#coriolanus angst

So you’d wake up in his arms, him holding you close as if somebody would take you from him. You found it endearing, just how possessive Coriolanus was over you. It wasn’t just in the way he held you; it was in the way he made sure you looked and felt your best at every event, so that he hold a hand on your waist and boast his wife’s beauty. It was in the way he spoiled you in just about every aspect, dipping you in diamonds and rubies, keeping your appearance manicured with days at the spa, keeping your every need satisfied, physical or emotional. Doting on you the best he could while running the damn country, loving you like a good husband should.

Except that his love was a bit inconvenient at the moment, as you tried to move from his arms and his grip only tightened. You felt a recognizable bile rising up, a sick feeling taking over your gut. Coriolanus grumbled, his brows drawing and eyes impossibly more blue in the morning as they opened a crack. “Darling..? Where…”

You peeled his arms away from you, and this time Coryo let you go. His expression was twisted in confusion as you jumped to your feet, hand clasped over your mouth as you beelined for the bathroom connected to the bedroom. Oh. He stumbled out of bed, rubbing the sleep from his eyes and making his way to the bathroom to soothe you. He picked up the pace as he heard you retching.

Coriolanus knelt beside you, gathering up your smooth tresses and holding the hair back from your face in a ponytail. His other hand rubbed your back with a strong palm. “There you go, there you go. Get it out.”

God, you wouldn’t be surprised if you threw up an intestine. It felt like eternity before you got everything out of your system. “Sorry.” You croaked, wincing and sitting back on your calves.

“Why are you sorry? You can’t control it.” Coryo cooed, the hand holding your hair moving to the side of your head and pressing a kiss to your crown. His forehead creased after a moment though, he leaned away to grab you a towel. He watched you wipe your mouth before speaking hesitantly. “My love?”

“Mhm.” You hummed, swallowing hard and grimacing at the sour taste on your tongue.

“Do you think you ate something bad?” Coryo murmured, his voice suddenly dropping to a whisper. You met his eyes. You knew what he was really asking.

You pressed your lips thoughtfully. “I don’t know.” It seemed unlikely, you weren’t one to get sick at a whim. And you’d eaten rather healthy yesterday.

You two had been.. trying. To say the least. Coriolanus was very eager for a family, as were you. Baby fever actually had a strong hold on you. But you hadn’t realized how difficult it would be. Coryo and you went to the best doctor he could get his hands on, and his meticulous nature led to keeping track of your schedule, the windows where you’d be most fertile. You never grew tired of intimacy with him, but every negative test was daunting. Every vitamin and supplement was growing tiring to keep tabs on.

For months this went on. You couldn’t help feeling that you were failing Coriolanus. He wanted a baby so terribly, and your body just wouldn’t seem to work with you. Whispers were beginning to spread around high society women, questioning why a marriage of four years had yet to produce babies. You were questioning it yourself.

“My love, it’s okay.” Coryo had cooed, folding you into his arms the first night you’d cried to him about the cruel gossip about your marriage and your “failings” as a wife. He shook his head passionately, showering you with kisses. “I love you. A baby will come in time.”

You’d sniffled, burying your face and hiding your eyes into his chest. “But why won’t it come now? We’ve been doing everything right, Coryo, at this point it has to be me.”

Coryo sighed, his arms squeezing you tighter. You were perfect in his eyes, whether or not your body was sustaining a baby didn’t matter to him. He loved you regardless, and he told you so. “Just trust me. You’ll get pregnant when time is right for us. I love you, we have plenty of time.” Coriolanus took your chin in his fingers, tilting up your chin to press his lips to your forehead tenderly.

It seemed that the time was finally right for you. A broad smile spread over Coriolanus’ lips, his hands moving to cup your cheeks. You laughed a bit breathlessly.

“I’ll call the doctor.” Coryo cooed, pressing his lips between your brows. He hummed against your forehead, murmuring after a moment, “I love you. You know that?”

“I know.” You breathed, finding his bare arm and squeezing it affectionately as he pulled away. “I love you.”

The moments the words “You’re pregnant, Mrs. Snow,” slipped from the doctors lips, Coriolanus was changing gears.

He was coaxing you into coming with him to buy baby clothes the very next day. The day after that, you discovered that one of the rooms neighboring your bedroom was being renovated into a nursery. Coryo was delighted when a package he sent his secretary for came in, he’d hurried to find you wherever you’d been and showed you a box full of brand new baby toys. Plush bears, rattles, another large box holding a rocking chair; you wondered how your baby would even get around to using it all.

“You’re spoiling it before it’s even born!” You teased one day as he happily presented a soft muslin baby blanket.

“Damn right.” Coryo had smiled broadly, pressing a kiss to your cheekbone, correcting you, “I’m spoiling her.”

“Girls?” You cocked a brow, slipping a hand into his gelled-locks and probably messing up his styling. He didn’t care. “I’m confident it’s a girl, my love. And I live to spoil my girls.”

His attention didn’t only apply to the baby. You were his top priority these days; he took more time away from his work to dote on your every whim. Coryo was holding your hair back every morning you fell ill. He constantly was taking you shopping, making sure that your maternity clothes weren’t frumpy or ugly, but made you feel beautiful. He had the cooking staff preparing every craving you had.

But sooner than later, pregnancy proved itself to be difficult.

No matter what Coryo did, no matter what doctors he called in or what home remedies he found, you just wouldn’t get healthy. You were wasting away before his eyes. Your ribs jutted out from your sides, your face becoming gaunt and hollow. You simply couldn’t stomach food.

Coriolanus had never been more terrified than when a simple common flu had bedridden you for days. Your immune system was so weakened by your pregnancy, and nothing seemed to help. You looked deathly pale, just the sight of you was enough to bring Coryo to tears. Though he never let you see his distress.

But dear God, he couldn’t lose you. You were scaring him, with that resigned glint in your eyes. As if you knew, and were comfortable with dying. Coriolanus was the furthest thing from comfortable.

At night, he’d run his hands along your ribs, his nose brushing yours as he watched your eyes. They’d be peacefully shut, your breathing calm from his soothing touch. Coriolanus’ hand would always end up on your belly, his thumb rubbing along the gentle curve of it under your night slip. You were featherlight nowadays, when you should’ve been full and glowing.

When your dizzy spells became too powerful to handle without laying down, Coryo called in the doctor again. He wanted a baby with you, he didn’t want this. If he knew that this would’ve been so taxing on your body, he never would’ve done this to you.

That’s how he comforted himself as the doctor left the room, leaving you to sit on the chaise at the foot of your bed and Coryo to pace about, his fingers on his lips and his eyes buggy. You’d just been warned.

This baby was life or death. If you gave birth, you might not survive. It was simply a genetic condition in your family. Nothing to be done. Except..

“We’re getting rid of it.” Coriolanus announced firmly, shaking his head. You lifted your face.

You gawked at your husband. “No!” You huffed, eyes darting around to avoid another bout of tears. Your hands were wrung in your lap, squeezing tight to the point of your knuckles paling. “Don’t even suggest it.”

“I’m not suggesting it, I’m telling you. My love, we are not keeping this baby.” Coriolanus stepped closer, standing in front of you. He outstretched his hand to tilt your chin with a finger, his eyes glimmering with something adamant.

You shook your head, grabbing Coryo’s wrist and squeezing. Your brows pinched up at him. “You aren’t serious. You can’t— you can’t force me. It’s my body.”

