D I S C O N T I N U E D
❝Yes, I have been told I'm too rude to be from Amity. Has anyone ever told you that you're an asshole?❞
In which a girl who was meant to be kind must fight for her survival while also trying to keep a secret that could c...
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THE HANCOCK
Shocked but not surprised.
That was the best way Camilla could describe how she felt at that moment. Her mouth was agape and her eyes were wide, even though (not to toot her own horn or anything) there was a part of her that was certain these would be her results, despite her still very lackluster skills at knife throwing.
Even still, Camilla couldn’t seem to tear her gaze away from the 3 scrawled next to her name. Pride and relief washed over her, along with a tidal wave of exhaustion, having not fully recognised how tired she truly was until the safety of her ranking allowed her a moment to breathe; to take a step back from all of the fighting and the stresses of initiation, and realise just how badly she was in need of a nice, long rest.
And that’s exactly what Camilla planned to get.
Pressing a hand to her mouth to stifle a yawn, Camilla slunk past the other initiates, muttering a polie no thanks at Will’s invitation of celebrating. Her eyes were already drooping as she perched on the edge of her bed and began to remove her shoes, careful not to bump knees with Peter, who was opposite her, mimicking her actions.
There was an odd tension in the air, radiating of Peter in waves so large that they startled Camilla enough to break the silence, despite her strong desire to just lie down.
“Second huh? That pretty good.” Mumbled Camilla, resting her hands on her knees. When he didn’t reply, didn’t even spare her a glance, she continued, “Something tells me you’re not happy with that, though.”
It was when Peter finally met her gaze and she noticed the gleam within his eyes that Camilla knew she was right in her assumption. Of course Peter wouldn’t be happy with second place.
“Whatever you’re planning, don’t do it.” She tried to keep her voice low and steady, but she couldn’t even finish her sentence without breaking off with a yawn.
It was something that seemed to amuse Peter, as he chuckled lightly, the scheming look in his eyes only growing stronger. “Don’t worry your pretty little head about it, Camilla.”
“Peter—”
“You should get some sleep.”
And if it weren’t for her heavy eyes and constant yawns, Camilla would’ve ignored his suggestion and continued to pressure him into stopping whatever it was he had planned. But sadly, Camilla was simply running out of energy too quickly, and all she ended up being able to do was nod and sigh in tired defeat as she copied his actions and fell back into her bed, slipping into a dreamless sleep before her head even hit the pillow.
