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THREE DAYS passed, but the time did little to fix Davina's bruised ego. Her body had stopped aching after the second day, the familiar feeling of bruises bringing her little joy. By the time the next match day rolled around, she had talked herself into beating whoever she ended up against. She had spent a long time in her head, running through everyone based on the matches she watched and the regular training they continued, gauging their threat level and formulating a plan for anyone she was asked to fight.
This included Edward, who she assumed could come up again if initiation went for thirty days. He had hardly talked to her since he had won against her, and she had made no effort to, either. She was somewhat offended that he hadn't tried harder, but she had been getting used to eating meals alone and heading to training on her own. Sometimes Apollo joined her, but it felt more like pity than anything, and she grew annoyed.
Davina was the only one still hung up on the first matches. All anyone could talk about was Christina's discipline, and Eric's cruelty. Molly had boasted that the girl deserved it, and should've taken the beating or gotten up. Davina had only hung her head lower and forced down a meal. Here she was, bruised over one loss when Christina had almost died.
It did not stop the feeling of inadequacy that had returned for the first time since she had left her home Faction. Except this time it did not come from her mother, or the shadow that Viviane cast over her, but herself. She could feel it in her stomach, something dark and angry, beating herself up for losses she hadn't even been through yet, cutting at her knuckles as she continued to train by herself at night. It had killed her appetite and carved dark circles under her eyes, but Davina felt more confident now to face her next opponent and secure a foot in initiation.
The match day had put her in an irritable mood, but she wasn't bothering anyone, at least until he had come over.
"You look lonely," Peter said at breakfast, looking across at her with his forest green eyes.
"I don't need your company," Davina snapped at him.
"Look, nose, when I said you could stop being a third wheel I didn't mean sitting alone," Peter told her. It was only him that morning– he had left his table of lackeys to come over to her. Davina gave him an annoyed look.
"I like being alone," she told him stiffly.
He scoffed. "Liar."
"How would you know?" she challenged.
"I'm Candor," he said simply. "I can see lies."
"Christina told me you're just about the worst Candor out there," Davina retorted.
"Believe what you want," Peter said with a shrug. "I doubt you'll be slow enough to get pinned like her."
