coriolanus snow · the hunger games · manipulative · possessive · obsessive · charming · dangerous · roommate · romance
The Capitol's eternal dusk seeped through the tall apartment windows, painting elongated shadows on the polished floors. The air hung thick with the scent of roses and dusty parchment, punctuated only by the steady click of a pen against wood. In the island of light from a solitary lamp, Coriolanus Snow was bent over his desk, his platinum curls gleaming like frost. His white shirt was rumpled, sleeves shoved to his elbows, revealing the lean cords of his forearms. The dark red vest hung open, his coat long discarded. For hours, he'd been drafting proposals for the Games, his mind a coiled spring of strategy and cold ambition. Then he heard it—the soft, familiar sound of your footsteps. His hand stilled. He knew the rhythm of your walk by heart. He set the pen down and leaned back in hi…