Monday May 2nd 2016 – The Capitol

I groan, being dragged from sleep by the annoyingly cheery ringtone on my phone. I flip over, splaying out in the bed and startle slightly when my arm meets a warm object. Last night's wine and loneliness come rushing back to me as I take in the red hair and muscled chest of Darius. Right. Well, that's that. The clock reads 6:30am. I have an hour and a half until work. I roll out of bed, shut off the phone and throw it onto my side of the bed. I slip my running gear on in under a minute, tying my hair messily into a ponytail. I'm out the door and down the stairs before he's fully woken. It doesn't matter, he knows the routine. My feet slap the pavement to the beat of my iPod as I watch dawn turn to daylight. I take the usual route which I've managed to perfect in my two months of living in the Capitol. I run down my street and dodge the early bird cars to cross the road, thankful no one has run me over as of yet. I run through the park and cross the river flying past the empty strip shops that'll open in a few hours, passing fellow joggers and people walking their dogs. I make a loop, heading back over the bridge, down Elizabeth St and back home. The 3 miles take me 20 minutes. Good enough. I take a second to catch my breath on the street before I jog back up the stairs and burst back into the apartment.

"Prim!" I call, rapping three times on her door. She has the kind shift this week at the hospital, starting at 9.

I grab a water bottle and fill it at the tap before gulping it down. Next I move to the freezer and take out the pack of frozen fruit I've already sliced and measured out. I throw it into the blender and add milk, oats and an egg.

I feel the floorboards vibrate behind me. I pull out my earbuds as Darius' mouth moves. He's fully dressed, though he looks a little sleepy and some of his hair sticks out at an odd angle. It's cute.

"Thanks for last night," I think he says. He kisses me once and like always says to call him if I want to meet up again.

"Of course." I tell him and then he's gone.

I run a quick shower, though not at my usual scolding temperature. I hear Prim emerge from her bedroom as I'm slipping into my black business dress. I make my hair presentable and slap on some makeup, which has never really my style, but it helps with the whole corporate lawyer aura that I'm trying to pull off. That, and I can hide the marks of fatigue more easily.

I pad out to the kitchen in search of my smoothie and nearly have a heart attack when I find a man at the island counter.

"Hey, Katniss." Rory Hawthorne greets me as he reads the paper with a coffee in his hand.

"Uh, hey Rory." I greet him quickly, grabbing the drink from the blender. "I didn't know you were here."

He doesn't actually live in the Capitol; he and Prim have been doing it long-distance for a while now. Though anytime he appeared was always a little surreal considering I still pictured him as a 13 year old in my head.

"Flew in last night." He grins easily.

"How long are you staying for?"

"Two weeks." He says. "By the way, Gale says hi."

I roll my eyes, smiling slightly. Prim enters the room then and Rory slides a mug her way. "Is this yours Rory?" I look up and see a men's watch in her palm.

Rory frown and shakes his head. Then suddenly her gaze settles on me, a smile slowly spreading on her face.

Damn. I hadn't yet told her about Darius and considering she spent the last week or two on night shift it wasn't that hard to keep it from her. I don't really know why I feel uncomfortable with her knowing about my sexual escapades but I do.

"Give it here." I stretch out my arm but she doesn't hand it to me straight away.

"Who's is it?"

I roll my eyes. "Just some guy I met." I tell her, dismissively. I peer over her head and spy the time blinking on the oven door. "Shit, I need to go." I snatch the watch from her grasp and hear her laughing as I rush around the apartment, finding my bag and then my shoes. I sigh, hesitating briefly as I look at the black heels positioned neatly by the door. They really were the bane of my existence. But like the makeup, I put them on.

"I want to hear about this guy when you get home!" Prim calls out as I unlock the door.

"Yeah, yeah." I call back and then I'm heading down the stairs as fast as the stilettos will take me.

The street is busier than an hour ago though still not as bad as it will be within the next hour. I move within the hustle and bustle working my way toward the heart of the CBD where the United building is situated. I peek at my phone quickly, seeing a few texts from Jo and a multitude of emails. I flip it back into my bag before I plough into anyone on the street. I hurry past other workers, overly eager tourists and the occasional homeless person until United looms in my vision.

I stop for a split second in front of the building. Take a breath. Then with much more poise than what I left my apartment with, I enter the building.

