#me: billy boy ?? i don’t think she’ll go with you 😂 but ok

[lucygraysboy]

“dovie. reva blue. lucy gray, you have a talent for finding the cutest names. besides, doves are gorgeous birds, very docile and intelligent so i don’t blame you for going with it.” billy certainly shares lucy gray’s love for nature and animals, and could talk about them for hours. “well, i’ll need a few rags, yarn for the hair, maybe some wool if we can get it or feathers to stuff it with?” or more rags. “buttons so that we can use them as eyes.” or whatever it was that her dolly’s face was made of. “oh, i get it now. is that why your middle name is gray? and this lovely lady’s is blue?” he points to the bear, smiling softly as the story makes him feel both warm and empty on the inside. “that dress really is something out of this world. i’ve never seen anything like it, not even when i was little, back at the capitol.” he doesn’t ask what exactly happened to her mama, sensing they share this ever-lasting, all-consuming kind of grief that only motherless children carry, wishing he could give her a hug but making no move for it. “how’d she lose the arm?” he asks quietly, as if the bear could overhear them and get her feelings hurt. “do your friends or family know you’re here? that you’re alive?” he doesn’t want to sound stupid and ask what THE COVEY is, and so he pretends to know everything. “billy taupe? taupe?” gray. blue. taupe. he finds it fascinating, wondering which district has such unique traditions. 12? 11? “why would my brother be jealous of your boyfriend?” their mother’s scarf. now this. billy lifts an eyebrow, curious about what exactly happened between the two. “i don’t have a lot in common with my father so i don’t think i’m truly a snow,” he insists, setting the cloth down and beginning to apply iodine to her wounds. “are you still cold?” he wants to take her mind off of the physical pain that she may be experiencing now, rubbing the disinfectant into her cuts but avoiding the bruises. not much can be done to help those. maybe he could put a cold compress on, help with the swelling, but he doesn’t want to make her shiver now that she should actually be warming up. “alright, can you keep your blouse like this for a moment longer? let it dry, alright?” he instructs, kneeling before her to take a look at her leg and managing to stifle a shriek by some miracle. oh, lord almighty, what happened to her. this one does look bad. he’s not a medic, but the redness around the gash and slight swelling bring to mind the beginning of a potential infection. “how’d this happen? did you fall?” he asks, concern brimming in his eyes as fingertips gently touch the edge of her wound, trying to see if the skin’s warmer here, figure out if something might be stuck there. sometimes all it takes is a speck of dirt or a splinter. “this must have been botherin’ you for a while, hm?”

“i did have a dolly, her hair was made out of yarn cause of course there wasn’t any means for a real doll even if we wanted one. it was one of the things that got left behind when our covey got pushed out of our last home by peacekeepers. all i have left of childhood toys is my mama’s bear she made for me, over yonder. sittin’ on the bed with a missin’ arm. reva blue the rainbow bear, or probably should be rainy bear now since she must not feel so fun anymore with no arm.” lucy gray frowns, “reva blue is her birth name, though. reva means rain and blue because rainbows start in bluer skies after the rain.” giving a little explanation, the bear is light brown with quilted rainbow ruffles sewed into her waist with a purple heart sewn onto her left foot, a yellow heart sewn into her right foot. her rainbow skirt is in better shape than hers, even if she’s took some wear and tear of her own with that missing arm. lucy gray thinks how she feels a lot like that bear, still trying to be colorful in these conditions because that’s the type of person she was born by heart as — staying relentlessly optimistic, but slowly officially losing her light. wearing her rainbow but becoming torn apart. “nice knowin’ how terribly biased an’ judgmental she is.” really— she’s shocked why coriolanus was even enamored by her for a few seconds. or how. since, she would figure he’s exactly like his grandma’am. thinks anyone other than capitol is the only worthy people in his mind. her mind is puzzled he could find anything attractive about her at all, since she feels like she should have been horribly ugly to him. how could he fake starry eyes and exchange kisses with her if he thought she was gross? but she should have been gross to him so her mind is burning trying to understand him even more. “of course. but one passed when i was younger and then the other i had that was livin’…i’m not sure anymore. we moved so often, but mamaw couldn’t just pick up and leave, so she stayed. i’m not sure if she somehow still might be there or she got rooted out too. or somethin’ else.” she could have died by now, that was a few years ago now. either way, the loss of so many family members weighs down heavily never knowing their fates. “well, that’s how people get you vulnerable. they pretend to fix things an’ be nice, but they can have killer motives behind it all.” lucy gray points out, placing the knife down on the bed while other hand is pulling loose the strings on her corset. “that’s interestin’.” thinking out loud, meaning his new name. william henry bonney. opening the door on the closet filled with pans and other miscellaneous things, she uses it as a cover. tugging the corset off, her long sleeve and then the ruffly multi colored skirt— throwing each of the pieces onto the bed. her hands dip down in her bag and pull out a soft lavender colored skirt and a white long sleeve with floral and butterflies on the front of the collar where it ties in the front and a tiny bow hangs down. wobbly legs step into the light purple skirt, feeling dangerously lightheaded before tugging on the shirt. closing the closet door back, she leaves her arms hanging out of the shirt, sleeves loosely hanging at her sides.

billy… brows creased at the familiarity. did he or dr gaul purposely choose the name billy to be even more twisted? she’s staring over at him like he fully offended her alone just by his name: billy. of course he offends her, because he must have remembered billy taupe. “there’s a scrape on my shoulder from tree limbs getting a hold of me takin’ it’s time healin’. and then there’s one like it on my leg, from scrapin’ it on a rock.” reluctantly sitting back down in front of him with that same scowl still on her face as she keeps dwelling on this name billy, there are scatters of bruises and cuts on her shoulders now that they’re bare not just the one she’s sugar coating on her left shoulder just because it’s a little more significantly different in size. the biggest though, is on on the inside of her upper leg where her knees meet. the second one that’s actually getting potential to set up for infection. moving her skirt until it’s bunched up in her lap, revealing the icky red scrape on her left leg starting above her knee and ending somewhere down the inner part of her upper leg.