Your husbands expression melted like ice in a heatwave, his eyes softening. He snuck his hand around to hold yours in a tight grip. “I won’t force you. I..” Coriolanus sighed in exasperation, moving to sit beside you. His tone was earnest and as kind as he could muster. “But I can’t let you do this.”

“It’s our baby, Coryo.” You pleaded, the hand not holding his coming to rest on your belly defensively. How could he contradict himself so greatly, telling you it was your choice while making it sound like his word was final, as always?

“It will kill you.” Coriolanus hissed, suddenly to his wits end with you. His brow creased, his lips pulling over his teeth in a sneer. He shook his head adamantly. “My love, I won’t lose you for—for it.”

You couldn’t help the lump rising in your throat, making breathing suddenly quite a task. “For her.” You corrected him this time.

Coriolanus sighed, letting go of your hand and pushing himself to his feet. He had to loosen his tie, the red article suddenly suffocating. You helplessly watched him pace, rubbing his forehead in frustration. “It would be okay. I’ve already lived, I think she should get a chance.”

The absurdity of your words brought a humorless snort from Coryo’s nose. He shook his head but seemed so absorbed in his thoughts that he didn’t reply, so you went on. “And you’d have a piece of me, anyway! Coryo, you’d love her so much it’d outweigh whatever grief you’d have, you’d be so happy I went through with it, because you’d get a baby out of—“

Coriolanus was staring at you with wide and buggy eyes, as if you’d suggested he eat you alive. “How dare you say that?” Your husband snapped, stepping towards you with purpose. “How could you think I’d be able to tolerate, let alone love this baby if it killed you?” His nostrils flared in frustration and in his shining sapphire eyes, a wild kind of hurt.

At the sight of the tears welling in Coryo’s eyes, you couldn’t resist reaching for his hands with both of yours. He let you take them, he rubbed his thumbs over the backs of your hands— the ridges of your increasingly apparent bones under his fingers only adding to the wetness in his eyes. “Please.” Coriolanus murmured after a moment, his brows drawing together and creasing his forehead. “Please, my love. We can get a doctor who’ll abort it, no matter what trimester. Please.”

God, he made it sound so easy. Like it was just a procedure. It wasn’t, not to you. You desperately wanted this baby, you couldn’t just wake up to a morning without its life within you.

Perhaps he could see the indecision in your eyes. He squeezed your hands. “Please. I can’t lose you.”

You couldn’t look Coriolanus in the eyes as you shook your head. “I’m keeping it.”

You kept your gaze fixed on his dress shoes, the leather freshly polished and shiny. You didn’t look up to see the way he wiped his eyes with his knuckles, his nostrils flaring and throat bobbing. You only knew that his hands slipped from yours, his footsteps were departing from you, the door falling shut behind him.

Your due date was nearing. Coriolanus took more time to be with you, masterfully hiding the sadness behind his eyes as you mentioned anything baby-related. You thought he’d distance himself.

Completely the opposite. Though every conversation about the baby brought on a nasty argument, Coryo wasn’t too big a fool to know that you needed him right now. Regardless of his constant reminders that you two could simply adopt, you could go the surrogacy route, anything to keep you alive, you denied him. You were determined to give him a baby of his own from your body.

But no matter how many fights he’d resolve by folding you into his arms, cooing an apology and petting your hair, he knew he would never love the baby that’ll take you away from him.

Coriolanus couldn’t bear watching you waste away like this. This wasn’t what he wanted. He wanted his wife to be glowing, to be happy and full with his baby— he didn’t want to choose between his child and you. He would choose you, if you let him.

Still. You tried to maintain normalcy.

Maybe it was nature, a maternal instinct implanted deep within you, but you were willing to die for this baby. You couldn’t describe it to Coriolanus if you tried. You felt a strange calm, in the weeks leading up to the baby’s birth. Knowing that one might die, being aware of one’s expiration date, well, it was eye-opening. You took to writing down your thoughts, writing down messages to your daughter. You were still quite certain she was a she, though you were keeping the sex a surprise. Oh, you had so much to tell her!

When you told Coryo about the journal, he’d smiled gently and nodded, humming that it was a darling idea. But he left the room a minute later, coming back with eyes rubbed pink.

You were aware of how much of a toll it was taking on Coryo. But you knew it was best. You knew he deserved a baby. You deserved the pride of giving that life to him, to the world.

One day, you’d been helping your maid with folding your clothes and the towels for your bathroom. You’d insisted you help, especially because you loved to chat with her.

You were laughing with her, listening to a story she was telling. You were listening, until you felt an indescribable pain in your lower half. You’d winced, clutching the towel you’d been folding, looking down at yourself and holding your belly with your other hand.

“Mrs. Snow?” Your maid’s voice was full of concern. “Is it—“

“I don’t know.” You gasped, the pain washing over you like a wave, and leaving just as fast as it had come. “Do you think..”

“I’ll call the doctor.” She rose to her feet hesitantly, eyes wide as if you were a time bomb in her hands. You could almost laugh at her expression.

You nodded. “Don’t rush, it might not be—“ you proved yourself wrong as an immense pain knocked the words from your mouth. You fold over, groaning, and sending your maid bolting for the phone.

You’d certainly underestimated childbirth.

It was absolutely the most painful experience of your life. If you hadn’t been afraid of death up until now, you definitely were now. It was a terrifying pain, a terrifying feeling knowing that while most women were strong enough to withstand such a natural pain, you might not be.

An ambulance came to bring you from the presidential mansion to the hospital. The entire ride, screams and tears filled the tiny vehicle. You’d begged for someone to call Coriolanus, the prospect of doing this without him was daunting and downright petrifying.

When you got to the hospital room, Coryo was there, dress-shirt disheveled and hair ungelled. He’d been working at the office today. You thanked every god out there for him, as he squeezed your hand and smoothed back your hair, doing his very best to hide his fear. Your screams wrung his heart, he made sure to wipe your tears and kiss your sweaty brow.

“You’re doing great, my love.” Coriolanus cooed, letting you squeeze his hand until he was numb. You’d whimpered, the pain subsiding and crashing over you again like an ocean wave.

You’d wailed to kingdom come. “I don’t want to die, Coryo!” You’d groaned. He was grateful you weren’t paying much attention to his face, your eyes on the ceiling, otherwise you would’ve seen the way your pleading broke him.

Coryo squeezed your hand, wiping his eyes on his sleeve. “You won’t. You’ll be fine, darling, you’re doing everything right.” He’d promised, voice as assured as he could manage.

Another thing you underestimated was how stupid long the whole ordeal was.

Atleast another hour ticking by meant another hour you were alive. But it also meant another hour of searing pain, the feeling of your body betraying you and ripping itself open, tears wetting your cheeks and wails parting your lips.

Suddenly, it was like all that intense cramping and sharp pains were alleviated in a moment. As if some divine being had graciously lifted you off a bed of nails. Woozily, you lifted your head to see the baby in the nurse’s hands, another nurse cutting the ambilical cord. God, did it look rough, but it was yours. It was beautiful. You immediately reached for your baby, eyes bleary and voice hoarse, “I want to hold it.”

As if anybody would deny the First Lady. Oh, you could bawl as they lowered the baby onto your chest, who was actually bawling and crying. You laughed a bit breathlessly, eyes lifting to Coriolanus. His eyes were wide, bluer than you’d ever seen them, perhaps from the shine to them. But he’d never let his tears escape his eyes, blinking them away to lay a hand on his baby’s head, smiling stupidly.

“I made this.” You breathed, staring down at the little thing. The baby, that you glanced down to find was a girl. Your daughter.