The elevator is full and seems to move at an agonizingly slow pace, stopping at every level. I tap my foot impatiently. Eventually I reach my level, enter the office, and throw myself down at the desk that's still covered in paperwork. Before I can check my watch a mug appears in front of me.

"Right on time." Leevy smiles knowingly. "Let's get started."

000

Coffee is the life force of our office. Just by the sheer amount consumed by this office alone, we could probably sustain an entire African community. Not a bad idea for a new project if you ask me. We had our own pod machine in the corner of the office – which was fine by me – but once we started pulling long hours most of the office demanded we get our coffee from Bristel's. It wasn't even the closest coffee shop to the building but everyone said it had the best coffee. Which I guess is true. She has multiple blends, including single origins as well as cold drip coffee. It was a little excessive, which is ironic considering we worked to aid communities that are below the poverty line, but it kept our momentum going. I lost count of how many hours of overtime I'd pulled in the few short months of being in the Capitol but it probably equated to gallons of coffee. Working for United in State 11 was much more sedate than in the Capitol, though I'd come here for the opportunity, not for sleep.

Currently, I sit at my desk filling in legal paper work, waiting for the moment 11 o'clock rolls around so I can Skype with a project manager in Dharamsala. My days were spent doing either paperwork, aiding overseas project managers or trying to quell any legal complaints that came about. It wasn't as exciting as say, being admitted in the Supreme Court, but it was good work.

Leevy sits at the desk next to mine and although there are other legal staff, she was the one to integrate me into the new office. She's a good co-worker, maybe a little more outgoing than what I'm used to, but we work well together; simultaneously working on tasks while keeping the other caffeinated.

I jump when something flies onto my desk. Dragging my eyes from the ball of paper, I meet Leevy's expectant gaze.

"What are you wearing to the Benefit?" She leans her elbows on her desk, resting her head in her palm as she tilts her head in my direction.

I sigh. The Benefit was a trademark of United. It was a yearly fundraiser where basically a bunch of rich people got together, drank, bid on outrageous auction items and listened to our advertisements. Not every employee had to go, rather a couple were nominated from each department. Me, being the new person, drew the short straw and was required to attend.

I shrug at Leevy. "I don't know. It's in a month." I don't think I'd ever planned an outfit more than a day in advance.

I think she's a little put out with my lack of enthusiasm but she continues talking. "Well, what do you think of these?" Her fingers tap quickly on her phone and then she's walking over, extending the phone toward me. I grow uncomfortable, looking at the two evening gowns. This area of girl talk has never been my forte.

Thankfully, I'm saved from critically analysing the dresses by the sound of an incoming Skype call. Quickly plugging my headphones into my computer, I tell her, "The first one." She seems thoughtful as she returns to her desk and I get ready to advise our project manager in India.

000

Luck is on my side today, because like last week, I get to leave at 5pm. As I'm packing up my bag, ready to head home, my fingers brush against the cool metal of Darius' watch. Damn it. I should probably return it, I think. I had no idea when I'd be seeing him again and it was a fairly nice watch so I assume he'd be missing it.

A quick google search tells me the Victor's Village apartment complex is not too far from United. In fact, it's virtually next to Bristel's, something I clearly hadn't realized. I was taking a punt that Darius was working but I figured the exercise couldn't hurt anyway. Taking advantage of the early knock off time, I make my way towards the swanky apartment complex, despite the protest of my feet.

I'm slightly confused when I reach the electric, glass doors at the front of the building. People enter and exit freely, both plain clothed and in business dress. I don't see any sign of Darius so I enter the lobby. I stand still, no doubt annoying those behind me, and scan the large room. I see a sign and desk labelled as The Skydeck and suddenly the presence of tourists make a little more sense. I wander the lobby slowly until my eyes finally settle on the side of a building where a smaller door is situated with Darius standing by it. Bingo.

I go to make a move towards him when I see he's not alone. He's talking to a man and woman standing with their hands intertwined, facing away from me. They're both dressed casually, the woman slightly shorter than the man, both with blonde hair. Even from the back I recognise them straight away. Peeta Mellark and Madge Undersee.

I watch on as they have a quick, animated conversation and Peeta says something that makes them all laugh. Then, rather than walking outside like I expect, they bid Darius goodbye and head towards an elevator, where Peeta swipes a key card and the doors immediately open.

Huh.

