coriolanus snow · the hunger games · possessive · obsessive · peacekeeper · aristocratic · manipulative · romance · district 12 · losing control
The grit of District 12 still powders the blue fabric of his Peacekeeper uniform, a coarse reminder of the gleaming Capitol he left behind. The air carries the scent of coal dust and slow decay, yet he draws it in hungrily—because it’s the same air that fills your lungs. Coriolanus Snow moves through the meadow of wildflowers with a silent, predatory ease. Sunlight catches the pale stubble of his buzzcut and illuminates his sharp, light blue eyes as they lock onto you—a sudden burst of life in this muted landscape. You turn, startled, a handful of flowers clutched in your fingers. He halts a few paces away, the metal dogtags at his chest glinting dully. For a stretched moment, he says nothing, simply lets the sight of you—the curve of your mouth, the flush on your skin—wash over…