Coriolanus nodded, pressing a lingering kiss to your temple. You could hear the smile in his voice. “You’re so strong, my love. So strong.”

“And I’m alive.” You laughed, so focused on your daughter than you didn’t notice Coryo’s sidelong glance to the sheer amount of blood between your legs. He caught the eye of a nurse, who’d given him a curt nod.

Coriolanus let out the breath he’d been holding for the past two months. “I’m infinitely grateful.” He spoke softly, reverently. He was afraid that if he said any more, he wouldn’t be able to stop.

“Isn’t she pretty?” You sighed, looking up to meet your husband’s eye. Coryo just shook his head, smiling to the point that his eyes crinkled— speaking of which, they were welling up again.

“Beautiful.” He cooed. “What’re we calling her?” Coriolanus said that last bit in a breathy chuckle, squeezing your arm gently as a nurse moved to take the baby to be cleaned. You two had spoken about names before, but never decided on something definite.

You stared after your daughter, your tears drying on your cheeks and the pain twixt your legs fading into the background. Your heart was beating, your chest rising and falling. You were alive. Oh, you went from resigning to never feel the swell of your lungs with air to filling them as much as possible.

“Ruby, I think.” You breathed. A name that Coryo had suggested, long ago, perhaps in the first months of your pregnancy. A broad smile tiptoed across his lips as he smoothed down your hair.

Coryo nosed your cheekbone, not minding the sweat lingering on your skin from the whole ordeal, mumbling against you, “A gem.”

“A gem.” You agreed, turning your cheek to press your lips to his. Oh, how you loved him. Your husband. Your lover. The father of your baby. You know he’ll be the best father— doting, loving, protective..

If the way he clutched onto your arm as you kissed, his eyes and grip betraying his anxiety was any indication of how much he cared for you, how terrified he was to lose you? Then you’d married the right man.

If the way he dutifully fluffed your pillows and got his hands on a sleeping mask was a gesture of his love? You were set for life.

If the way his sapphire eyes shone with admiration, with affection and devotion for your little daughter, swaddled in silk in her crib was a testament to the father Coriolanus would be?

Then Ruby was a lucky little girl. You were certainly a lucky woman.

Coriolanus woke up with a low groan and his back against a hard surface. He blinked through the dark surroundings while sitting up, trying to make sense of where he was and how he got there. It looked like he was in some sort of dark tunnel, but he couldn't catch sight of an exit or anything that indicated he could get out. As he forced his brain to remember what had happened before he blacked out, he heard a sarcastic voice nearby. “Well, good morning, sunshine,”

Snow turned his head in the direction of the voice, and he saw you sitting on the ground, your back against the opposite wall with folded arms. Of course, he thought. "Where are we?" He asked coolly.

“Stuck somewhere at the Capitol Arena,” You replied. “Until someone realizes we're gone, I suppose.”

Coriolanus's expression shifted as the memories from earlier came back to him all at once—the mentors and the tributes touring the arena, him discussing strategies with Lucy Gray… then, the bombing happened. He was quiet for a moment before he spoke again. "How long have we been here?"

You shrugged. “It feels like it's been at least an hour, but who knows.”

"An hour…" He muttered under his breath, frowning. Surely someone must've noticed your absences by now, so what was taking them so long to come back for the two of you? He raised his gaze again, his eyes lingering on your shadowed figure for a few seconds before he spoke again. "And how did we get here?"

You stayed silent for a moment, like you were debating whether to answer him or not. Coriolanus began to think you wouldn't say anything until he heard you sigh. "You were lying on the ground, already unconscious, and everyone else was running, so I just…” He heard you shifting slightly, a quiet wince escaping your mouth as you moved. “This was the safest place I could find before a bunch of debris fell and blocked the path.”

"And you... carried me? All the way here?" He asked, his eyes narrowing as he studied you through the dark. He knew that the two of you weren't exactly close, and it seemed odd that you would care enough to save him.

You scoffed. "Well, I wasn't just going to let you die. I mean, I know we're not exactly friends, but I'm not evil.”

Coriolanus quirked a brow but said nothing. He hated the fact that it had to be you who had saved him. He focused his eyes on your face, and it was then that he noticed a cut on your forehead. The sight of it annoyed him for some reason, and he scowled. "You're bleeding." He pointed out.

Your fingers reached up to touch where his eyes were staring, and, sure enough, you felt the thick liquid on your skin. "It's nothing," you said flatly.

Stubborn as always, Coriolanus thought. He could ignore your injury and let you deal with it, or he could try to be decent and at least offer some help. You did save his life, after all. "Let me see it," He said after coming to a decision.

"I already told you, it’s nothing—”

"Don't be stubborn," He cut you off, a hint of irritation in his voice. He was suddenly moving closer before you could stop him. He reached with one hand and gently tilted your head, his eyes taking a better look at the cut.

You did your best to avoid eye contact with him, looking anywhere but his face as he examined your wound. "How bad is it, doctor?" You asked sarcastically. 

Your comment earned you a small glare from Coriolanus. Ignoring your attempt at humor, he continued to inspect the cut, his fingers gently hovering over the wound. "It got you pretty bad," He said, his voice quieter. "But, luckily, it doesn't seem to be too deep.” His eyes flicked down to your abdominal area, realizing now that you weren't just folding your arms—you had your hand pressed to your right side underneath your uniform jacket. “Are you injured anywhere else?" He asked, his eyes meeting yours.

Your lips formed a straight line. “Why do you even—”

“Are you injured?” He asked again, his tone sharper this time.

You closed your mouth. Instead of replying, you began to remove your jacket defeatedly. The movement hurt like hell, but you somehow managed to successfully slip it out of your shoulders. The side of your shirt had been ripped, the light blue material heavily soaked in your blood. Coriolanus's expression hardened as he stared down at it, his jaw clenched. “Why didn't you say anything?”

"Well, there isn't a lot we can do about it if we're stuck in here, can we?" You snapped back.

“Maybe not, but you still should've said something," He retorted, crossing his arms over his chest. Letting out a frustrated sigh, his eyes went back to the injury. “Let me take a look,”

“Why?”

“We might have to apply pressure to it to stop the bleeding,” He said.

You didn't argue with him further, but you were still wary as you began to lift the side of your shirt. His eyes widened when he saw the extent of the injury. "This is bad," He muttered under his breath. The sight of the wound made him feel uneasy. He leaned closer to get a better look. "How did it even happen?" 

You shook your head. “I can't even remember. Everything was happening so fast, I…”

You remembered the sound of the screams, the bombs going off, and your heart drumming in your ear. You remembered the smoke and the people running around, clouding your vision, but spotting an unconscious Coriolanus with ease. You remembered dragging him to the most secluded corner you could find, and debris falling everywhere, nearly crushing the two of you. During all of that, you must've hurt yourself without noticing.

Coriolanus nodded, his eyes still focused on the wound. He could tell that it was pretty deep and that you were in serious pain. He looked back up, his eyes meeting yours. "I need you to trust me on this one," He said, his tone firm. He was not usually the one to take charge in a situation like this, but there was no other choice right now. He had to do something.

And you had no other choice but to trust him. “Okay,”

He was glad that you followed along without trying to argue. There was nothing that he could use to press on your wound, so he took off his jacket instead. “This might hurt,” he warned as he scooted closer to you. 

When you nodded, he slowly pressed the jacket against the wounded area, applying the slightest pressure. You hissed at the contact, pressing your lips together to suppress a scream. You shut your eyes, hands curling into fists. “I know, I know,” Coriolanus said, his voice softer than usual. “But it’s only for a little bit. The bleeding should be slowing down soon.”

