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snowalwayslandsontop · 9 days ago

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We Burn Quietly

Festus keeps Coriolanus’ secrets, even as he learns to trace every scar. Ambition binds them, but it’s the quiet between battles that undoes him.

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The glittering chandeliers still cast fractured light across the walls, their sparkle faint against the deeper shadows settling in Coriolanus’s chamber. Festus could still taste the sharp tang of expensive wine lingering on his tongue, mixed with the faint sweetness of Coriolanus’s cologne—something cold and sharp. The party had been a blur of polished smiles and veiled threats, a performance where every glance was a weapon, every word a calculated move. But now, away from the suffocating weight of the Capitols eyes, the air between them felt electric, charged with something raw and dangerously close to fragile.

It had been months since Coriolanus returned from District 12, months of stolen nights and silent agreements, of falling into bed together whenever the Capitols facade grew too heavy to bear. Each encounter was a quiet rebellion, a desperate tether in a world that refused to let either of them rest. Festus often wondered how much of this was need, how much was habit—how much of Coriolanus he was really seeing beneath the layers of control and ambition. But in moments like this, those questions felt less urgent. Right now, there was only the steady rise and fall of their breath, the faint heat radiating from Coriolanus’ skin beneath his fingertips.

Coriolanus’ gaze met his, dark and unfathomable, the kind of look that still made Festus’ pulse quicken even after all this time. There was a tension in the way Coriolanus’s hands trembled slightly as they gripped Festus’ wrists, a silent plea masked beneath that fierce exterior. Festus felt the steady beat of his own heart in his chest, a quiet rhythm grounding him as he let himself be pulled closer, the space between them shrinking until it vanished entirely.

The moment they collapsed onto the bed, the world outside ceased to exist. The softness of the sheets beneath their bodies contrasted sharply with the heat radiating from Coriolanus’ skin, still flushed from the party and something more urgent. Festus’ fingers traced the sharp line of Coriolanus’s jaw, feeling the faint grit of dried sweat. His touch moved lower, over the scars etched into pale skin—the long, cruel burns from the 10th Games that spoke of survival against impossible odds, and the jagged scar on Coriolanus’ shoulder.

Festus’ fingers lingered there, tracing its rough edges with a tenderness born of familiarity. He had seen that mark more times than he could count, a silent testament to some past pain Coriolanus never chose to share. Festus dared not ask—not yet at least. The silence around it was thick, a barrier Festus wasn’t sure he was ready to cross, and perhaps Coriolanus wasn’t either.

Inside, Festus wrestled with a fierce protectiveness, a desire to shield Coriolanus from a world that had already taken too much. But beneath that protectiveness was a more complicated truth. Coriolanus wasn’t just fragile or broken. He was a storm, unpredictable and dangerous, a force of ambition and ruthlessness that mirrored Festus’ own. That fire was part of what drew Festus in, even as he knew it put them both at risk.

They were bound by a shared hunger—an unyielding drive to climb higher, no matter the cost. Festus understood better than most how sharp the edge could be, how easily the game could turn from power to peril. Protecting Coriolanus wouldn’t mean shielding him from the worlds dangers but standing with him in the chaos, ready to strike and survive together.

Their breaths mingled, shallow and uneven, as they moved together with a desperate urgency that neither tried to hide. The warmth of Coriolanus’ body beneath his hands grounded Festus, a tether in a world that often felt cruel and uncertain. And when their skin finally settled, and the rush slowed to quiet, Festus pressed a gentle kiss to Coriolanus’ temple, feeling the steady pulse beneath the skin.

As they lay tangled in the dim glow, Festus’ mind wandered to all the unspoken things between them—the secrets, the scars, the fragile hope flickering in the darkness. Was this something more than desperation? Could it be trust? Or was it just another game they both played, carefully and cautiously, knowing that power always came at a price?

He didn’t know where this path would lead, or if it could survive the harsh light of day. But for now, in this stolen moment, he would hold on to the fragile warmth between them, fierce and real, a defiant spark against the cold world outside.

That knowledge settled over Festus now as he held Coriolanus close—both of them fierce, both of them vulnerable, caught in the dangerous dance of trust and ambition. And though the path ahead promised fire and ruin, Festus knew he wouldn’t let go. Not yet. Not while the scarred skin beneath his hands still beat with life and possibility.

#coriolanus snow x festus creed #snowcreed #festus creed #coriolanus snow #coriolanus x festus #rare pair #//this ship just won't leave me alone #//not beta read #ooc #//since this is from Festus' POV #//reblog for the night crew

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snowalwayslandsontop · 10 days ago