ℒivia

[&*.]     one   way   or   another   i’m   gonna    GETCHA   ,   getcha   ,   getcha   [ ... ]   one   day   ,  maybe  next  week !

Coriolanus stood in the doorway of the living room, his hands buried in the pockets of his dark coat, as if to prevent himself from touching something he might later regret. Livia sat on the white sofa, her legs crossed, her gaze fixed on the fireplace, where the fire crackled without giving off any heat. Her lips were still thin, her cheeks pale with suppressed anger. He knew that expression. He had seen it often enough in the mirror himself. He took a step closer, slowly, as if she were an animal that would flee at the slightest hasty movement.

"Livia."

His voice was deeper than usual, almost gentle, but with that undertone that only she knew—the one that said he was pulling himself together. That it was taking effort. She didn't answer. Didn't even turn her head. He breathed in through his nose, once, controlled. Then again.

"I was... impatient. And I said things I didn't mean. Not everything, anyway."

Now she looked at him. Her blue eyes were cold as the marble in the Capitol. Coriolanus took another step closer, but stopped when she sat up slightly—a warning. He raised a hand appeasingly.

"I know you hate me when I'm like this. And you're right. I was... I am an idiot when it comes to you. Let me make it up to you."

Livia raised an eyebrow. He didn't smile, though it tugged at him. Instead, he took his hands out of his pockets and stepped right up to her, slowly kneeling in front of the sofa so their faces were level. A gesture he hated. It made him look weak. But he did it for her.

"Because I'm tired of you looking at me as if I were the enemy in my own house. You're right. I didn't want you. Not like that. Not back then. But I also don't want to be the man who forces you to ask yourself every evening in front of the fireplace whether you'll ever be anything more than a pawn on my chessboard. I'm not playing games with you anymore, Livia. I'm kneeling here because I know you deserve someone to finally stop pretending. And because I see no other way to show you that I understand what I did to you. I expect nothing. No forgiveness. No gratitude. Just... that you stop closing yourself off from me."

He let go of her hand, slowly, as if he wanted to leave it up to her to decide whether the touch should stay or go. Then he lowered his gaze briefly, almost resigned, before raising it again, clear and unyielding.

        ❛       if you promise me the same, then.. you have my word to let you in.      ❜     her voice was a mere whisper, not that she intended it to be such. she caught his hand as he withdrew it and she intertwined their fingers, her palm against his.     ❛       but please, do not play hot and cold. don’t shut me out when you have doubts, just talk to me. let me be your wife, your friend.      ❜     she tried not to sound like she was pleading but she couldn’t mask that.

    she leaned forward and pressed a kiss to his forehead then pulled back slightly.     ❛       we can go.      ❜     she nodded, squeezing his hand slightly. she couldn’t help but hope this was a start to a genuine change, it had to be. her free hand slid down his face, brushing against his neck, then rested on his shoulder. she found herself silently praying to gods that may’ve forgotten her to let this be real.

"Good. Then it's settled. I'll let you in. And you let me in. No more backing out, Livia. No more hiding. I won't shut you out, but don't expect gentle words when I'm angry. Expect honesty. And expect me not to let you go, even when it gets uncomfortable. We're going shopping now, and you'll get everything you want. Everything. No discussion. No 'that's too expensive'. No 'I don't need that'. Not today."

When she asked him not to shut her out, he nodded slowly, almost imperceptibly. His eyes narrowed, not coldly, but determinedly. The kiss on his forehead made him close his eyes briefly. He took a deep breath, as if to store this moment in his memory, then opened his eyes again and looked at her as if she were the only thing that existed at that moment. When she apologized and confessed that she didn't hate him, he stopped. He turned halfway toward her, placed his free hand on her cheek, gently forcing her to look at him.

"Stop apologizing. You have the right to be angry. You have the right to hate me if you want. But do it openly. Don't hide behind politeness. I'm not like him, and I'll prove to you that I'm better. Not with words. With actions. Come on. You're not missing anything today. Not a single thing. And if you are, tell me. Right away, and don't you dare try to be modest."

    ❛       i don’t mind you not letting me go.      ❜     she realized her voice was meek, she wasn’t used to being so honest but swallowing any worry. she stood up after him, grabbing his jacket from the head of the couch. he paused when she apologized, confusion painted her face as he carefully made her look at him.

    he was impossible. she nodded, burying her face into his palm briefly. when he withdrew she found herself missing the contact, blinking up at him. she stayed quiet, helping put his jacket on.     ❛       since we’re going out, why don’t we go to eat?      ❜     she suggested, smoothing out his jacket, fingers messing with a button.

Coriolanus stood in the doorway of the living room, his hands buried in the pockets of his dark coat, as if to prevent himself from touching something he might later regret. Livia sat on the white sofa, her legs crossed, her gaze fixed on the fireplace, where the fire crackled without giving off any heat. Her lips were still thin, her cheeks pale with suppressed anger. He knew that expression. He had seen it often enough in the mirror himself. He took a step closer, slowly, as if she were an animal that would flee at the slightest hasty movement.

"Livia."

His voice was deeper than usual, almost gentle, but with that undertone that only she knew—the one that said he was pulling himself together. That it was taking effort. She didn't answer. Didn't even turn her head. He breathed in through his nose, once, controlled. Then again.

"I was... impatient. And I said things I didn't mean. Not everything, anyway."

Now she looked at him. Her blue eyes were cold as the marble in the Capitol. Coriolanus took another step closer, but stopped when she sat up slightly—a warning. He raised a hand appeasingly.

"I know you hate me when I'm like this. And you're right. I was... I am an idiot when it comes to you. Let me make it up to you."

Livia raised an eyebrow. He didn't smile, though it tugged at him. Instead, he took his hands out of his pockets and stepped right up to her, slowly kneeling in front of the sofa so their faces were level. A gesture he hated. It made him look weak. But he did it for her.

"Because I'm tired of you looking at me as if I were the enemy in my own house. You're right. I didn't want you. Not like that. Not back then. But I also don't want to be the man who forces you to ask yourself every evening in front of the fireplace whether you'll ever be anything more than a pawn on my chessboard. I'm not playing games with you anymore, Livia. I'm kneeling here because I know you deserve someone to finally stop pretending. And because I see no other way to show you that I understand what I did to you. I expect nothing. No forgiveness. No gratitude. Just... that you stop closing yourself off from me."

He let go of her hand, slowly, as if he wanted to leave it up to her to decide whether the touch should stay or go. Then he lowered his gaze briefly, almost resigned, before raising it again, clear and unyielding.

        ❛       if you promise me the same, then.. you have my word to let you in.      ❜     her voice was a mere whisper, not that she intended it to be such. she caught his hand as he withdrew it and she intertwined their fingers, her palm against his.     ❛       but please, do not play hot and cold. don’t shut me out when you have doubts, just talk to me. let me be your wife, your friend.      ❜     she tried not to sound like she was pleading but she couldn’t mask that.

    she leaned forward and pressed a kiss to his forehead then pulled back slightly.     ❛       we can go.      ❜     she nodded, squeezing his hand slightly. she couldn’t help but hope this was a start to a genuine change, it had to be. her free hand slid down his face, brushing against his neck, then rested on his shoulder. she found herself silently praying to gods that may’ve forgotten her to let this be real.

Coriolanus stood in the doorway of the living room, his hands buried in the pockets of his dark coat, as if to prevent himself from touching something he might later regret. Livia sat on the white sofa, her legs crossed, her gaze fixed on the fireplace, where the fire crackled without giving off any heat. Her lips were still thin, her cheeks pale with suppressed anger. He knew that expression. He had seen it often enough in the mirror himself. He took a step closer, slowly, as if she were an animal that would flee at the slightest hasty movement.

"Livia."

His voice was deeper than usual, almost gentle, but with that undertone that only she knew—the one that said he was pulling himself together. That it was taking effort. She didn't answer. Didn't even turn her head. He breathed in through his nose, once, controlled. Then again.