I exchange the watch with Darius as quick as I possibly can, which isn't that hard since he's working and can't chat for long. I'm back outside on the busy footpath in a matter of minutes. But rather than concentrating on the sea of people, my mind is swarming with thoughts of Peeta.

In the 6 weeks since the funeral this is only the second time I've seen him. And luckily this time I didn't need to sacrifice a coffee to do so. If it wasn't for the fact I got to see Prim every day and my job was better, I might've regretted moving to the Capitol. Finnick was deluded in his thoughts of me and Peeta. Peeta and Madge Undersee are no doubt a perfect match, and while I'm happy for Peeta, it doesn't mean it's easy to watch.

The Capitol is a big city. You'd think we'd both be able to coexist without seeing each other. But somehow, unknowingly, I've still managed to intertwine my life of his. Because of course I would be working for United; the company going to be inherited by his fiancé. Of course my work partner would be her childhood best friend. And of course he would live in the swankiest apartment complex in the Capitol where I would be sleeping with his doorman. My life is a joke.

Needless to say, I'm not in a particularly sunny mood by the time I make it into my own apartment. I don't have a fancy residential elevator; I have stairs. When I open the door, however, my senses are assaulted by the sweet aroma of spices.

"Oh, good you're home!" Prim pokes her head around the doorway and I feel some of my frustration melt away.

"Did you make dinner?" I slip my shoes off, my feet rejoicing, and line them by the door.

"Rory did."

When I get closer to the kitchen I see Rory hunched over a pan, an apron tied around his waist. I bite my lip, trying not to laugh, noting how he looks like a mini Gale.

"What ya got there?" I ask, peering into the pot as I pull out a wine glass and bottle of sauvignon blanc.

"Butter chicken." He grins. "Made it from scratch."

My mouth starts salivating. "You should come over more often Rory."

He laughs and turns his attention back to the pan, taking a large serving spoon and spooning even amount of rice and curry into three bowls.

Now, much like coffee at the office, I'm not saying butter chicken fixes all my problems but it sure does make them better. I'm honestly surprised at the younger Hawthorne brother's cooking ability; While Gale could hunt for food he had no hope in cooking it.

I watch Rory as he tells a story of a woman on the subway with a live chicken, his hands waving enthusiastically before him. While he's a dead ringer for his older brother, he's also nothing like him. Gale is extremely driven, always aiming for the highest mark, which is partly a result of his family environment, considering he'd be the first to inherit Hawthorne Industries. Rory takes on a much more relaxed attitude and shows no interest, unlike his younger brother Vick, to work within the company. He is motivated in a much quieter way than Gale, currently pursuing his Master's degree in Writing and Literature back in 12. I have no doubt that one day he'll be just as successful as Gale. He is a good match for Prim, despite the fuss I caused about it when she was only 19. But now at 22 I can see maturity, love and reciprocity within their relationship. I watch them, maybe, a little longingly, until Prim turns to me with a glint in her eye.

"So who's the guy?"

I roll my eyes, particularly as I see Rory's uncharacteristically enthusiastic about this question as well. I think back to Victor's Village where I'd returned that damned watch to him.

"I don't know." I groan. "I just met him at Bristel's a few weeks ago."

"Is that the coffee shop that everyone is always raving about?"

"That's the one."

"How long have you been dating?"

I nearly choke on my wine. "We're not dating. We're just…"

"Sleeping together?" Rory supplies.

I groan. "Yes. Does it matter?"

"No," Prim shakes her head, catching Rory's eye. "We were…just discussing how it would be good for you, you know, if you started dating again."

After practically raising Prim, having our roles reversed is something I am definitely not used to. "I'm not going to date him."

"Why not? You haven't dated anyone in 3 years!"

"And that is not your concern." I tell her. My tone ends the conversation. To my relief, they both let it go and move onto safer topics of conversation.

I have the suspicion, however, that if I wanted to, I could date Darius. We never exclusively set any boundaries. In fact, the first time I met him he actually asked me on a date. But somewhere in that first date we stumbled into fuck buddy territory. And if I am being honest, I didn't mind that at all. I am more comfortable in the no strings attached zone. I'm sure my psychologist would have something to say about that. If I am honest with myself, which I'm often not, I'd tell myself that maybe I couldn't date Darius because I hadn't gotten over someone else. But rather than attend to those scary thoughts, I push them away.