You nodded, not trusting yourself to speak. You took a few deep breaths, tears brimming in your eyes. You couldn’t remember the last time you experienced anything so painful. Coriolanus couldn’t help but watch you, an odd sensation tugging at him. He didn’t know what came over him, but he suddenly found himself wanting to offer you any sort of comfort. “Do you need to hold on to something?”

You nodded. It was the only thing you could manage. Coriolanus hesitated for a moment before placing his free hand on yours, his fingers firmly wrapped around your hand. If you hadn’t been in so much pain, you would’ve smacked his hand away, but right now, it was your best bet. You squeezed it as tight as you could. He didn’t say anything for a few minutes, letting you focus on the pain. However, he felt the need to distract you, to ease your suffering in any way that he could. “You’re doing well,” He said. “And you’re being surprisingly cooperative as well,”

You let out a weak chuckle. You appreciated his attempt to distract you. "That's because I have no choice."

Coriolanus laughed in a silent huff, the faint hint of a smile forming on his lips. "I suppose you’re right." He said. He couldn’t help but notice the slight shift in your voice, and he wondered if you were close to passing out. The thought worried him for a moment. He tried to be more careful with applying pressure to the wound. “Don’t pass out on me,”

You shook your head, although you were starting to feel unsure of how much longer you’d be able to stay awake. Your body was feeling heavier by the minute; Coriolanus seemed to notice. “Talk to me. It’ll keep you awake.”

“Okay, um..." You tried to think of anything to talk about, but your mind was blank. "What do you want to talk about?"

He pondered silently for a few seconds longer before he said the first topic that came to his mind. “Your family.”

You were slightly taken aback by his suggestion. "You want to talk about my family?"

Coriolanus shrugged. “Just thought you’d like to talk about them.”

You blinked at him for a few moments, but eventually, you leaned back against the wall and began to speak. "Well, you already know that my dad is a doctor and my mom is a professor at the University, and, well, you also know I have a younger brother at the Academy." You pause. “Do you remember my older sister?”

“I do,” He nodded. “She and Tigris were friends back when they were still in school.”

You nodded as well. “Well, she got married to an architect, and they recently had a kid.”

Coriolanus’s eyes widened slightly in surprise. “Did she now? Good for her.”

“Yeah,” You smiled softly. 

His eyes lingered on you for a brief moment before he asked, “What about your brother? What has he been up to?”

“Being annoying, like always,” You replied with a scoff. Coriolanus chuckled. “Besides that, he just spends his days playing dumb games with his friends. What about your family? How are they doing?”

His expression faltered for a moment, and he dropped his gaze, the question catching him off guard. He rarely spoke to anyone about his family, finding that, in conversations like this, the less attention he brought to the Snow name, the better. But he figured it didn’t matter at the moment. “Well, Tigris works with Fabricia Whatnot now, and the Grandma’am is… well, she’s just being the Grandma’am.”

You let out a laugh, another wave of pain suddenly hitting you. You fought back a wince. “I see. That sounds nice, though.” Coriolanus stayed quiet. It was far from being as nice as it seemed, but he wasn’t going to say that. "What... what else do you want to talk about?" You managed to ask him.

Coriolanus snapped out of his little trance, and his eyes darted back to your face. You were growing paler, and he could tell that the pain was getting worse. He couldn’t stop himself from squeezing your hand tighter, trying to think of anything to talk about until suddenly, a thought popped into his head. A subject that he wouldn’t normally bring up, but one that seemed fitting in the current situation, somehow. “You know, we’ve been rivals for years now…”

You nodded. “We have,”

“Do you remember the first time we spoke?” He asked you.

You chuckled. That was way back when you two were still kids. "Surprisingly, I do," you said, thinking back to that day. "We were at the school's playground, and you approached me while Lysistrata and I were playing in the swing set. You pointed at a nearby tree and said that my hair looked like the bird's nest on top of it."

A small smirk formed on Coriolanus’s lips as he recalled the memory. “You were crying at the time, if I remember correctly.” He added, his voice slightly teasing.

You couldn’t contain another laugh, even when it sent yet another sharp pain through you. "I was. And then I believe I approached you afterward and pushed you into the sandbox."

Coriolanus laughed as well, his expression amused. “I still remember the sand getting in my eyes.” He said. “You were the first person ever to push me into the sand. I remember being angry at the time, but looking back…it was kind of hilarious.”

"It was," you agreed. Your eyes began to feel droopy. "We never did get along, did we?"

He noticed how heavy your eyelids looked, his eyes lingering on your face. You looked like you were about to pass out at any moment. “We didn’t,” He finally spoke again, his voice quiet. “But we also never tried to, either.”

You lightly shook your head slightly, tilting it back against the wall. "And now look at us... fighting for our lives together inside an arena... who would've thought..."

Coriolanus hesitated for a moment before he spoke, the words coming out in a soft murmur. “Just try to stay awake, okay? Stay with me a little longer.” 

Your grip on his hand loosened. You heard him speak, but he sounded distant now. He could feel you slipping away, and he desperately grabbed your hand again, squeezing it tighter. “No, no, no. Come on, don’t pass out yet. Just keep talking to me, okay?”

You hummed weakly, doing your best to stay awake. "What do I talk about?"

“Anything,” He tried not to sound frantic as he racked his mind to come up with something to keep you focused, to keep you awake. And suddenly, an idea popped into his head. “Tell me about your favorite childhood memory.”

You smiled faintly. "My favorite childhood memory..." You repeated, talking and blinking slowly. "It was probably when my parents took my siblings and me to the fair for the first time. You remember the fair?"

Coriolanus nodded quickly. He remembered the fair all too well - the colorful lights, the laughter and joyful screams of the people around him, the sweet smell of cotton candy, and the unforgettable sound of the calliope. “I remember.” He said, desperate to keep you talking. “So, you liked the fair?”

"It was my favorite place in the world back then. My sister and I rode nearly all of the rides, and I remember my brother crying because he still couldn't get into a lot of them..." You swallowed, struggling to continue. "I remember my dad buying us candy apples and popcorn, and lemonade. Everything tasted like what I imagined heaven felt like as a child…"

Coriolanus listened to your words, the ghost of a smile appearing on his face. “That all sounds incredible,” he said.

“It was,” You agreed before letting out a long sigh. “I’m tired…”

His smile vanished, and his eyes widened at your words, panic spiking within him once more. “No,” The hand holding the jacket against your wound went up to grip yours. “No, you can’t fall asleep yet. Just stay awake a little longer, okay?” You tried to speak, but it was like you couldn’t move your lips anymore. It was getting harder to keep your eyes open. "Stay awake, come on..."

In a moment of desperation, Coriolanus brought your intertwined hands to his lips and pressed a gentle kiss onto your knuckles, his eyes never leaving your face. He was the last thing you saw before your eyes gave up and closed shut. 

Coriolanus’s heart sank to his stomach. No no no…. He reached out to lightly shake your shoulder, trying to get a response from you, but nothing happened. You were completely unconscious now, and his mind was overwhelmed with panic and worry. You couldn’t die here. Not like this…

A low rumbling sound came from the large pile of debris blocking their path, and his head snapped up, his eyes searching around quickly. In one swift moment, the pile collapsed, clearing out the exit, and a group of men in white suits walked in. The Peacekeepers looked around the room with their flashlights until they spotted you and him on the ground. Coriolanus turned back to you as he heard them approach the two of you. Two of them helped him up while a third one crouched down next to you to check your pulse. After a moment, he turned to the others. "She's still breathing," he announced. “But we need to take her to get checked out right away, or else she won't make it.”