"I was... impatient. And I said things I didn't mean. Not everything, anyway."

Now she looked at him. Her blue eyes were cold as the marble in the Capitol. Coriolanus took another step closer, but stopped when she sat up slightly—a warning. He raised a hand appeasingly.

"I know you hate me when I'm like this. And you're right. I was... I am an idiot when it comes to you. Let me make it up to you."

Livia raised an eyebrow. He didn't smile, though it tugged at him. Instead, he took his hands out of his pockets and stepped right up to her, slowly kneeling in front of the sofa so their faces were level. A gesture he hated. It made him look weak. But he did it for her.

      aggravated. livia was seething as she sat idly in a meeting, it had been constant back and forth. she was beginning to think the people before her were children, they certainly acted like it. her hand raised to her ear, messing with her earring as she resisted the urge to snap at everyone in the room. it was becoming increasingly louder, people talking over one another and spewing ideas that she wouldn't even dare consider. it was finally over and she could breathe once again.

"My day was... bearable. But I suppose yours proved once again that even charity can become a weapon in the wrong hands. Come, before you murder someone else with your gaze. At home, there's hot tea and no people who believe that loudness replaces competence."

His gaze slid searchingly over her face, her flushed cheeks, the tiny snowflake caught in her eyelashes. He gently raised his hand and...

    she took his arm, leaning close to him to shield herself from the cold. she loved this time of year, despite the cold biting at her face. she smiled up at him, unusually soft as she watched snow fall onto him, getting caught in strands of hair. she kept his pace, they were taking their time and taking in the day. at least she was.

"You'll get all wet and then complain later that you're cold,"

he said quietly, but without reproach. His voice had that calm, almost velvety tone he only used when he felt unobserved. There was a hint of gentle mockery in it, but his eyes betrayed something else—a rare, subdued tenderness that he would hardly admit to himself. He glanced briefly at the dog, then back at her, and as she straightened up, he offered her his arm without another word.

"Come on. Before you get the idea to adopt the next stray dog and let it move into our bedroom,"

he murmured, gently pulling her back to his side, closer than necessary perhaps. He said "our" as a matter of course, as if it had always been that way. The snow crunched under their footsteps, and Coriolanus glanced down at her briefly as a few flakes landed on her cheek.

"You're smiling a lot today. Almost as if you've forgotten that we live in Panem."

    ❛       but imagine how cute a puppy would be.      ❜     she tried to ignore how her heart fluttered at the casual way he said our bedroom. it was an unfamiliar feeling, one she had worked so hard to prevent. he pulled her closer to his side and to her own surprise she didn’t pull away. she wouldn’t admit it—not even to herself—but she enjoyed the closeness. she’d chalk it up to the cold.

"You really are incorrigible, Livia. A puppy. On our bed. With its cute little paw prints all over the silk sheets you love so much. Do you know what I imagine? How you wake up in the morning, completely disheveled, with this little monster on your chest, drooling on your face... and you smile anyway. Because you love him too much to ever give him back. Maybe I'll take a look at those litters you keep talking about next week. But only because I want to see how long it takes you to name one after me. And because I want to see you smile. Really smile. Without hiding it behind sarcasm."

"Am I really reconsidering?"

he repeated in a deep, calm voice, as if the question were the most natural thing in the world. He didn't look down at her immediately; instead, he let his gaze wander over the snow-covered avenue, as if searching for the right answer there, before finally lowering it to her. A fine flake of snow had caught in her eyelashes again. Coriolanus raised his hand, slowly this time, almost hesitantly, and gently stroked it with his thumb, as if he wanted to melt the flakes before they could touch her cheeks.

"I've hardly thought of anything else since you mentioned the dog earlier. A big, stupid guy with floppy ears who follows you everywhere and growls at me because he knows full well that I would rather have you than him..."

His voice had that rare, almost vulnerable tone that only she ever got to hear. He broke off, laughing briefly and hoarsely, as if surprised by his own confession. Then his gaze became serious again, piercing. His fingers slid from her cheek to a strand of hair that had come loose from her braid and gently tucked it behind her ear.

"I'm not just thinking about it, Livia. I've already decided that I want to see this picture, you, sleepy, with tousled hair and a dog that's much too big next to you, every single morning. Until you eventually get fed up with me and set the dog on me yourself. And if that never happens... then I've won anyway."

    would rather have you. it echoed in her mind, the words brought a sparkle to her eyes. the way he spoke was as if he had thought so carefully about it for months—no, as if he were reciting a scene that had already played out. she couldn’t hide her own smile, she was beaming. if you’d told her months ago that this is where she stood with coriolanus she would only scold you. for some odd reason she was allowing him in, letting him see a side of her she long thought gone.

    he continued describing how it would be as if he had lived it before. his hand brushing a loose strand back behind her ear—she hadn’t even noticed. she was too focused on the man in front of her, the one who was somehow making her melt in the midst of snowfall. she listened intently as if he were sharing something of extreme importance, her smile didn’t falter once. his laugh was rare and yet was like music to her ears.     ❛       well, now we have to get a dog.      ❜     she teased, emotions were hard to convey in words.

"Coriolanus as a dog's name?"

he repeated slowly, his voice deep, almost dangerously gentle. He took a step closer until the distance between them was little more than a breath. The snowfall suddenly seemed to slow, as if wanting to capture this moment. His free hand rose, brushing a snowflake from her cheek, gently but with a possessiveness he no longer hid.

"Do you know what happens when you give an animal my name, Livia? Then it belongs to me. Just like everything else that bears that name. And I don't share. Not my bed. Not my name. And certainly not you."

    his gentle yet blatantly possessive touch sent heat to her cheeks, flushing as he did so. she resisted the urge to lean into his touch, wanting to press her cheek into the warmth of his palm. she took in his features—they were sharp yet handsome, his hair had snow in it, and his eyes had a certain glint in them.

    eyes widened as he made note of not sharing—well, she knew that already, but he said he wouldn’t share her. she found herself questioning if he was feeling alright but didn’t say it aloud, her eyes said it for her. her lips parted as if to speak but no words came out, she simply blinked up at him. he leaned closer, enough to press his forehead to her own then just as quickly he pulled away. how typical of him to say such things and pretend as if nothing was said, a huff escaped her as she gave him a glance.

    she remained close to his side, keeping up with his strides. what was she to even say about the exchange? she was still puzzled by it all, mostly she was scolding herself for the fact it had such an impact on her. she promised herself that this would be nothing more than a strategy for political gain, that was the initial plan—but now all she could think of was his eyes on her and the words he so carefully whispered to her, how her body and mine reacted to all of it. she’d sworn off giving in to feelings like this but he made it hard.

"Finally..."

His voice had that deep, calm tone that brooked no contradiction, but also carried no coldness. He raised his hand, this time without hesitation, and brushed a wet strand of hair from her face that had come loose from her braid. His fingers slid lower, under her chin, lifting it so that she had to look at him.

"You said it's freezing cold. Then let's make sure you get warm."

A barely noticeable smile, sharp as a knife but warm as embers, crossed his lips. Without waiting for her answer, he turned, walked ahead into the salon, and knelt in front of the fireplace. With confident, practiced movements, he added new wood, stoked the embers until the flames leapt up and bathed the room in golden light. Only then did he straighten up again, pull the heavy coat from his shoulders, and throw it over an armchair. He turned to her, leaned his hips against the mantelpiece, and looked at her. Long. Openly. Without the mask he wore outside.

"Come here, Livia."

The flames cast dancing shadows on his face, and in his eyes was something she had only suspected outside in the snow: no strategy. No game. But something that had long since escaped its own rules.

"A gentleman... Maybe I am tonight. Just for you. Livia... You should know that I rarely do anything without knowing where it will lead. And yet, here I am, letting you look at me as if I were... just a man. Stay tonight. Not because the storm is raging. But because I want you to. And because I believe... that you want to too."

