ᴛʜᴇ ᴀɴɢᴇʟ

                                    

                                          
   WHILE DELILAH HAD been sent off to get cleaned and pampered, she was the talk of the Capitol, along with another boy of the same age. Finnick Odair, she had heard. Well, that was what the women around her had said, it could just be a sick mind game they were playing on her though as she laid there getting her hair washed and trimmed, her eyebrows plucked and her legs waxed. Every little detail was perfected before she was shipped off to meet her stylist. 
                          
   The three ladies chattered and praised her, admiring her clean physique for 'someone like her'. And Delilah knew exactly what they meant by such a phrasing, they were used to dealing with the very worst from the poorer districts. If Delilah didn't swim as often as she did then she would have been equally grimy. 
                          
   "Dorian is going to adore you!" One of the woman gushed, pinching her cheek rather roughly before turning to wax the underneath of her eyebrows. This whole beauty thing was far too painful for her and she thought she had a great pain tolerance.
                          
   "It's no wonder everyone's obsessed with you!" Another added, getting a chorus of giggles from the other two that was rather unnerving. Nope, Delilah did not like the sound of that.
                          
    It must've been another half an hour before they had finished prepping her. Leaving Delilah in the middle of the room, completely naked and her robe slung over the chair. To say she felt exposed was an understatement, even being on her own she felt rather insecure. It's not like she hated her body, it helped her whilst she was working and that's all that mattered. But it was obvious how underweight she was. The only fat on her went straight to her legs to keep her sturdy through the long days. Her appearance wasn't something she bothered with, it wasn't keeping her alive. As she looked into the mirror after all the work they did, it was someone new staring back at her. Did she like it? She wasn't so sure. Nobody liked change.
                          
   Dorian entered, he was a lean man with a quirky beard to accompany his dreadlocks that sat in a large bun on top of his head. His colour scheme was silver and green which complimented each other nicely. The man instantly scanned her over, causing her to frown. His piercing gaze was making her stomach perform backflips as he circled her like she was some kind of prey.
                          
   "Finally! A truly beautiful base." He exclaimed, making the girl tense up although that wasn't the man's intention. "Honestly, you should have seen the pair I worked with last year. Absolutely flavourless." Dorian said causing her to giggle lightly. The man paused. "Do that again." She scrunched her brows in confusion. "Smile for me." He asked and she complied. "Oh wow." The man gushed. "I have never seen such a beautiful smile. We can work with that! I have a splendid idea. You are going to shine. Who wants to fit in anyway?" Dorian asked rhetorically as he grabbed the girl's robe and threw it on her before he grabbed hand and pulled her down the corridors to a fitting area full of fabrics and, most importantly, measuring equipment. "Here." He ushered her onto the small podium and was about to retrieve her measurements when he paused. "I'm Dorian Torkson by the way, I am your stylist as you probably guessed but I'm here for you in any way you need. This year, I'm taking a new approach. To get sponsors, you need to impress and with that smile, I know how. I'm done with the lower districts having no chance." The man rambled as he was sizing her up for a dress. This man had made her feel welcome, unlike the capitol members that was prepping her earlier. She noticed that he liked to talk a lot, which was good because she didn't - not around people she didn't know. After all, actions spoke louder than words. 



                          
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   Hours passed by and it was time to go. The girl was passed a beautiful white dress that was a pretty simple design. A spaghetti strap tank top bodice that flared out into a long train. Furthermore, the dress had a straw look towards the train to represent the grain of her district. It was like nothing she'd ever seen before, plus a dress had never fit her so well. The tight fit concerned her slightly, it wasn't her go-to. When she was working in the fields, she needed comfort. Working in tight and restricting clothes was simply ludicrous.