When he heard Tigris voice for the first time since he had been sent to the districts over the phone the relief almost made him cry. He wished he could tell her about his conflicted emotions, but he couldn't risk anyone overhearing him.

Besides, he didn't know if he could ever admit to her the true extent of his feelings. It was embarrassing that of all people he had fallen for a weak girl from the district.

But you were so much more than that to him. It was why it had been so painful to watch you go. Because until that moment some part of him seemed to have hold onto the improbable hope that you would start a life in the capitol together.

As the winner of the games he had assumed it could be possible. That people respected you enough that he could be seen with you and that you wouldn't be forced to return to your life of shreds and dirt.

But you had shown him that this was no future you could ever imagine. And just as you weren’t willing to change for him, he couldn’t do it for you either. Even though you loved each other your love was not enough.

But then why did it hurt so much?

"Everything okay?", he asked Tigris to distract himself from his thoughts. It was another worry that made his heart heavy, the one for his family. Their money was still as tight and with him gone there was not much he could do for them now.

He earned too little, could barely pay for his own foot and housing. Was this how the people in the districts felt? Stuck in a constant loop of worry, fear and work that would never pay off? Unlike them he would never accept such a fate. Unlike them he didn’t belong here.

"We're okay." He heard an edge to Tigris voice, "but there's something you should know about."

His posture stiffened and he gazed around, making sure no one was there. "What is it?"

"Everyone's talking about you and the girl in the capitol." His fingers clenched around the steel. "What are they saying?"

"Never in the history of the games did the gamemakers ever do what they did there with your voice." "He was aware of it, so he waited for her to elaborate. "But why use your voice? The voice of her mentor. Why not someone from her family, someone she cares about?"

To hear Tigris say that you didn't care about him, that he was nothing more than your mentor hurt, but he pushed the anger away. "She doesn't really have family left. And she trusts me. So it makes sense."

"Then why did they only use it on her? Why didn't they try to manipulate anyone else?"

He let out an impatient sigh. "I don't know. They didn't tell me they would do it. But it was our task to make our tributes trust us and I was the only one who succeeded."

"But they didn't, Coryo."

Momentarily he forgot what he was about to say and took in a breath. What was Tigris implying? "It was your task to be a good mentor. Get the people's attention and make them root for her. But making her trust you was your decision."

"Didn't you tell me I should do it?" He sounded tired and accusing and he knew his cousin heard it in his voice. "Yeah, but I didn't expect-", she trailed of and he waited for her to continue, frustrated when he realized she wouldn't.

"She really trusts you, you know that, right?" He was growing more irritated with this conversation by the second. "I think I did a good job, if that's what you're asking."

"My God Coryo, that's not what I mean!" She exhaled loudly at the other side. "We all saw how scared she was for you. For her mentor. For someone from the capitol."

Her words were another reminder how different the two of you were. He hated it.

"We all saw that you care about her too. You kept visiting her. You two talked so much even when the cameras weren't near and everyone who was in the same room saw how terrified you were for her in the arena. And then, against all odds, she wins and you disappear without another word."

She was speaking softer now, probably expecting the defensiveness he felt rising in him. She knew him well. "They gave me a task. I did what I had to. That's all."

Tigris was silent for a moment. "Even if it were true, you did your job a little too well. The people are obsessed with it! With you and her, the idea of a love story between a mentor and their tribute. A Snow and the girl from ashes."

Tigris was speaking slowly, like she was afraid she was overwhelming him with the news and her tone was grave and serious. It was the polar opposite to the hope he felt.

It wasn't the narrative he would have chosen, but a story meant attention and attention meant relevance. If it was true and Tigris was right, they couldn't keep him hidden in the districts much longer.

People wouldn't just accept the two of you together, they would demand it.

His lips curled into a smile. He could have never imaged a better way to get out of here and to convince you to come with him. What reason did you have to say no now?

"Then why do you sound so fearful?"

Tigris took in a deep breath.

"It's the people that love it. You know how they are, always looking for gossip and a good story to keep them entertained enough to forget about their own miserable lives. But-", she paused, "the people are not the capitol. Everyone who's got something to say in Panem hates it. It sends the wrong message, Coryo. That the people from the capitol and the people from the district could be equals. The whole point of the hunger games is to demonstrate supremacy and power. They don't want a girl from a district turning into a star and having a sweet little romance with one of their own."

His smile faded. He felt his heart pounding in his chest and suddenly the room was too small, the walls to high. With each second it was getting harder to breathe. The uniform- he needed to get out of this damn uniform!

"Coryo?"

Tigris voice sounded far away as he struggled between losing himself to his fears and keeping a composed and prideful image.

He had realized the situation he was in was far from ideal before, but having the capitol, the very people he needed to impress as his enemy could- no would destroy his whole life!

And yours too.

The future he had just seen before his eyes ruined by words of love.

"What do you think they'll-", he still couldn't catch his breath. He needed these peoples on his side, not against him. How had he ended up here, so useless and powerless?

No! He needed to keep it together! He would get through this, like he always did. He would find a way to make this work for him or if there was none, he would come up with something else...

He was smart and his name still meant something. Snow always lands on top.

"I don't know what they’ll do." Tigris answered his question without him having to finish it. The worry in her voice did nothing to quieten his own. "But it's only a matter of time until they will have to act. I just- I wanted to warn you, Coryo."

He nodded, more to himself than her. "I will be fine." He had regained his composure and his voice was perfectly emotionless.

"I am worried for you. I think they might try to-"

He would never find out, if Tigris suspicions had been right, because before she could finish her sentence the call cut off.

Had they listened again?

Was he even safe here anymore?

-

Two more days passed before they came for him.

Two days he had spent pondering his choices yet felt no confidence as he stepped in front of the commander. His posture was as straight and effortless as always, so one would have guessed he was secretly far from calm.

He had expected to meet his superior in an official building, something elegant, if that even existed in the districts, but instead he was led to a distant part of a warehouse, where the lights flickered and spider webs hung heavy.

Coriolanus saluted in front of the man, then waited patiently for him to speak. He hoped no one could see past his guard, noticed how fast his heart was beating.

"I was informed about certain rumours circling the streets of the capitol these days. I take it you have heard about them too?"

He gave a short nod, forcing his face to remain blank. The man, who he assumed to be in his late fifties took a step closer. His hair was completely grey, except for one white strand. It gave him an upper look that didn't suit the scenery of the district.

Was he from the capitol? He wasn't dressed like it though; he was wearing the peacekeeper uniform, but something told Coriolanus it was a disguise of his real power. The capitol liked their games.

"So what do you think?"

"I think-", he began, but his voice got interrupted by a painfilled scream. His eyes flickered to the door, but it was locked, either side guarded by a peacekeeper. None of them moved and when he turned back to the commander he simply weaved his hand, urging him to continue.

Coriolanus swallowed, taken off-guard by the noise but pulling himself together. "I think it's just that- rumours. Eventually the public will take an interest in different news."

"Ahh, so you don‘t think such a narrative could have an impact on the political climate both in the districts and the caption? That it could send the wrong image?“

Coriolanus pressed his lips together. “I believe-“, but again a cry disrupted his attempt at an answer. It could not be a coincidence that they had chosen this place to talk to him. It had probably been arranged to shaken his composure and unsettle him. He hated to admit that it worked.

It was probably just a thief, paying for her sins. No one that deserved his attention. Yet it was unnerving, a subtle reminder just how quickly he could manoeuver himself into the same position.