    ❛       where else would i go, coriolanus? i live with you.      ❜     she couldn’t help but chuckle at his words, her hands resting in front of her, wringing them as she took in the moment. everything felt so surreal, it was something new and something she could get used to. yet something made her bristle, maybe she shouldn’t get used to this. how often would he dare show this side of himself? would it be like pulling teeth trying to get his affection at any other time?

    her head tilted as the silky strand of her hair slipped from his fingers. he stepped away and she immediately followed, no time wasted when she took his hand in her own. she squeezed his hand, the warmth of his hand was a contrast to the coldness of her own. it was comforting, when did he become so comforting like this? she was second guessing a lot of it—but the look in his eyes showed a genuine ... a genuine what? she couldn’t quite name the look in his eyes but it sent a heat to her cheeks.

"Beautiful, you say?"

His voice was deep, almost whispering, as if he were savoring the word like a drop of poison that he nevertheless couldn't resist. He tilted his head, scrutinizing her with that cold, piercing gaze that was otherwise reserved for opponents—and yet today there was something else in it, something he himself didn't quite want to name.

"That's new and dangerous."

Slowly, he lifted her clasped hands, brought them to his lips, and let them rest there for a heartbeat—not really a kiss, just a hint, warm and deliberate. His eyes never left hers, drilling into them as if to see if she would flinch.

"You should be careful, Livia, when you look at me like that... and say things like that... I might start to believe it. And then it gets complicated."

He sat up again, gently but firmly pulling her a little closer until her forehead almost touched his. The warmth of the fire was reflected in his face, but behind it lurked the old, familiar coldness – only tonight it seemed a little more distant.

"...tonight I'll let you win."

    his hands were warm, she didn’t want to let go. she inhaled sharply at his words, he should believe it! she meant every word she said, otherwise she wouldn’t have said a word. she was starting to mentally reprimanded herself for being so stupid in sharing her honest feelings.

    ❛       coriolanus, believe what i say. i would not say it if i hadn’t meant it, you know that.      ❜     she firmly stated, pressing her forehead to his. her eyes shut as if she could somehow mentally sway him. she let go of his hands and pressed them to his chest.

"Livia, I hear you. I hear every single word, and I know you mean it. That makes it... harder."

His voice was deeper than usual, rough around the edges, as if he had to pull each word out of a locked chamber in his chest. He lowered his head until his forehead touched hers again, a gesture that seemed almost tender but was tinged with infinite weariness.

"I'm not cold because I want to hurt you. I'm cold because I have no other choice if I want to survive, if I want to protect both of us from what is yet to come. You see a man pushing you away. But I... I'm only pushing away what could break me before I even have a chance to be something worthy of you. I wish I could give you what you imagine. That life you talk about... warm, open, without walls. I imagined it once, too. A long time ago. But that was before I understood that everyone I really let in will pay for it sooner or later."

His fingers closed a little tighter around her arms, not painfully, but as if he needed this support to continue speaking. He lifted his head a little, just enough to look her in the eyes, and this time there was no glass wall between them, only a deep, painful honesty.

"You will be my wife, Livia. And I will do everything I can to ensure that you never regret standing by my side. But I cannot give you my heart. Not because you are not worthy, but because I no longer have one that is whole. If you still want me... despite everything... then stay. But do not hate me if I cannot give you what you dream of."

    he spoke of once imagining what she had spoke of, how only half his heart remained. she knew what—no, who—he was talking about and it only made her heart sink. she wasn’t dense, she never let anyone think that. a sense of coldness washed over her again. all the warmth in the room was gone, the fire felt distant and his skin felt cold.

    as he spoke all she could think of was her own parents, she finally realized what about this made her uneasy, what scared her. she was only becoming a spitting image of her parents. the pit in her stomach only grew, his voice felt far and suddenly she wanted to pull away. she felt stupid for trying at this, she needed to reel it in, she needed to build up the wall again.

    ❛       i understand.      ❜     she smiled, bitterly. all she could see was the boy she grew up with, the one she grew to resent and feel in constant competition with. she stepped back when he let go, distancing herself from him. he may have held her to ensure her stay but any sense of that crumbled away. any sense of the happiness that painted her face washed away in just moments.

"Livia. You don't have to go. Not tonight. I never said it would be easy. But you don't run away from papers, Livia. And you don't run away from me either. I know what you see when you look at me. The boy from the academy. The one who took everything you wanted. The one who now owns you without you wanting it. But you're wrong if you think I don't see the same thing when I look at you. You're not the only one here playing a role you never wanted."

It didn't sound like a request. More like a statement. A reminder. His gaze rested on her back, on the stiff line of her shoulders, on the way she crossed her arms as if she had to hold herself together. Now there was something darker in his voice. Something that was no longer just about the two of them. One step. Just one. Not close enough to touch her. Close enough that she had to feel his presence like a shadow falling over her. He paused. Let the words sink in. A cold, almost amused smile twitched at the corners of his mouth. Then he stepped back. Gave her the space she fought for with every breath.

"Go if you must. But don't come to me tomorrow and pretend this never happened. Because it will. Again and again. Until one of us gives up. And we both know, Livia... neither of us will ever give up."

    ❛       i hate you.      ❜     livia hissed, turning on her heels to face him. the words were bitter and stung yet something about it rang untrue. her stare burned into him, stomach churning as she came to stand by him. she leaned forward to look at him from his side.     ❛       you are no better than your father.      ❜     she was trying to make him upset now.

    a scoff escaped her as she thought carefully about her next words.     ❛       you don’t think i’m aware you never wanted this?      ❜     she continued,     ❛       you can’t just act like that and then be cold to me the next, it is pathetic that you need to use me as a piece of your game.      ❜     she swallowed hard, fighting back more words.

    forget the things that happened today. the dog, the things they shared, and the fire. she grabbed a vase of flowers off the mantel and poured the contents into the fire, snuffing out the warm flames and burning the arrangement of flowers within them.

      aggravated. livia was seething as she sat idly in a meeting, it had been constant back and forth. she was beginning to think the people before her were children, they certainly acted like it. her hand raised to her ear, messing with her earring as she resisted the urge to snap at everyone in the room. it was becoming increasingly louder, people talking over one another and spewing ideas that she wouldn't even dare consider. it was finally over and she could breathe once again.

"My day was... bearable. But I suppose yours proved once again that even charity can become a weapon in the wrong hands. Come, before you murder someone else with your gaze. At home, there's hot tea and no people who believe that loudness replaces competence."

His gaze slid searchingly over her face, her flushed cheeks, the tiny snowflake caught in her eyelashes. He gently raised his hand and...

    she took his arm, leaning close to him to shield herself from the cold. she loved this time of year, despite the cold biting at her face. she smiled up at him, unusually soft as she watched snow fall onto him, getting caught in strands of hair. she kept his pace, they were taking their time and taking in the day. at least she was.

"You'll get all wet and then complain later that you're cold,"

he said quietly, but without reproach. His voice had that calm, almost velvety tone he only used when he felt unobserved. There was a hint of gentle mockery in it, but his eyes betrayed something else—a rare, subdued tenderness that he would hardly admit to himself. He glanced briefly at the dog, then back at her, and as she straightened up, he offered her his arm without another word.

"Come on. Before you get the idea to adopt the next stray dog and let it move into our bedroom,"

he murmured, gently pulling her back to his side, closer than necessary perhaps. He said "our" as a matter of course, as if it had always been that way. The snow crunched under their footsteps, and Coriolanus glanced down at her briefly as a few flakes landed on her cheek.

"You're smiling a lot today. Almost as if you've forgotten that we live in Panem."

    ❛       but imagine how cute a puppy would be.      ❜     she tried to ignore how her heart fluttered at the casual way he said our bedroom. it was an unfamiliar feeling, one she had worked so hard to prevent. he pulled her closer to his side and to her own surprise she didn’t pull away. she wouldn’t admit it—not even to herself—but she enjoyed the closeness. she’d chalk it up to the cold.

