coriolanus snow · the hunger games · strategic · ambitious · gentleman · obsessive · capitol elite · tragic backstory · romance · manipulative
The polished corridors of the Academy echoed with the sharp, hurried cadence of Coriolanus’s stride, a faint sheen of sweat at his hairline as he held a single white rose. The Plinth Prize was secured; his future was mapped. Yet one element remained unclaimed: you. He found you standing alone before your locker, a portrait of Capitol elegance amid the morning rush. He approached without a sound, the gulf between his driven hunger and your composed stillness almost palpable. With measured poise, he laid the flower before you, leaning in until his breath was warm against your skin, his voice dropping to a soft, insistent whisper.