 “Oh don‘t tell me that’s bothering you?” The man in front of him raised his brows. “You should be familiar with the sound of traitors. So what is it you wanted to say?“

Coriolanus straightened his shoulders, but this time the sound was louder, clearer. It was a scream that cut through the air and it was one he knew too well.

No.

“Mr. Snow, what was it you were saying?“

He blinked in irritation and straightened his shoulders when he realized his loss of posture.

“I was saying that the capitol could own it. Make it their own narrative. A tribute developing…an infatuation“, he felt sick, “with her mentor could be-“ Another scream. He felt his composure crumble. The man tilted his head. He was silently laughing about him, Coriolanus was certain about it. “…helpful“, he finished, clearly distracted by the background noises.

They sounded too familiar, had been the sound of his many nightmares and a silent fear crept up his spine.

What if this was real? What if it wasn‘t his mind playing tricks on him, making everything about you? Seeing, hearing you everywhere..

“So you affirm that this- infatuation as you call it is one-sided and you hold no feelings for you tribute?“

Coriolanus lifted his chin. “I merely did my job. I earned the public’s attention and got them interested in the games again. I turned a tribute with no chances into a winner.“

“So you‘re saying the girl doesn‘t mean anything to you?“

He put on a smile that didn‘t reach his eyes. “I assure you and everyone in the capitol that I do not have any connection to the girl beyond the mentorship and that I have no interest or care for her fate now that I completed my task.“

He had always tried to mask the truth or bend it when he felt he needed to, but lying was a different kind of game. One he felt he was losing.

He could tell himself he did this to protect you. But the reality was that he didn’t know if he did.

No, he had to think of his own life now. It was better this way. He had helped save your life once. Now it was time for you to walk your own path.

“Coriolanus!“ He flinched. It was too late to pretend he hadn‘t, everyone had seen it, but he couldn‘t not react when he heard your desperate voice calling his name.

This whole time his instinct had told him that he was right. That the sounds belonged to you and this was more than just a set-up to unnerve him.

It was a trap.

“What is this?“ His voice came out too sharp and he willed himself to remain calm, but it was impossible, if you were here and you were hurt.

“Oh, it should not be of concern for you as you just told us you do not have any interest in the girl‘s fate.“

Had he just said that? In his head it had sounded much more- convincing. But hearing his own words reflected back to him just made him realise how pathetic they sounded.

They could not be farer from the truth.

“As her mentor I would like to know what you are accusing her of“, he tried a different approach, but it was senseless.  

“Oh but Mr. Snow, she is not your tribute anymore. Like you said there is no connection between you and the girl.“

His commander took a step towards him. “Now tell me, which one is the lie?“

Coriolanus swallowed. It took all of him to stand still and keep himself from running after your voice. His body was trembling from the effort. Too long he had been trapped behind a screen, unable to do anything to help you.

But here he could.

Another scream broke the silence. Despite his will he flinched again and closed his eyes for a moment, willing himself to stay strong, remain unaffected. But with each sound he felt himself losing control and a hatred took over his instinct.

“I personally believe you have been lying to us for a long time now, Coriolanus. I can see it on your face. But I would like to hear it out of your own mouth.“

Another step closer. Another cry.

“Say it.“

Coriolanus clenched his jaw, his hands balling into fists.

“SAY IT!“

His fist connected with the man’s jaw before he could even think about what he was doing. He saw the other two peacekeepers at the door reaching for their weapons, but he was faster and had shot them with his own in an instant.

Without another look at them he ran for the door, following your pleas. His heart was racing as he raced through the corridors and tried to locate where it was coming from.

Hopefully he wasn‘t too late. No, he couldn‘t think like that! Yet the thought of what he might get to see tore at him. He should have acted sooner, he should have- killed these men before they even got the chance to open their mouths. It had been a lost game from the beginning and he was done being their paying piece.

“Coriolanus!“

He had almost made it. Just another room…

Coriolanus pushed it open with so much force that the door crashed against the wall and broke out of its hinges.

Breathing heavily and sweating he came to an abrupt stop and took in the room. It was small, dimly lit, empty. He took a step forward, his eyes fixed on the only thing in the room. It was a table and on it-

A cage with a bird. 

Part IV

Tags:

PERMANENT

@capkilljoy @fairytalesforever @hamartocado @choke-me-sweet-pea @sleepinginthegarden7 @thenoddingbunny-blog @ttalisa  @hallecarey1 @Not-jay-c @sunwardsss @writingrem-blog @the-pink-petite-princess @wanniiieeee @part-time-patronus @unnuevosoltransformalarealidad  @theshortegg @not-reptilian @msdrpreist @alisonhepps @hallecarey1  @thatfangirl42 @dustyinkpages @ellabellabus07 @iluvjj  @wayward-hunter  @sweet-texas-girl @rosie-posie08 @ @olsensnpm  @meyocoko  @alexxavicry @shhh423  @dumb-fawkin-bitch @jayyeahthatsme @savagemickey03  @alexxavicry @partiallypearl @earthtolottie  @gisobsessedwithfanfiction  @navs-bhat  @AlohaStitch_626 @multi-fandom-lover7667 @xcallmetaniax @esposadomd  @halsteadloversworld @girlintheredscarf  @randomwriter1021 @joyfulfxckery @crazylokonugget @star611 @anjamagra725-blog @queenofspades6 @alohastitch0626 @kkmikayla @savagemickey03 @guacam011y @k-illdarlings

TOM BLYTH x ACTRESS!READER taglist — (if your user is bold and not tagged, it means i wasn’t able to tag you.)

@daenerysqueenofhearts | @coconut-dreamz | @spencerstits | @callsignwidow | @inf4ntdeath | @coryos0ngb1rd | @upsidedownjill | @toeoffrog | @awatt31 | @bada-lee-ily | @sassyangel16 | @lovebyceleste | @or-was-it-just-a-dream | @yessswhale89 | @jolleluvsyou | @ennycutie | @ashcosmo | @urfavnoirette | @woweewowen | @awatt31 | @thedeadlynights | @nomorespahgetti | @hopelessromanticwriter | @a-mysterious-potato | @foxevxid | @euphemiaamillais

It was the grand opening of a park he donated when he was still a starting politician and today, it was finally done.  You stood beside him, smiling at the cameras and to those who came to celebrate with you.

You clap your gloved hands along with the others when he cuts the ribbons.   

“Oh.”  You gasp softly when Coriolanus sweeps to place a fleeting kiss on your lips and the crowd cheers.  You stare at him in surprise but he smiles charmingly at you. 

Why must he have to be so handsome.  He makes it so easy for you to forgive him.

He wraps an arm around your waist and turns to the crowd.  “Please excuse us.  I will be stealing Miss Swansworth for a while.  Enjoy.”

You let him steer you inside the vast park, there was a beautiful line of trees that casted a beautiful shade and rose bushes along the pathway that emit a fragrant scent.

“One of my projects back at the University.”  He nods at the roses. 

At a closer look, they seem different compared to ordinary roses.  They seem to glimmer. 

“They can survive under harsh weather, their scent is enhanced, and they won't wilt easily.”  He says proudly and you smile admiringly at him.  Your relationship with him has been difficult recently but you are glad he did not simply cast you away like you feared he would.

“You know, if you were not so deadest in taking control over Panem, I believe you would have made a good florist.”

His face twists.  “Florist.”  He spits like the word disgusts him, making it all the more comical.

“Well, you are so passionate about flowers.”  You chuckle as you look at the light flow of your dress.