"You really are incorrigible, Livia. A puppy. On our bed. With its cute little paw prints all over the silk sheets you love so much. Do you know what I imagine? How you wake up in the morning, completely disheveled, with this little monster on your chest, drooling on your face... and you smile anyway. Because you love him too much to ever give him back. Maybe I'll take a look at those litters you keep talking about next week. But only because I want to see how long it takes you to name one after me. And because I want to see you smile. Really smile. Without hiding it behind sarcasm."

"Am I really reconsidering?"

he repeated in a deep, calm voice, as if the question were the most natural thing in the world. He didn't look down at her immediately; instead, he let his gaze wander over the snow-covered avenue, as if searching for the right answer there, before finally lowering it to her. A fine flake of snow had caught in her eyelashes again. Coriolanus raised his hand, slowly this time, almost hesitantly, and gently stroked it with his thumb, as if he wanted to melt the flakes before they could touch her cheeks.

"I've hardly thought of anything else since you mentioned the dog earlier. A big, stupid guy with floppy ears who follows you everywhere and growls at me because he knows full well that I would rather have you than him..."

His voice had that rare, almost vulnerable tone that only she ever got to hear. He broke off, laughing briefly and hoarsely, as if surprised by his own confession. Then his gaze became serious again, piercing. His fingers slid from her cheek to a strand of hair that had come loose from her braid and gently tucked it behind her ear.

"I'm not just thinking about it, Livia. I've already decided that I want to see this picture, you, sleepy, with tousled hair and a dog that's much too big next to you, every single morning. Until you eventually get fed up with me and set the dog on me yourself. And if that never happens... then I've won anyway."

    would rather have you. it echoed in her mind, the words brought a sparkle to her eyes. the way he spoke was as if he had thought so carefully about it for months—no, as if he were reciting a scene that had already played out. she couldn’t hide her own smile, she was beaming. if you’d told her months ago that this is where she stood with coriolanus she would only scold you. for some odd reason she was allowing him in, letting him see a side of her she long thought gone.

    he continued describing how it would be as if he had lived it before. his hand brushing a loose strand back behind her ear—she hadn’t even noticed. she was too focused on the man in front of her, the one who was somehow making her melt in the midst of snowfall. she listened intently as if he were sharing something of extreme importance, her smile didn’t falter once. his laugh was rare and yet was like music to her ears.     ❛       well, now we have to get a dog.      ❜     she teased, emotions were hard to convey in words.

"Coriolanus as a dog's name?"

he repeated slowly, his voice deep, almost dangerously gentle. He took a step closer until the distance between them was little more than a breath. The snowfall suddenly seemed to slow, as if wanting to capture this moment. His free hand rose, brushing a snowflake from her cheek, gently but with a possessiveness he no longer hid.

"Do you know what happens when you give an animal my name, Livia? Then it belongs to me. Just like everything else that bears that name. And I don't share. Not my bed. Not my name. And certainly not you."

    his gentle yet blatantly possessive touch sent heat to her cheeks, flushing as he did so. she resisted the urge to lean into his touch, wanting to press her cheek into the warmth of his palm. she took in his features—they were sharp yet handsome, his hair had snow in it, and his eyes had a certain glint in them.

    eyes widened as he made note of not sharing—well, she knew that already, but he said he wouldn’t share her. she found herself questioning if he was feeling alright but didn’t say it aloud, her eyes said it for her. her lips parted as if to speak but no words came out, she simply blinked up at him. he leaned closer, enough to press his forehead to her own then just as quickly he pulled away. how typical of him to say such things and pretend as if nothing was said, a huff escaped her as she gave him a glance.

    she remained close to his side, keeping up with his strides. what was she to even say about the exchange? she was still puzzled by it all, mostly she was scolding herself for the fact it had such an impact on her. she promised herself that this would be nothing more than a strategy for political gain, that was the initial plan—but now all she could think of was his eyes on her and the words he so carefully whispered to her, how her body and mine reacted to all of it. she’d sworn off giving in to feelings like this but he made it hard.

"Finally..."

His voice had that deep, calm tone that brooked no contradiction, but also carried no coldness. He raised his hand, this time without hesitation, and brushed a wet strand of hair from her face that had come loose from her braid. His fingers slid lower, under her chin, lifting it so that she had to look at him.

"You said it's freezing cold. Then let's make sure you get warm."

A barely noticeable smile, sharp as a knife but warm as embers, crossed his lips. Without waiting for her answer, he turned, walked ahead into the salon, and knelt in front of the fireplace. With confident, practiced movements, he added new wood, stoked the embers until the flames leapt up and bathed the room in golden light. Only then did he straighten up again, pull the heavy coat from his shoulders, and throw it over an armchair. He turned to her, leaned his hips against the mantelpiece, and looked at her. Long. Openly. Without the mask he wore outside.

"Come here, Livia."

The flames cast dancing shadows on his face, and in his eyes was something she had only suspected outside in the snow: no strategy. No game. But something that had long since escaped its own rules.

"A gentleman... Maybe I am tonight. Just for you. Livia... You should know that I rarely do anything without knowing where it will lead. And yet, here I am, letting you look at me as if I were... just a man. Stay tonight. Not because the storm is raging. But because I want you to. And because I believe... that you want to too."

    ❛       where else would i go, coriolanus? i live with you.      ❜     she couldn’t help but chuckle at his words, her hands resting in front of her, wringing them as she took in the moment. everything felt so surreal, it was something new and something she could get used to. yet something made her bristle, maybe she shouldn’t get used to this. how often would he dare show this side of himself? would it be like pulling teeth trying to get his affection at any other time?

    her head tilted as the silky strand of her hair slipped from his fingers. he stepped away and she immediately followed, no time wasted when she took his hand in her own. she squeezed his hand, the warmth of his hand was a contrast to the coldness of her own. it was comforting, when did he become so comforting like this? she was second guessing a lot of it—but the look in his eyes showed a genuine ... a genuine what? she couldn’t quite name the look in his eyes but it sent a heat to her cheeks.

"Beautiful, you say?"

His voice was deep, almost whispering, as if he were savoring the word like a drop of poison that he nevertheless couldn't resist. He tilted his head, scrutinizing her with that cold, piercing gaze that was otherwise reserved for opponents—and yet today there was something else in it, something he himself didn't quite want to name.

"That's new and dangerous."

Slowly, he lifted her clasped hands, brought them to his lips, and let them rest there for a heartbeat—not really a kiss, just a hint, warm and deliberate. His eyes never left hers, drilling into them as if to see if she would flinch.

"You should be careful, Livia, when you look at me like that... and say things like that... I might start to believe it. And then it gets complicated."

He sat up again, gently but firmly pulling her a little closer until her forehead almost touched his. The warmth of the fire was reflected in his face, but behind it lurked the old, familiar coldness – only tonight it seemed a little more distant.

"...tonight I'll let you win."

    his hands were warm, she didn’t want to let go. she inhaled sharply at his words, he should believe it! she meant every word she said, otherwise she wouldn’t have said a word. she was starting to mentally reprimanded herself for being so stupid in sharing her honest feelings.

    ❛       coriolanus, believe what i say. i would not say it if i hadn’t meant it, you know that.      ❜     she firmly stated, pressing her forehead to his. her eyes shut as if she could somehow mentally sway him. she let go of his hands and pressed them to his chest.

"Livia, I hear you. I hear every single word, and I know you mean it. That makes it... harder."

His voice was deeper than usual, rough around the edges, as if he had to pull each word out of a locked chamber in his chest. He lowered his head until his forehead touched hers again, a gesture that seemed almost tender but was tinged with infinite weariness.

"I'm not cold because I want to hurt you. I'm cold because I have no other choice if I want to survive, if I want to protect both of us from what is yet to come. You see a man pushing you away. But I... I'm only pushing away what could break me before I even have a chance to be something worthy of you. I wish I could give you what you imagine. That life you talk about... warm, open, without walls. I imagined it once, too. A long time ago. But that was before I understood that everyone I really let in will pay for it sooner or later."