The week progresses in much the same manner, although I don't see Darius again. United has hit a slow period apparently, at least for the legal team, and we even leave the office early on Friday. While some of the others rejoice and hit one of the bars near work, I head home, ready for a date with my sweatpants and some Chinese takeaway.

The weekend is quiet. Prim and Rory spend most of their days out and about the city, while I choose to stay in to watch T.V. and text Johanna. Darius ends up texting me the following week and I accept before I can talk myself out of it. He comes around for what turns out to be a much more relaxed night than I expect. We have a mini Netflix marathon of The Walking Dead and a quick but satisfying bout of sex. In the back of my mind, I feel uneasy that this seems to be heading toward relationship territory but I let it go for the moment. Apparently, my concern sticks in my mind however, when I end up dreaming of college for the first time in a while.

I trudge up the stairs of Haymitch's rental, dragging my feet slowly behind me. I push my way through the door to Peeta's room and collapse onto the bed, face down, my shoes still in. He's reading a book, his arm casually bent behind his head as he lounges on the bed. I hear him laugh as the bed moves, jostling me back and forth. I feel a hand on my ankle as he gently slips my flats off and they clunk softly to the carpet.

"Long day?" I can hear amusement as well as empathy in his voice.

I groan into the bed covers. "Why did I get a job with such long hours? Actually why did I study law? I feel like I haven't slept in days."

He chuckles as he lies back down next to me. I imagine he's propped up on an elbow as he looks down at me. His hand gently caresses my back.

"It'll pay off in the end."

I mumble unintelligibly into the comforter. He's not exactly appeased by my answer. His hands grab my waist and drag me toward him, turning me to face him. I open my eyes, resting my chin on his chest, with my hands folded beneath.

"Sorry. Hey." I greet him properly, with a small smile on my lips.

"Hey." I feel his laugh rumble in his chest. "You hungry?"

I am but I don't want to move. "No," I say. "Can we just nap?"

He looks at me with a lopsided smile and picks up his book with the hand that isn't around me. "You nap, I'll read."

Satisfied with his suggestion, I turn on my side and snuggle into his chest, savouring the warmth of his body. I fall asleep within minutes, being lulled by his rhythmic breathing. Not long later however, he moves beneath me, jostling me to consciousness. I groan in annoyance.

"Katniss."

I snuggle further into him, ignoring the strange high pitched noise in the room.

"Katniss." The noise grows louder. "Wake up. You're phone's ringing."

Suppressing an angry retort, I ask, "Who is it?"

A beat of silence passes. "Gale."

"Just tell him I'll ring him back." I mumble, my eyes still closed, though I'm growing irritated by the loud ringtone.

"Uh, Katniss?"

"What, Peeta?" I exclaim with annoyance. I sit up suddenly and glare into eyes that are definitely not Peeta's. I gasp loudly and jerk back; though for some reason we're lying near the edge of the bed. I put my hand behind me to distance myself and sit up properly but I'm met with empty air. I roll off the bed and hit the hardwood floors unceremoniously. The ringing ceases. Darius scampers to the edge of the bed and peers down at me.

"Are you alright?"

Groaning, I sit up slowly. "What time is it?"

He checks the clock. "5:30am."

My phone starts ringing again suddenly and I feel my irritation grow. Darius is still holding it in his outstretched hand. I snatch it grumpily and accept the call.

"What is it?"

"Well, hello to you too." Gale utters in a sarcastic, yet cheery voice. "What's wrong?"

I want to throw the phone at the wall. I rub my face with my hand as I still sit on the floor. Darius is watching me with a perplexed expression. "It's 5:30 in the fucking morning and I've been working late all week."

Silence. Then he swears. "Sorry, I didn't think about the time difference. I can ring you back later – "

"Don't bother, I'm awake now." I ease up a little with my haughty tone. "Why did you call?"

"I wanted to ask you about the Benefit."

Thinking about work was not exactly what I wanted to be doing at this time in morning but I answer him anyway. "Why do you want to know about that?"

"I'm attending it and I know you are too. I was wondering if you wanted to go together."

"Together?"

"I know you hate these things and I'm not too keen on it either but I need the business connections. And I haven't seen you in ages, Katniss. I miss my best friend. I thought it'd be more bearable if we went together as friends, you know? We could have some fun together." He adds.

My sleep addled brain is slow to process his suggestion. "Uh, yeah, yeah…yes good idea. I didn't realize you were going. When are you flying in? Do you need somewhere to stay?"