Coriolanus studies you closely for a while before looking ahead.  He slips his hands in his pockets with his thumb jutting out.  “I can be passionate about other things too.”

You watch his broad back as he walks ahead of you to lead you further in the park.

Eventually, you reach a pavilion, one hidden from view as tall topiary are purposefully placed around.  There were more beautiful flowers perfuming the air.  Pursing your lips, you let Coriolanus guide you to the table at the center of the pavilion and he pulls your chair for you as an act of chivalry.

“Thank you.”  You say kindly as you sit down.  He gives you one of his handsome smiles and sits across from you.

“Tea?”  He asks but is already pouring you a cup.  You eye the assortments of cakes and refreshments around the table.  Steam rises from the cup he carefully pushes your way, it was prepared just recently.  You scan the area discreetly, but there were no Avox around, you seem to be alone with him.

You take your cup and blow softly and then take a sip.  Coriolanus does the same.

Gently, you set the cup down on the saucer with a quiet clatter and he follows suit.

You make an attempt to grab a macaron but he beats you to it and puts not one but three on your plate.  His recently found habit of overindulging you is starting to surface once more.  The smile is still on his face and you wonder how long he can keep that up.  Choosing to play along, you smile back at him sweetly.

His chest visibly swells, so impressed with himself.

At the top of the dessert stand, a small opaque cloche rests. 

Coriolanus thought he was being sleek but with the number of times he sprung a proposal on you, you can guess that a ring might be resting on a cupcake or something pretty in there.

But still, you choose not to say anything and just enjoy your panna cotta, purposefully not touching the macarons he gave you.  And you enjoy how his eyes keep on flitting to them.

When you pour your attention to your food and not on him, Coriolanus shifts in his seat.  

He has a feeling this might be it.  There is a good amount of privacy, the atmosphere is romantic, and you seem to be in a good mood.  Spending his money on these outrageously expensive desserts was a good decision.

It takes everything from you not to roll your eyes when he leaves his seat to stand next to you.

As you are still not looking at him, he clears his throat and you decide it was time to finally stop playing coy and meet his eyes.

“Y/N.”  He sighs, air charged with his confidence.  “I was not the sweetest nor am I the kindest man to you.  But you have shown me just how much a man can change with the right woman and right affection.”  He grabs the small plate from the top of the dessert stand.

He removes the cloche and reveals a smooth little Swedish princess cake and on top of it, the prettiest rosette icing.  

And a ring sits on top of the tea cake and you look at him blankly.  

It was an enormous ring!  And he seems pretty impressed with himself.

It was very intricate, very detailed, and very heavy looking.

It was too much.

Coriolanus blows out a sigh.

This was difficult for him, not the proposal but what he is about to do next.

You tip your chin haughtily as he gets down on one knee.  He was stiff as he did so.  Looking very out of place at that height, even if it was for you.  His knee burns under his weight as his tight suit restricts him from large movements.

But his brilliant smile captures your eyes once more and he lifts the cake up to you, making your nose crinkle just the slightest.

“Will you marry me?”

You look him in the eyes with a brow raised.

That’s the best he can do?  That generic statement?

His smile falters under your mocking gaze.

“Corio.”  You chuckle.  “Really?”

Coriolanus scoffs, slamming the cake on the table and you hear the saucer crack.  You purse your lips as you watch him stand abruptly with his back turned to you, he places his hands on his waist as he stares into the garden around the pavilion. 

“Fuck it.”  He mutters as he runs his hand on his mouth, bristling under the weight of your countless rejections.  You see his cheekbones pinking and you stand to wrap your arms around him from behind.  His back tenses when you rest your cheek against it.

“Do not be angry, Mr. President.”  You spoke calmly.  Trying to see how much you can push him is thrilling you to the core but you also cannot risk him being fed up with you.

Coriolanus does not acknowledge your actions but you feel his body relaxing under your touch.

“I just don’t understand.”  He fumes, his hands gesturing around him and you chuckle in amusement.  “I have done everything.  I even bent the knee!”  He pushes you off harshly and you pout as he steps away.  You hate how you quickly miss his warmth.  “What more do you want from me?”  He demands as he steps dangerously close to you. 

Your playfulness dissipates as he renders you speechless.

He brushes your fingers that tried to fiddle with his coat.  “I just…”

“You what?”  He spits and you throw your hands up in frustration.

“I don’t know!”  You yell back with equal frustration before looking at him in defeat.  “I just don’t know.”

He is silent as you draw further and further into yourself, eyes no longer able to meet him.

“I am very fond of you, Coriolanus.”  You confess and he scans your face for lies but all he sees is naked vulnerability.  “I am just not certain about this.”

“You don’t want to marry me.”  He concludes, his patience stretched to its limit.

“That is not what I said.”  You say with a hint of panic and exasperation.

“Gods, you’re making Livia Cardew’s temptations enticing.”  The words spilled from his tongue without him thinking and the consequence was almost instant.

Your eyes harden like cold marbles, you are quick to move around him to grab your bag from the table.

“Y/N.”  Coriolanus blocks your path from the steps of the pavilion, his regret now biting at him as he heard your contained sniffles.  “Come on, darling.  I did not mean it.”

You push past him as you start walking away, with him quickly following you.

He wanted to strangle himself after catching sight of your tears.  Tears you are trying so hard to suppress.

Mentioning names of other women was insensitive for his part.  Especially when he is aware of how deep your affections for him are.

He managed to grab your hand and you try to pull away but your strength is that of a child compared to his.

“Let go.”  You say through gritted teeth, streaks of tears running down your cheeks.

“It was a foolish thing to say.”  He admits but you are having none of it.

You turn your head to the side and look up to the sky to keep your tears from falling.  “I hate you.”

“No, you don’t.”  He pulls you to his chest and presses a lingering kiss on your temple.

Coriolanus looks at the emptiness in frustration.  He worked so hard to build what you have today.  Is one slip of tongue going to crumble it all to the ground?

Even the smartest of men are lost to the world of women.

“Go marry that witch.”  You mutter.  “See if I care.”

Coriolanus held you close, his lips pursing at the venom of your tone.

“I’m not marrying anyone else.”  He says.

He does not know how long he held you in his arms, your pretty lips muttering antagonism against him but Coriolanus takes every insult as he keeps you trapped in his arms.

By the time the sun is about to set, you let him hold your hand and guide you away from the pavilion.  You did not speak to him when he let you in his car, fingers frozen in your lap as your eyes were cast far away.

Coriolanus chooses not to say anything and simply buckles your seatbelt for you and he drives to your apartments.  He walks you to your door and walks you inside.  You are too drained to even do anything.

Why were you even rejecting his proposals?  And like he said, what more did you want from him?  You have embarrassed yourself, making a fit as soon as he mentioned another woman’s name.  It was most unbecoming of you.  You close your eyes tightly, regretting the weakness you showed him.

You are grateful that Coriolanus does not comment on it.  He looks at your blank features as he gently pry your fingers from your bag to place it on your countertop.  Your breath hitch when he gets down on his knees again, his hands sliding on your bare legs as he unclasps your heels.

Coriolanus guides your hand to his shoulder as he slips your feet from the tall shoes.

“Corio.”  You say gently and he hums in response as he focuses on your other shoe.  “I must ask you something.”

He removes the other shoe and looks up at you, awaiting.  You inhale sharply, his eyes are the truest blue, reflecting the harsh glare of moonlight and the glow of the Capitol.  You sit down, your dress splayed prettily around you and you lean on the countertop. 