His fingers closed a little tighter around her arms, not painfully, but as if he needed this support to continue speaking. He lifted his head a little, just enough to look her in the eyes, and this time there was no glass wall between them, only a deep, painful honesty.

"You will be my wife, Livia. And I will do everything I can to ensure that you never regret standing by my side. But I cannot give you my heart. Not because you are not worthy, but because I no longer have one that is whole. If you still want me... despite everything... then stay. But do not hate me if I cannot give you what you dream of."

    he spoke of once imagining what she had spoke of, how only half his heart remained. she knew what—no, who—he was talking about and it only made her heart sink. she wasn’t dense, she never let anyone think that. a sense of coldness washed over her again. all the warmth in the room was gone, the fire felt distant and his skin felt cold.

    as he spoke all she could think of was her own parents, she finally realized what about this made her uneasy, what scared her. she was only becoming a spitting image of her parents. the pit in her stomach only grew, his voice felt far and suddenly she wanted to pull away. she felt stupid for trying at this, she needed to reel it in, she needed to build up the wall again.

    ❛       i understand.      ❜     she smiled, bitterly. all she could see was the boy she grew up with, the one she grew to resent and feel in constant competition with. she stepped back when he let go, distancing herself from him. he may have held her to ensure her stay but any sense of that crumbled away. any sense of the happiness that painted her face washed away in just moments.

      aggravated. livia was seething as she sat idly in a meeting, it had been constant back and forth. she was beginning to think the people before her were children, they certainly acted like it. her hand raised to her ear, messing with her earring as she resisted the urge to snap at everyone in the room. it was becoming increasingly louder, people talking over one another and spewing ideas that she wouldn't even dare consider. it was finally over and she could breathe once again.

"My day was... bearable. But I suppose yours proved once again that even charity can become a weapon in the wrong hands. Come, before you murder someone else with your gaze. At home, there's hot tea and no people who believe that loudness replaces competence."

His gaze slid searchingly over her face, her flushed cheeks, the tiny snowflake caught in her eyelashes. He gently raised his hand and...

    she took his arm, leaning close to him to shield herself from the cold. she loved this time of year, despite the cold biting at her face. she smiled up at him, unusually soft as she watched snow fall onto him, getting caught in strands of hair. she kept his pace, they were taking their time and taking in the day. at least she was.

"You'll get all wet and then complain later that you're cold,"

he said quietly, but without reproach. His voice had that calm, almost velvety tone he only used when he felt unobserved. There was a hint of gentle mockery in it, but his eyes betrayed something else—a rare, subdued tenderness that he would hardly admit to himself. He glanced briefly at the dog, then back at her, and as she straightened up, he offered her his arm without another word.

"Come on. Before you get the idea to adopt the next stray dog and let it move into our bedroom,"

he murmured, gently pulling her back to his side, closer than necessary perhaps. He said "our" as a matter of course, as if it had always been that way. The snow crunched under their footsteps, and Coriolanus glanced down at her briefly as a few flakes landed on her cheek.

"You're smiling a lot today. Almost as if you've forgotten that we live in Panem."

    ❛       but imagine how cute a puppy would be.      ❜     she tried to ignore how her heart fluttered at the casual way he said our bedroom. it was an unfamiliar feeling, one she had worked so hard to prevent. he pulled her closer to his side and to her own surprise she didn’t pull away. she wouldn’t admit it—not even to herself—but she enjoyed the closeness. she’d chalk it up to the cold.

"You really are incorrigible, Livia. A puppy. On our bed. With its cute little paw prints all over the silk sheets you love so much. Do you know what I imagine? How you wake up in the morning, completely disheveled, with this little monster on your chest, drooling on your face... and you smile anyway. Because you love him too much to ever give him back. Maybe I'll take a look at those litters you keep talking about next week. But only because I want to see how long it takes you to name one after me. And because I want to see you smile. Really smile. Without hiding it behind sarcasm."

"Am I really reconsidering?"

he repeated in a deep, calm voice, as if the question were the most natural thing in the world. He didn't look down at her immediately; instead, he let his gaze wander over the snow-covered avenue, as if searching for the right answer there, before finally lowering it to her. A fine flake of snow had caught in her eyelashes again. Coriolanus raised his hand, slowly this time, almost hesitantly, and gently stroked it with his thumb, as if he wanted to melt the flakes before they could touch her cheeks.

"I've hardly thought of anything else since you mentioned the dog earlier. A big, stupid guy with floppy ears who follows you everywhere and growls at me because he knows full well that I would rather have you than him..."

His voice had that rare, almost vulnerable tone that only she ever got to hear. He broke off, laughing briefly and hoarsely, as if surprised by his own confession. Then his gaze became serious again, piercing. His fingers slid from her cheek to a strand of hair that had come loose from her braid and gently tucked it behind her ear.

"I'm not just thinking about it, Livia. I've already decided that I want to see this picture, you, sleepy, with tousled hair and a dog that's much too big next to you, every single morning. Until you eventually get fed up with me and set the dog on me yourself. And if that never happens... then I've won anyway."

    would rather have you. it echoed in her mind, the words brought a sparkle to her eyes. the way he spoke was as if he had thought so carefully about it for months—no, as if he were reciting a scene that had already played out. she couldn’t hide her own smile, she was beaming. if you’d told her months ago that this is where she stood with coriolanus she would only scold you. for some odd reason she was allowing him in, letting him see a side of her she long thought gone.

    he continued describing how it would be as if he had lived it before. his hand brushing a loose strand back behind her ear—she hadn’t even noticed. she was too focused on the man in front of her, the one who was somehow making her melt in the midst of snowfall. she listened intently as if he were sharing something of extreme importance, her smile didn’t falter once. his laugh was rare and yet was like music to her ears.     ❛       well, now we have to get a dog.      ❜     she teased, emotions were hard to convey in words.

"Coriolanus as a dog's name?"

he repeated slowly, his voice deep, almost dangerously gentle. He took a step closer until the distance between them was little more than a breath. The snowfall suddenly seemed to slow, as if wanting to capture this moment. His free hand rose, brushing a snowflake from her cheek, gently but with a possessiveness he no longer hid.

"Do you know what happens when you give an animal my name, Livia? Then it belongs to me. Just like everything else that bears that name. And I don't share. Not my bed. Not my name. And certainly not you."

    his gentle yet blatantly possessive touch sent heat to her cheeks, flushing as he did so. she resisted the urge to lean into his touch, wanting to press her cheek into the warmth of his palm. she took in his features—they were sharp yet handsome, his hair had snow in it, and his eyes had a certain glint in them.

    eyes widened as he made note of not sharing—well, she knew that already, but he said he wouldn’t share her. she found herself questioning if he was feeling alright but didn’t say it aloud, her eyes said it for her. her lips parted as if to speak but no words came out, she simply blinked up at him. he leaned closer, enough to press his forehead to her own then just as quickly he pulled away. how typical of him to say such things and pretend as if nothing was said, a huff escaped her as she gave him a glance.

    she remained close to his side, keeping up with his strides. what was she to even say about the exchange? she was still puzzled by it all, mostly she was scolding herself for the fact it had such an impact on her. she promised herself that this would be nothing more than a strategy for political gain, that was the initial plan—but now all she could think of was his eyes on her and the words he so carefully whispered to her, how her body and mine reacted to all of it. she’d sworn off giving in to feelings like this but he made it hard.

"Finally..."

His voice had that deep, calm tone that brooked no contradiction, but also carried no coldness. He raised his hand, this time without hesitation, and brushed a wet strand of hair from her face that had come loose from her braid. His fingers slid lower, under her chin, lifting it so that she had to look at him.

"You said it's freezing cold. Then let's make sure you get warm."

A barely noticeable smile, sharp as a knife but warm as embers, crossed his lips. Without waiting for her answer, he turned, walked ahead into the salon, and knelt in front of the fireplace. With confident, practiced movements, he added new wood, stoked the embers until the flames leapt up and bathed the room in golden light. Only then did he straighten up again, pull the heavy coat from his shoulders, and throw it over an armchair. He turned to her, leaned his hips against the mantelpiece, and looked at her. Long. Openly. Without the mask he wore outside.