"I got a hotel. I'll be there for a week. I thought, maybe…we could hang out."

I hate how unsure he sounds, as if our friendship is that tenuous. Granted, we were on rocky ground in college. Once I returned to State 12 though, a lot of our issues regarding our friends with benefits relationship melted away. 3 years on, we're now both comfortably just friends, though I feel like we don't know each other as well as we did before.

"Why don't you just stay with me?" I offer. "It might not be as nice as a swanky hotel but it'll probably be more fun."

"Are you sure? I don't want to impose."

"No, please stay. I miss you too." I admit quietly.

He agrees and we settle the details before he hangs up and attends to his work, once again apologizing for waking me up so early. I look up from the floor to find Darius still staring at me.

"Who's Gale?"

"Old friend." I take the hand he offers me as I climb back into the bed. I lay on my back next to him, putting a couple of inches between us.

"You called me Peeta before."

I roll my head to the side and open my eyes. "Sorry. He's an old friend from college. He was in my dream." I smile slightly, masking the nervousness I feel. If Darius makes the link between the name and the tenant of Victor's Village he doesn't show it.

I'm slowly slipping back into sleep, vaguely wondering whether Darius will go back to sleep as well or just leave, when the high pitched ringing of my phone jerks me awake again.

"Oh for fuck's sake." I reach blindly to the nightstand and accept the call.

"Hello?" I answer, frustrated.

"Katniss?" I sigh as I hear Leevy's voice. "Sorry for waking you, but would you be able to come in early today? We have a slight problem."

I take a deep calming breath, trying to quell my anger, and then roll out of bed, landing on my feet this time. "I'm on my way." I tell her as I exit the bedroom, ignoring Darius' confused expression.

000

The day turns out to be never-ending. We're presented with a disgruntled volunteer threatening to sue, and we pore desperately over state and national laws trying to determine whether they can actually sue us. Leevy and I are the last ones left in the office that night. Papers are scattered over both our desks as we lie on the floor surrounded by more papers. Our shoes lie haphazardly on the carpet as we review all our information.

"God, I need a drink." Leevy groans, rubbing her palms against her face. I murmur in assent as I squint at the words that keep moving on the paper. Suddenly her face shoots up from her hands. "That's what we should do! This is going to take days. One more hour and then we go and get drinks. What do you say?"

My first instinct is to say no, but I catch myself before I answer. A voice in the back of my head dimly warns me that Leevy may not be the best person to begin hanging out with if I am trying to avoid Peeta. But the louder, more prominent, voice says fuck it. I didn't need to work my life around Peeta's. We are two separate people. If I want to have drinks with a co-worker I can.

And that's how I end up getting drunk with my arch nemesis' best friend. Well, okay, Madge Undersee isn't my arch nemesis. She's actually really sweet. And good for Peeta. But…well, I'm going to stick with arch nemesis.

Leevy and I sit ourselves on a table out on the balcony of the 312 Tower, one of the trendy rooftop bars of the Capitol, sipping impressive looking cocktails by Leevy's recommendation.

"Sometimes I wonder why I even bothered becoming a lawyer." She muses, the martini glass rising to her lips as she looks out at the city scape.

"Why did you?"

She sighs. "My parents expected me to do something impressive. You know, law or med or something. They didn't spend all that money on my education for nothing, you know? I ended up going with law when Madge made her dad promise me a job at United."

I briefly wonder what it's like to grow up with that kind of mentality that seemed pertinent to most of the Capitol. Everyone is always striving for the biggest and best, even if these things aren't in their reach. I'd never once considered entering into a law degree without personal interest in the field. The job Haymitch had wrangled me was merely an added bonus; not a deciding factor. I wonder whether Madge Undersee is the same as Leevy.

"Why not become a doctor? United employ them too."

She smiles gently. "I wouldn't be cut out for medicine."

Our conversation skirts away from the serious side and enters into the trivial side. While girl talk has never been my thing, I find it nice to relax with a friend and engage in simple banter.

"Do you have a partner?" Her question catches me a little off guard as I had been listening to her complain about her husband. Her eyes flit to my ring finger which is bare, unlike hers where an impressive engagement ring and wedding band sit.

"Nope." I take a sip from my cocktail. "I'm single." Her eyebrows shoot up as she stares at me. "Why do you look so surprised?"

