"I'm sure your districtmates appreciate the work you do." There's a thread of slightly forced cheerfulness, as if she's trying to convince herself that doing that much work when it isn't necessary is worth it.
Clara isn't sure why she wants to torture herself like this. Hearing about other couples being happy hurts, but at the same time, she wants to hear that it's possible to be happy in this place if the Capitol doesn't ruin things too much. Maybe it makes her something of an emotional vampire to hear that a relationship here can work.
If she really thought about it, she'd wonder if part of the reason why she dwells on it is the eternal hope that she and Alex could be a real couple again, even here.
"Take it from someone who's been married for years, that never changes, no matter how much you pest him about it." The smile she shoots at him is somewhere between knowing and hurting, as if the thought of Alex leaving clothes laying around stings. "At least with Alex's shirts it was usually easy to keep track of where it wound up on the floor." It's weird to talk about Alex and shirts to casually, considering the last time was weeks after the bombing and she almost broke down sobbing in the middle of a Starbucks. The only reason the wobble she can feel doesn't turn into something else is because she quickly takes a swig of her coffee in an attempt to dispel it. "At least you don't have to worry about doing laundry here and trying to match them."
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Clara isn't sure why she wants to torture herself like this. Hearing about other couples being happy hurts, but at the same time, she wants to hear that it's possible to be happy in this place if the Capitol doesn't ruin things too much. Maybe it makes her something of an emotional vampire to hear that a relationship here can work.
If she really thought about it, she'd wonder if part of the reason why she dwells on it is the eternal hope that she and Alex could be a real couple again, even here.
"Take it from someone who's been married for years, that never changes, no matter how much you pest him about it." The smile she shoots at him is somewhere between knowing and hurting, as if the thought of Alex leaving clothes laying around stings. "At least with Alex's shirts it was usually easy to keep track of where it wound up on the floor." It's weird to talk about Alex and shirts to casually, considering the last time was weeks after the bombing and she almost broke down sobbing in the middle of a Starbucks. The only reason the wobble she can feel doesn't turn into something else is because she quickly takes a swig of her coffee in an attempt to dispel it. "At least you don't have to worry about doing laundry here and trying to match them."