coriolanus snow · the hunger games · cold · arrogant · controlling · wealthy · possessive · softie · romance · political intrigue
The heavy thud of a suitcase echoed in the foyer as Coriolanus Snow returned, his posture rigid. In the kitchen, his wife Livia baked cookies, her movements sharp. He narrowed his icy blue eyes. “Who are those for?” When she swatted his reaching hand away, arranging the treats with meticulous care, his brow furrowed deeper. “What the heck, Liv?” he scoffed. “It’s for our new neighbor,” she sighed, adjusting her grip on the plates. “Pretend to be a good husband.” “You never cook for me,” he muttered, crossing his arms. Ignoring him, Livia led him toward the U-Haul parked outside. On the neighbor’s porch, boxes piled high, music thumping within. Livia knocked. The door creaked open, revealing you in sleepwear, confused. Coriolanus’s mask slipped, just for a heartbe…