 ᥫ᭡ kiah]

There was something about Inga Vanas that struck an unsettling cord of familiarity. In many ways when I found myself silently observing the career in the distance I felt like I was look at myself through a filthy broken mirror. Maybe it had something to do with the way she seemed to put 110% into everything that she did, in a way that suggested that failing wasn't an option. I hated it. I hated it because I knew exactly what it felt like, only in my case, it never mattered just how hard I tried, I would never be enough in my fathers eyes, and I would never outshine Wren in my mothers.

Watching her now I tried to shake off the feelings of familiarity, forcing myself to approach her casually as I picked up a staff from the nearby station. Since arriving at the Capitol I had made it a mission to shred the carefully constructed boy who had been so fucking eager to make his father proud, determined to embrace this new found freedom, to embrace the way it seemed to settle uneasily around me even as it encouraged me to step in deeper. To allow it to seep into my skin, my muscles, my soul. To whispered devious words in my ears, words that sounded a lot like the ones Wren might have said if things had been different between us.

Get that stick from so far up your ass and let go, it seemed to whisper.

So I did.

Damning the rules I stepped in front of the girl from four, smiling broadly at her. "You know, you look like you are wound up so light that its almost painful," I remark, studying her carefully. "Wanna have some fun?" I ask her as I subtly pull out the vape Wren had given me on his departure from the justice building. I had almost thrown it in the bin after he left, surprising myself greatly when instead I had tucked it into my pocket. "Do you like lemon drops?" Using my chin I gesture towards a small storage room in the corner of the training room before moving towards it.

[calla]

I N G A

She keeps glancing over at him, increasingly annoyed at the staring.

It's different when someone is watching. It's different when the look is interested, or admirable, hostile even. It's different when she feels like she's proving herself. They way the boy from Five, stares - that dead-eyed kind of glaze - just make Inga want to roll her eyes.

Pubescent boys.

And it's so great. It's just fantastic. Her little death glare doesn't seem to work, and he starts to wander closer. She tries to ignore his approach. Flexes her fists.

He sort of meanders his way through the room. Inga focuses on the movement of her elbow through an upper-cut.

"You know-" Lionel starts, smiling in the corner of her eye.

The dummy's jaw cracks from her swing.

"I think that's one of the worst lines I've ever heard."

But he's asking. And Inga is looking at him confused, half because she doesn't recognize what he's holding and half because she's never the one that's asked. That's Lieke's role. She's the fun one, the pretty one, the one everyone wants to hang out with. Inga was always just the little thing that Lieke ended up dragging along with her. Nobody ever actually wanted a double date, but no one could ever say no to Lieke.

Now, Inga's chin tilts up a bit. Her shoulders straighten. Lionel is walking, expecting her to follow.

Inga moves before she can second guess it, trying not to feel like a kid at their first party, shutting the door, crossing her arms, tone flat - "Well?"

ELEGANT