She now scoffs in disbelief, confusing me further. "Uh, because you're hot? And you're successful. You have the best legs I've ever seen since you're a fitness freak, especially in those heels." I suddenly become wary of my legs that are crossed to the side of the table. "And like half the guys here are checking you out."

My eyes sweep the room at her ridiculous comment. "No they're not."

She grins, shaking her head. "I can't believe you. I tell you what, by the end of the night we'll have you a guy. That'll make this whole day better."

"I don't need a guy, Leevy." I laugh nervously into my drink. I don't even think about how I already kind of have one. No, instead all I think of is my 3 year old relationship with Peeta.

She frowns, studying my face. "Bad breakup?"

I shake my head. "No, the last guy I dated was in college."

Her eyes bug out of head. "That was three, nearly four years ago!"

"Yeah, well…I've been busy." I say lamely. She's not really listening though. Her eyes are focused above my head, tracking the movements of the men in the bar, now outraged that I haven't been in a relationship for so long. I don't bother telling her they are all out of my league. We are in a pretty flashy place and I'm sure the majority of them come from money, or are rich entrepreneurs and business men of sorts. I'd never fit into their lifestyle. However, Leevy's eyes light up a few minutes later.

"Oh my god, Rye Mellark just walked in. I know him, he's really sweet and he's single." My heart is beating nervously. I open my mouth to let her know that is a bad idea but continues on quickly. "You've met Madge right? Well she's been dating Rye's younger brother Peeta for two years. You've probably heard of the Mellark's, or at least their bakeries, right? Peeta's an artist, he's really good. Rye manages the family business with their father. He's really funny too. I think he has a lot of flings though…but you're not looking for something super serious right? I mean, even if you were, you could still go for it. I mean look at him."

She gestures toward the window where Rye Mellark can be seen inside the bar, talking to a bunch of suits. I wouldn't deny that he wasn't good looking, just like his brother.

"Leevy, I can't."

"Why not?" She asks, horrified.

"I know him."

Her horrified expression morphs to one of interest. She leans forward, her chin on her hand. "How do you know Rye Mellark?"

My nerves increase as we proceed further into dangerous territory. "College."

She frowns. "Rye's two years older than me. You guys didn't go to college at the same time. And didn't you go to college in State 4?"

"He was in State 4 when I was in college."

"Oh. So you're friends then? Even better! Why don't we go over and say hi? If it's too awkward with Rye maybe we can get you in with one of his other good looking friends." She picks up her drink and starts to stand up from the barstool but I pull her sleeve down.

"We're not friends exactly."

She frowns, then her eyes widen, making yet another leap. "You already slept with him didn't you? Or…oh my god! Did you date Rye Mellark?"

This is the last thing I thought I'd be discussing with Leevy tonight and I'm slightly shocked that we've entered into this conversation so swiftly. My dream from this morning comes back to me. There's no avoiding it, I remind myself. She knows Rye, Madge and Peeta; it's going to come up eventually. I'm just worried whatever friendship I've managed to foster with Leevy will be broken when I tell her.

"No." I say evenly. "I uh, dated Peeta Mellark in college. That's how I know Rye."

Her hand freezes mid-air with her drink halfway to her mouth. "You dated, Peeta?" She asks disbelievingly. I nod. "And that was the last guy you dated?" Her expression turns to sympathy. "Oh, and he broke up with you?"

I have the urge to laugh at what Leevy has implied. She knows what Peeta is like. I know exactly where her train of thought has led her: who on earth would break up with him?

Me, apparently.

I shake my head. "No. I broke up with him."

Understanding finally flashes in her eyes and she stares at me with a look of shock that I expected from the beginning. "You're his ex-girlfriend." She breathes.

I grimace. I knew it. "Madge has told you about me."

But she shakes her head slightly, surprising me. "No. I mean she never told me who you were. I just heard about you. She was… worried about you."

"Worried about me?"

She takes another sip of the cocktail. "She said he had an ex and that she was worried he was still hung up over her. She said that she'd really…damaged him." She finishes quietly.

We stare at each other oddly for a second and I open my mouth to ask her when exactly this was said when a glass is suddenly placed onto the table.

"Ladies." A jovial voce greets us. "It's been a while."

I avert my gaze from Leevy to look up into a familiar pair of cerulean blue eyes. Sighing internally, I put on my best smile.

"Hello, Rye."