"Come here, Livia."

The flames cast dancing shadows on his face, and in his eyes was something she had only suspected outside in the snow: no strategy. No game. But something that had long since escaped its own rules.

"A gentleman... Maybe I am tonight. Just for you. Livia... You should know that I rarely do anything without knowing where it will lead. And yet, here I am, letting you look at me as if I were... just a man. Stay tonight. Not because the storm is raging. But because I want you to. And because I believe... that you want to too."

    ❛       where else would i go, coriolanus? i live with you.      ❜     she couldn’t help but chuckle at his words, her hands resting in front of her, wringing them as she took in the moment. everything felt so surreal, it was something new and something she could get used to. yet something made her bristle, maybe she shouldn’t get used to this. how often would he dare show this side of himself? would it be like pulling teeth trying to get his affection at any other time?

    her head tilted as the silky strand of her hair slipped from his fingers. he stepped away and she immediately followed, no time wasted when she took his hand in her own. she squeezed his hand, the warmth of his hand was a contrast to the coldness of her own. it was comforting, when did he become so comforting like this? she was second guessing a lot of it—but the look in his eyes showed a genuine ... a genuine what? she couldn’t quite name the look in his eyes but it sent a heat to her cheeks.

"Beautiful, you say?"

His voice was deep, almost whispering, as if he were savoring the word like a drop of poison that he nevertheless couldn't resist. He tilted his head, scrutinizing her with that cold, piercing gaze that was otherwise reserved for opponents—and yet today there was something else in it, something he himself didn't quite want to name.

"That's new and dangerous."

Slowly, he lifted her clasped hands, brought them to his lips, and let them rest there for a heartbeat—not really a kiss, just a hint, warm and deliberate. His eyes never left hers, drilling into them as if to see if she would flinch.

"You should be careful, Livia, when you look at me like that... and say things like that... I might start to believe it. And then it gets complicated."

He sat up again, gently but firmly pulling her a little closer until her forehead almost touched his. The warmth of the fire was reflected in his face, but behind it lurked the old, familiar coldness – only tonight it seemed a little more distant.

"...tonight I'll let you win."

    his hands were warm, she didn’t want to let go. she inhaled sharply at his words, he should believe it! she meant every word she said, otherwise she wouldn’t have said a word. she was starting to mentally reprimanded herself for being so stupid in sharing her honest feelings.

    ❛       coriolanus, believe what i say. i would not say it if i hadn’t meant it, you know that.      ❜     she firmly stated, pressing her forehead to his. her eyes shut as if she could somehow mentally sway him. she let go of his hands and pressed them to his chest.

      aggravated. livia was seething as she sat idly in a meeting, it had been constant back and forth. she was beginning to think the people before her were children, they certainly acted like it. her hand raised to her ear, messing with her earring as she resisted the urge to snap at everyone in the room. it was becoming increasingly louder, people talking over one another and spewing ideas that she wouldn't even dare consider. it was finally over and she could breathe once again.

"My day was... bearable. But I suppose yours proved once again that even charity can become a weapon in the wrong hands. Come, before you murder someone else with your gaze. At home, there's hot tea and no people who believe that loudness replaces competence."

His gaze slid searchingly over her face, her flushed cheeks, the tiny snowflake caught in her eyelashes. He gently raised his hand and...

    she took his arm, leaning close to him to shield herself from the cold. she loved this time of year, despite the cold biting at her face. she smiled up at him, unusually soft as she watched snow fall onto him, getting caught in strands of hair. she kept his pace, they were taking their time and taking in the day. at least she was.

"You'll get all wet and then complain later that you're cold,"

he said quietly, but without reproach. His voice had that calm, almost velvety tone he only used when he felt unobserved. There was a hint of gentle mockery in it, but his eyes betrayed something else—a rare, subdued tenderness that he would hardly admit to himself. He glanced briefly at the dog, then back at her, and as she straightened up, he offered her his arm without another word.

"Come on. Before you get the idea to adopt the next stray dog and let it move into our bedroom,"

he murmured, gently pulling her back to his side, closer than necessary perhaps. He said "our" as a matter of course, as if it had always been that way. The snow crunched under their footsteps, and Coriolanus glanced down at her briefly as a few flakes landed on her cheek.

"You're smiling a lot today. Almost as if you've forgotten that we live in Panem."

    ❛       but imagine how cute a puppy would be.      ❜     she tried to ignore how her heart fluttered at the casual way he said our bedroom. it was an unfamiliar feeling, one she had worked so hard to prevent. he pulled her closer to his side and to her own surprise she didn’t pull away. she wouldn’t admit it—not even to herself—but she enjoyed the closeness. she’d chalk it up to the cold.

"You really are incorrigible, Livia. A puppy. On our bed. With its cute little paw prints all over the silk sheets you love so much. Do you know what I imagine? How you wake up in the morning, completely disheveled, with this little monster on your chest, drooling on your face... and you smile anyway. Because you love him too much to ever give him back. Maybe I'll take a look at those litters you keep talking about next week. But only because I want to see how long it takes you to name one after me. And because I want to see you smile. Really smile. Without hiding it behind sarcasm."

"Am I really reconsidering?"

he repeated in a deep, calm voice, as if the question were the most natural thing in the world. He didn't look down at her immediately; instead, he let his gaze wander over the snow-covered avenue, as if searching for the right answer there, before finally lowering it to her. A fine flake of snow had caught in her eyelashes again. Coriolanus raised his hand, slowly this time, almost hesitantly, and gently stroked it with his thumb, as if he wanted to melt the flakes before they could touch her cheeks.

"I've hardly thought of anything else since you mentioned the dog earlier. A big, stupid guy with floppy ears who follows you everywhere and growls at me because he knows full well that I would rather have you than him..."

His voice had that rare, almost vulnerable tone that only she ever got to hear. He broke off, laughing briefly and hoarsely, as if surprised by his own confession. Then his gaze became serious again, piercing. His fingers slid from her cheek to a strand of hair that had come loose from her braid and gently tucked it behind her ear.

"I'm not just thinking about it, Livia. I've already decided that I want to see this picture, you, sleepy, with tousled hair and a dog that's much too big next to you, every single morning. Until you eventually get fed up with me and set the dog on me yourself. And if that never happens... then I've won anyway."

    would rather have you. it echoed in her mind, the words brought a sparkle to her eyes. the way he spoke was as if he had thought so carefully about it for months—no, as if he were reciting a scene that had already played out. she couldn’t hide her own smile, she was beaming. if you’d told her months ago that this is where she stood with coriolanus she would only scold you. for some odd reason she was allowing him in, letting him see a side of her she long thought gone.

    he continued describing how it would be as if he had lived it before. his hand brushing a loose strand back behind her ear—she hadn’t even noticed. she was too focused on the man in front of her, the one who was somehow making her melt in the midst of snowfall. she listened intently as if he were sharing something of extreme importance, her smile didn’t falter once. his laugh was rare and yet was like music to her ears.     ❛       well, now we have to get a dog.      ❜     she teased, emotions were hard to convey in words.

"Coriolanus as a dog's name?"

he repeated slowly, his voice deep, almost dangerously gentle. He took a step closer until the distance between them was little more than a breath. The snowfall suddenly seemed to slow, as if wanting to capture this moment. His free hand rose, brushing a snowflake from her cheek, gently but with a possessiveness he no longer hid.

