Atticus really felt like he was still getting his feet under him in the Capitol. It was weird to have to fight for his life one week and be pampered and preened over the next.

And he really couldn't get used to having someone dress him. He was all in ambers and oranges tonight, highlighting the eye color he usually tried to disguise as much as possible. He fidgets a little in his seat, occasionally running fingers through his curls or pushing his glasses (which he'd finally gotten the okay to wear again) up his nose.