“Why do you want to marry me?”

You are scared.  He can tell by the waver in your voice and the way you held yourself.  Coriolanus sits next to you, wincing at the restrictive nature of his clothing.

For a moment you just look at the lit windows of the buildings opposite yours.  And the moving gleams of headlights as cars drove on the street.  Everything was silent aside from the muffled music played by the old couple next door. 

“Remember how you asked what would make me happy?”  He glances at the boutonnière by his coat and he plucks a delicate baby’s breath that frames a rose, he twirls it in his fingers.  “I think marrying you would.” 

“I’m not certain if we can find happiness in a political partnership.”  You mutter to which he only laughs.

“For someone so sharp, you sure are missing the point, sweetheart.”

You look at him with your eyes puffy and tired, not having the energy to start a fight.

“I want to marry you.  Your name and smarts are a bonus of course, but I want you.”  He grins as he continues to play with the baby’s breath.  “You make me feel things I shouldn’t.  I thought it was just admiration and fondness, simply fleeting elation.”  His voice cracks ever so slightly and your eyes wet again with tears.

“I was wrong.”  His own eyes were glassy but he remained calm.  “It was joy.”  He grabs your hand and you turn to see him holding the baby’s breath now twirled to resemble a ring and your breath gets caught in your throat.

“Y/N Swansworth.”  He sniffles, and then laughs lightly at how you can easily stir his emotions.  “Can I persuade you to make an attempt to seize real happiness with me?”

You close your eyes, and tears pour to your cheeks as you nod, letting out a broken “Yes.”

Coriolanus felt overwhelmed with joy, some of it spilled out in a laugh, the tightness in his chest loosening, he never felt more alive.  He can hear his heartbeat pounding in his ears as he slips the poorly made ring to your finger.  Oh, but it was beautiful.  More beautiful than the forgotten ring by the pavilion.  It was something his own hands have crafted only for you.

He kisses your palm and you cup his cheek.

“Thank you for being patient with me.”  You say as you place a chaste kiss on his lips.

“Resilience has always been my strongest suit.”  He says and you laugh.  He smiles fondly upon hearing the sweet melody.  Yes, he prefers it so much more than your sobs.  “My affections for you are not delicate.”

Quest for Happiness

Always loved the twinkling lights and the music that came with decorating a pine tree. She was always so sweet, spreading joy wherever she went like fresh snowfall on a winter night.

She brought a certain light into his dark life and now the winds of time have permanently blown out her candle.

Not even the strongest light can outstand the bitter winds that come with a man like Coriolanus Snow.

He pauses by one of the large windows overlooking the grounds. A white blanket of snow has covered everything in sight aside from the greenhouse, a safe haven for his precious roses. He feels bile rising up in his throat when he sets his sights on the greenhouse, remembering what happened in there so many years ago.

He turns, forcing himself to look away and that’s when he sees her.

Her ghost.

Dressed in a simple white silk nightgown, like the ones she was so fond of, with her hair falling down her shoulders, she looks so kind, and yet, she flickers.

He swallows, for so long he’s avoided this, avoided her. Coriolanus didn’t believe in ghosts until his wife died and then she began to haunt him. She’s a quiet thing though, never making a mess, never bothering him.

For the longest time, he brushed it off, told himself that it was the lights playing tricks on him. He took pills, spoke to doctors, yet she persisted.

He takes a cautious step towards her, not trusting himself to be in her presence again, not after what happened last time, that night.

She glows so beautifully in the moonlight.

“Soarynn,” he breathes, nearly choking on his guilt and grief.

Even in death, she’s kind. So when he crumples to the ground, he feels her soft touch, her deft fingers rubbing his scalp like she did so often when she was alive. She hums his favorite song while he lies there, head in her lap, feeling sorry for himself and everything he ever did to her.

“Coryo,” she says softly, “Coryo, look at me.”

He’s scared. Scared to see what she’ll look like, how she’ll look at him. Will she be angry?

He slowly lifts his head, prepared to look into her stormy blue eyes one last time but they’re gray, like the rest of her. Gray and gone.

He notices the cuts on her face, her arms, from the rose bushes she fell into all those years ago. It seems that not even death or time can heal all wounds.

“I’m sorry,” he whispers, choking on his guilt, “I’m so sorry.”

Soarynn smiles, he’s forgotten how beautiful she is when she smiles. “My golden boy,” she hums, resting a hand on his cheek and he leans into the touch, telling himself that he must remember this touch for the rest of his miserable life.

“What’re you sorry for Coryo? What could you have possibly done?”

She’s being cruel to be kind.

But he’s never been kind. That was always her thing.

“I killed you,” he gasps, tears burning in his eyes, “I was…I was too late, too cruel to you. You, you didn’t deserve any of that.”

Soarynn uses her other hand to hold his chin, lifting his head up so he doesn’t drop it in shame, “You were never kind,” she tells him, “you were mine and you were awful every time.”

Coriolanus nods, sniffling but Soarynn is all too familiar with tears, “I know,” he mumbles, “I know and I’m sorry for how things ended. I never meant to let you get that bad.”

“I died slow,” she says and she’s looking out the window now, letting the moonlight shine right through her translucent figure, “I died alone. I thought you’d come for me but you didn’t. Why didn’t you come for me?”

His hands shake as he grabs at her nightgown, it feels so soft, so smooth like her skin. How long has it been since he’s felt her soft skin?

“I couldn’t,” he gets out, “couldn’t follow you or stop you. It was too late and, and you’d already made up your mind.”

Soarynn drops her gaze, they both hurt each other but they both know that he was the worst. She was the best of him. “I’d do it again,” she tells him, rubbing her thumb back and forth over his cheek, “I couldn’t live in this house anymore.”

He makes a desperate grab for her face, crying out when his fingers go right through her and at the pained look she gives him. “It doesn’t work that way Coryo,” she explains, “it doesn’t always work the way you want it to.”

But he’s so past caring by now. He sobs, his entire body shakes from how hard he’s crying. He misses her. Misses their showers together. Misses eating in the dining room together.

He’s pushed everyone away and has no one to blame but himself for what he’s done.

“I want you to come back,” he gasps, “come back to me and we can be together again.”

“I never left.”

She’s right. She’s never left this house although he can imagine how terrible it must be for her. To choose to stay when she has a better life on the other side.

“I’m sorry. I’m sorry Soarynn.”

“I know Coryo.”

“I’m so lonely.”

“I know Coryo.”

“I don’t want you to leave again.”

“I have to. You know that.”

Coriolanus shakes his head, determined to make her stay and he tries to touch her again, crying out when his fingers go through her once more.

“Why can’t I touch you but you can touch me?”

Soarynn purses her lips, “You can only touch me if I want you to. And I don’t want you to.”

He wishes she never came.

He pulls his face away, ignoring how her face falls, “Then we’re done here,” he decides, “no point in haunting me and hurting me for the fun of it. Or is this who you’ve become Soarynn? Someone who haunts my hallways to drive me mad while I’m all alone?”

He stands up, shaky with his footing but he finds it, stumbling away from her ghost.

“We both know why you’re on your own.”

He wipes away his tears, he has better things to do with his time than to be talking to ghosts of little girls who can’t seem to move on from the past.

He’s sorry, he is, but he can’t go back and change things no matter how much he wants to.

Coriolanus wants to look back at her flickering image but he doesn’t. He won’t give her the satisfaction.

“Merry Christmas Soarynn,” he calls from over his shoulder, “please don’t come back.”

| tumblr oneshot/drabble |