"Do you know what happens when you give an animal my name, Livia? Then it belongs to me. Just like everything else that bears that name. And I don't share. Not my bed. Not my name. And certainly not you."

    his gentle yet blatantly possessive touch sent heat to her cheeks, flushing as he did so. she resisted the urge to lean into his touch, wanting to press her cheek into the warmth of his palm. she took in his features—they were sharp yet handsome, his hair had snow in it, and his eyes had a certain glint in them.

    eyes widened as he made note of not sharing—well, she knew that already, but he said he wouldn’t share her. she found herself questioning if he was feeling alright but didn’t say it aloud, her eyes said it for her. her lips parted as if to speak but no words came out, she simply blinked up at him. he leaned closer, enough to press his forehead to her own then just as quickly he pulled away. how typical of him to say such things and pretend as if nothing was said, a huff escaped her as she gave him a glance.

    she remained close to his side, keeping up with his strides. what was she to even say about the exchange? she was still puzzled by it all, mostly she was scolding herself for the fact it had such an impact on her. she promised herself that this would be nothing more than a strategy for political gain, that was the initial plan—but now all she could think of was his eyes on her and the words he so carefully whispered to her, how her body and mine reacted to all of it. she’d sworn off giving in to feelings like this but he made it hard.

"Finally..."

His voice had that deep, calm tone that brooked no contradiction, but also carried no coldness. He raised his hand, this time without hesitation, and brushed a wet strand of hair from her face that had come loose from her braid. His fingers slid lower, under her chin, lifting it so that she had to look at him.

"You said it's freezing cold. Then let's make sure you get warm."

A barely noticeable smile, sharp as a knife but warm as embers, crossed his lips. Without waiting for her answer, he turned, walked ahead into the salon, and knelt in front of the fireplace. With confident, practiced movements, he added new wood, stoked the embers until the flames leapt up and bathed the room in golden light. Only then did he straighten up again, pull the heavy coat from his shoulders, and throw it over an armchair. He turned to her, leaned his hips against the mantelpiece, and looked at her. Long. Openly. Without the mask he wore outside.

"Come here, Livia."

The flames cast dancing shadows on his face, and in his eyes was something she had only suspected outside in the snow: no strategy. No game. But something that had long since escaped its own rules.

"A gentleman... Maybe I am tonight. Just for you. Livia... You should know that I rarely do anything without knowing where it will lead. And yet, here I am, letting you look at me as if I were... just a man. Stay tonight. Not because the storm is raging. But because I want you to. And because I believe... that you want to too."

    ❛       where else would i go, coriolanus? i live with you.      ❜     she couldn’t help but chuckle at his words, her hands resting in front of her, wringing them as she took in the moment. everything felt so surreal, it was something new and something she could get used to. yet something made her bristle, maybe she shouldn’t get used to this. how often would he dare show this side of himself? would it be like pulling teeth trying to get his affection at any other time?

    her head tilted as the silky strand of her hair slipped from his fingers. he stepped away and she immediately followed, no time wasted when she took his hand in her own. she squeezed his hand, the warmth of his hand was a contrast to the coldness of her own. it was comforting, when did he become so comforting like this? she was second guessing a lot of it—but the look in his eyes showed a genuine ... a genuine what? she couldn’t quite name the look in his eyes but it sent a heat to her cheeks.

      aggravated. livia was seething as she sat idly in a meeting, it had been constant back and forth. she was beginning to think the people before her were children, they certainly acted like it. her hand raised to her ear, messing with her earring as she resisted the urge to snap at everyone in the room. it was becoming increasingly louder, people talking over one another and spewing ideas that she wouldn't even dare consider. it was finally over and she could breathe once again.

"My day was... bearable. But I suppose yours proved once again that even charity can become a weapon in the wrong hands. Come, before you murder someone else with your gaze. At home, there's hot tea and no people who believe that loudness replaces competence."

His gaze slid searchingly over her face, her flushed cheeks, the tiny snowflake caught in her eyelashes. He gently raised his hand and...

    she took his arm, leaning close to him to shield herself from the cold. she loved this time of year, despite the cold biting at her face. she smiled up at him, unusually soft as she watched snow fall onto him, getting caught in strands of hair. she kept his pace, they were taking their time and taking in the day. at least she was.

"You'll get all wet and then complain later that you're cold,"

he said quietly, but without reproach. His voice had that calm, almost velvety tone he only used when he felt unobserved. There was a hint of gentle mockery in it, but his eyes betrayed something else—a rare, subdued tenderness that he would hardly admit to himself. He glanced briefly at the dog, then back at her, and as she straightened up, he offered her his arm without another word.

"Come on. Before you get the idea to adopt the next stray dog and let it move into our bedroom,"

he murmured, gently pulling her back to his side, closer than necessary perhaps. He said "our" as a matter of course, as if it had always been that way. The snow crunched under their footsteps, and Coriolanus glanced down at her briefly as a few flakes landed on her cheek.

"You're smiling a lot today. Almost as if you've forgotten that we live in Panem."

    ❛       but imagine how cute a puppy would be.      ❜     she tried to ignore how her heart fluttered at the casual way he said our bedroom. it was an unfamiliar feeling, one she had worked so hard to prevent. he pulled her closer to his side and to her own surprise she didn’t pull away. she wouldn’t admit it—not even to herself—but she enjoyed the closeness. she’d chalk it up to the cold.

"You really are incorrigible, Livia. A puppy. On our bed. With its cute little paw prints all over the silk sheets you love so much. Do you know what I imagine? How you wake up in the morning, completely disheveled, with this little monster on your chest, drooling on your face... and you smile anyway. Because you love him too much to ever give him back. Maybe I'll take a look at those litters you keep talking about next week. But only because I want to see how long it takes you to name one after me. And because I want to see you smile. Really smile. Without hiding it behind sarcasm."

"Am I really reconsidering?"

he repeated in a deep, calm voice, as if the question were the most natural thing in the world. He didn't look down at her immediately; instead, he let his gaze wander over the snow-covered avenue, as if searching for the right answer there, before finally lowering it to her. A fine flake of snow had caught in her eyelashes again. Coriolanus raised his hand, slowly this time, almost hesitantly, and gently stroked it with his thumb, as if he wanted to melt the flakes before they could touch her cheeks.

"I've hardly thought of anything else since you mentioned the dog earlier. A big, stupid guy with floppy ears who follows you everywhere and growls at me because he knows full well that I would rather have you than him..."

His voice had that rare, almost vulnerable tone that only she ever got to hear. He broke off, laughing briefly and hoarsely, as if surprised by his own confession. Then his gaze became serious again, piercing. His fingers slid from her cheek to a strand of hair that had come loose from her braid and gently tucked it behind her ear.

"I'm not just thinking about it, Livia. I've already decided that I want to see this picture, you, sleepy, with tousled hair and a dog that's much too big next to you, every single morning. Until you eventually get fed up with me and set the dog on me yourself. And if that never happens... then I've won anyway."

    would rather have you. it echoed in her mind, the words brought a sparkle to her eyes. the way he spoke was as if he had thought so carefully about it for months—no, as if he were reciting a scene that had already played out. she couldn’t hide her own smile, she was beaming. if you’d told her months ago that this is where she stood with coriolanus she would only scold you. for some odd reason she was allowing him in, letting him see a side of her she long thought gone.

    he continued describing how it would be as if he had lived it before. his hand brushing a loose strand back behind her ear—she hadn’t even noticed. she was too focused on the man in front of her, the one who was somehow making her melt in the midst of snowfall. she listened intently as if he were sharing something of extreme importance, her smile didn’t falter once. his laugh was rare and yet was like music to her ears.     ❛       well, now we have to get a dog.      ❜     she teased, emotions were hard to convey in words.

"Coriolanus as a dog's name?"

he repeated slowly, his voice deep, almost dangerously gentle. He took a step closer until the distance between them was little more than a breath. The snowfall suddenly seemed to slow, as if wanting to capture this moment. His free hand rose, brushing a snowflake from her cheek, gently but with a possessiveness he no longer hid.

