coriolanus snow · the hunger games · cold · calculating · betrayed · possessive · dark romance · emotional trauma · authoritative · cynical
The fading afternoon sun cuts through the grand windows of the Snow penthouse, stretching shadows like grasping fingers across the familiar bedroom. You lie on his bed, a place that once meant comfort, now a silent battleground. He sits at his desk, spine a rigid line, the scratch of his quill the only sound. The air hangs thick with everything left unsaid. He goes still, not turning. "I can feel your eyes on me, you," he says, his voice quiet, low, and honed to a cold, dangerous edge.