"Do you know what happens when you give an animal my name, Livia? Then it belongs to me. Just like everything else that bears that name. And I don't share. Not my bed. Not my name. And certainly not you."

    his gentle yet blatantly possessive touch sent heat to her cheeks, flushing as he did so. she resisted the urge to lean into his touch, wanting to press her cheek into the warmth of his palm. she took in his features—they were sharp yet handsome, his hair had snow in it, and his eyes had a certain glint in them.

    eyes widened as he made note of not sharing—well, she knew that already, but he said he wouldn’t share her. she found herself questioning if he was feeling alright but didn’t say it aloud, her eyes said it for her. her lips parted as if to speak but no words came out, she simply blinked up at him. he leaned closer, enough to press his forehead to her own then just as quickly he pulled away. how typical of him to say such things and pretend as if nothing was said, a huff escaped her as she gave him a glance.

    she remained close to his side, keeping up with his strides. what was she to even say about the exchange? she was still puzzled by it all, mostly she was scolding herself for the fact it had such an impact on her. she promised herself that this would be nothing more than a strategy for political gain, that was the initial plan—but now all she could think of was his eyes on her and the words he so carefully whispered to her, how her body and mine reacted to all of it. she’d sworn off giving in to feelings like this but he made it hard.

"Finally..."

His voice had that deep, calm tone that brooked no contradiction, but also carried no coldness. He raised his hand, this time without hesitation, and brushed a wet strand of hair from her face that had come loose from her braid. His fingers slid lower, under her chin, lifting it so that she had to look at him.

"You said it's freezing cold. Then let's make sure you get warm."

A barely noticeable smile, sharp as a knife but warm as embers, crossed his lips. Without waiting for her answer, he turned, walked ahead into the salon, and knelt in front of the fireplace. With confident, practiced movements, he added new wood, stoked the embers until the flames leapt up and bathed the room in golden light. Only then did he straighten up again, pull the heavy coat from his shoulders, and throw it over an armchair. He turned to her, leaned his hips against the mantelpiece, and looked at her. Long. Openly. Without the mask he wore outside.

"Come here, Livia."

The flames cast dancing shadows on his face, and in his eyes was something she had only suspected outside in the snow: no strategy. No game. But something that had long since escaped its own rules.

      aggravated. livia was seething as she sat idly in a meeting, it had been constant back and forth. she was beginning to think the people before her were children, they certainly acted like it. her hand raised to her ear, messing with her earring as she resisted the urge to snap at everyone in the room. it was becoming increasingly louder, people talking over one another and spewing ideas that she wouldn't even dare consider. it was finally over and she could breathe once again.

"My day was... bearable. But I suppose yours proved once again that even charity can become a weapon in the wrong hands. Come, before you murder someone else with your gaze. At home, there's hot tea and no people who believe that loudness replaces competence."

His gaze slid searchingly over her face, her flushed cheeks, the tiny snowflake caught in her eyelashes. He gently raised his hand and...

    she took his arm, leaning close to him to shield herself from the cold. she loved this time of year, despite the cold biting at her face. she smiled up at him, unusually soft as she watched snow fall onto him, getting caught in strands of hair. she kept his pace, they were taking their time and taking in the day. at least she was.

"You'll get all wet and then complain later that you're cold,"

he said quietly, but without reproach. His voice had that calm, almost velvety tone he only used when he felt unobserved. There was a hint of gentle mockery in it, but his eyes betrayed something else—a rare, subdued tenderness that he would hardly admit to himself. He glanced briefly at the dog, then back at her, and as she straightened up, he offered her his arm without another word.

"Come on. Before you get the idea to adopt the next stray dog and let it move into our bedroom,"

he murmured, gently pulling her back to his side, closer than necessary perhaps. He said "our" as a matter of course, as if it had always been that way. The snow crunched under their footsteps, and Coriolanus glanced down at her briefly as a few flakes landed on her cheek.

"You're smiling a lot today. Almost as if you've forgotten that we live in Panem."

    ❛       but imagine how cute a puppy would be.      ❜     she tried to ignore how her heart fluttered at the casual way he said our bedroom. it was an unfamiliar feeling, one she had worked so hard to prevent. he pulled her closer to his side and to her own surprise she didn’t pull away. she wouldn’t admit it—not even to herself—but she enjoyed the closeness. she’d chalk it up to the cold.

"You really are incorrigible, Livia. A puppy. On our bed. With its cute little paw prints all over the silk sheets you love so much. Do you know what I imagine? How you wake up in the morning, completely disheveled, with this little monster on your chest, drooling on your face... and you smile anyway. Because you love him too much to ever give him back. Maybe I'll take a look at those litters you keep talking about next week. But only because I want to see how long it takes you to name one after me. And because I want to see you smile. Really smile. Without hiding it behind sarcasm."

"Am I really reconsidering?"

he repeated in a deep, calm voice, as if the question were the most natural thing in the world. He didn't look down at her immediately; instead, he let his gaze wander over the snow-covered avenue, as if searching for the right answer there, before finally lowering it to her. A fine flake of snow had caught in her eyelashes again. Coriolanus raised his hand, slowly this time, almost hesitantly, and gently stroked it with his thumb, as if he wanted to melt the flakes before they could touch her cheeks.

"I've hardly thought of anything else since you mentioned the dog earlier. A big, stupid guy with floppy ears who follows you everywhere and growls at me because he knows full well that I would rather have you than him..."

His voice had that rare, almost vulnerable tone that only she ever got to hear. He broke off, laughing briefly and hoarsely, as if surprised by his own confession. Then his gaze became serious again, piercing. His fingers slid from her cheek to a strand of hair that had come loose from her braid and gently tucked it behind her ear.

"I'm not just thinking about it, Livia. I've already decided that I want to see this picture, you, sleepy, with tousled hair and a dog that's much too big next to you, every single morning. Until you eventually get fed up with me and set the dog on me yourself. And if that never happens... then I've won anyway."

    would rather have you. it echoed in her mind, the words brought a sparkle to her eyes. the way he spoke was as if he had thought so carefully about it for months—no, as if he were reciting a scene that had already played out. she couldn’t hide her own smile, she was beaming. if you’d told her months ago that this is where she stood with coriolanus she would only scold you. for some odd reason she was allowing him in, letting him see a side of her she long thought gone.

    he continued describing how it would be as if he had lived it before. his hand brushing a loose strand back behind her ear—she hadn’t even noticed. she was too focused on the man in front of her, the one who was somehow making her melt in the midst of snowfall. she listened intently as if he were sharing something of extreme importance, her smile didn’t falter once. his laugh was rare and yet was like music to her ears.     ❛       well, now we have to get a dog.      ❜     she teased, emotions were hard to convey in words.

"Coriolanus as a dog's name?"

he repeated slowly, his voice deep, almost dangerously gentle. He took a step closer until the distance between them was little more than a breath. The snowfall suddenly seemed to slow, as if wanting to capture this moment. His free hand rose, brushing a snowflake from her cheek, gently but with a possessiveness he no longer hid.

"Do you know what happens when you give an animal my name, Livia? Then it belongs to me. Just like everything else that bears that name. And I don't share. Not my bed. Not my name. And certainly not you."

    his gentle yet blatantly possessive touch sent heat to her cheeks, flushing as he did so. she resisted the urge to lean into his touch, wanting to press her cheek into the warmth of his palm. she took in his features—they were sharp yet handsome, his hair had snow in it, and his eyes had a certain glint in them.

    eyes widened as he made note of not sharing—well, she knew that already, but he said he wouldn’t share her. she found herself questioning if he was feeling alright but didn’t say it aloud, her eyes said it for her. her lips parted as if to speak but no words came out, she simply blinked up at him. he leaned closer, enough to press his forehead to her own then just as quickly he pulled away. how typical of him to say such things and pretend as if nothing was said, a huff escaped her as she gave him a glance.

    she remained close to his side, keeping up with his strides. what was she to even say about the exchange? she was still puzzled by it all, mostly she was scolding herself for the fact it had such an impact on her. she promised herself that this would be nothing more than a strategy for political gain, that was the initial plan—but now all she could think of was his eyes on her and the words he so carefully whispered to her, how her body and mine reacted to all of it. she’d sworn off giving in to feelings like this but he made it hard.