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babydollmarauders · 7 months

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BALLAD OF A HOMESCHOOLED GIRL — JACK HUGHES

jack hughes x fem!reader

summary: in which y/n goes on a date with Jack and thinks she made a complete fool of herself

notes: obviously inspired by Ballad of a Homeschooled Girl by Olivia Rodrigo, not proofread and written on extreme sleepiness. (3.6k words)

third dates.

my mother always told me to have them in group settings.

she said the first date is to get to know each other; the second is to learn how he’d treat you in private; the third date is to learn how he’d treat you in front of his friends.

most guys seem to get intimidated when i ask about joining a hang out with his friends for the third date, but Jack was different. i had told Jack on our first about my rules.

first date in a public setting, but alone.

second date in private, his apartment or mine.

third date with a group of friends.

i hadn’t expected him to take it so well, nodding along as though even without context, it made sense. he didn’t ask for clarification, which was good because i had learned after my last relationship not to give any; lest they’ll act like a gentlemen in front of their friends until we start dating.

i honestly didn’t expect Jack to contact me again, fully awaiting the discovery that he’d ghosted me, possibly even blocked me to keep me from talking to him again. but then he texted me tonight.

“i know it’s last minute, but third date tonight? me and some guys from the team are going for drinks, would you wanna come?”

and now here i am, walking into a pretty secluded bar to meet Jack and about half a dozen other professional hockey players. to say i’m nervous would be a massive understatement.

i spent at least half an hour trying on various outfits, but nothing felt right. every article of clothing i tried on had something wrong with it; whether it be that it didn’t fit quite right, or it didn’t match the occasion, or i just deemed it didn’t look good on me, something was always wrong. so i finally settled on a nice sundress, despite the chilled air of the evening.

“y/n!” my head turns in search of the voice that called my name, locking eyes with Jack, where he sits at a high top table with five other guys. “i was starting to think you’d stood me up!”

my eyebrows furrow as i walk over to him, stopping at the end of the table. my stomach ties in knots at all of the eyes on me. i hate attention.

“why would i do that?” a few of the guys chuckle at my question, but i’m not sure i understand what’s so funny.

“i was joking.” Jack clarifies.

oh.

embarrassment washes over me and i can feel the blood rushing to my cheeks, but Jack just smiles sweetly, rising to his feet and pulling out the chair beside him.

“oh, thank you.” i take a seat and he returns to his, his hand settling on my knee as one of the guys begin to speak.

“so, you’re y/n?” my eyes go wide, and i glance over at Jack but he’s looking over at the other guy. “i’m Luke.”

“nice to meet you, Luke.” i give the curly headed boy a tight smile, “so, you play with Jack?”

the boy grins, nodding his head, “i guess you could say that.”

everyone snickers, and i fear i’ve made a mistake of some sort. my blood runs cold; i hate feeling like i’m on the outside of some giant inside joke.

maybe this was a mistake.

Jack squeezes my knee, and i look over at him with subtly pleading eyes, silently begging for him to save me.

“Luke is my younger brother, but he does play on the team with me.” there it is. that’s where i messed up.

“oh, i’m sorry.” i’m not sure what i’m apologizing for, but it seems like the right thing to do. i glance back at Luke, “i knew Jack had mentioned your name before but, he’s mentioned so many names that at this point they all jumble together in my head.”

Luke just shakes his head, waving it off. “nah, don’t worry, it’s okay.”

after that, i decide it’s better to go quiet; only really speaking when spoken to. i can’t embarrass myself if i’m not saying anything.

“hey.” Jack’s voice is soft, and at first, i don’t even realize he’s talking to me, until i tear my eyes from who i now know as Dawson, who’s telling a story with wildly gesturing hands. “do you wanna go get a drink?”

he nods his head over towards the bar, and i nod, desperately in need of something to ease my nerves, “yes, please.”

Jack and i rise from our seats, his hand going to my lower back to stabilize me as i stumble. my cheeks go red, but i decide it’s better not to acknowledge my clumsiness.

“and i— where are you guys going?” Dawson cuts himself off, drawing attention to Jack and i’s retreating pair. “did i bore you, y/n?”

i stop in my tracks, freezing up as guilt takes over me.

“i- what? n-no! Jack-” i stumble over my words in a panic, attempting to reassure him, but apparently i didn’t help my case.

“see, Merc! poor y/n even finds your story stupid.” John laughs and i shake my head wildly.

“no! i found it interesting!” Nico snickers at my words, his hand coming up to cover his mouth.

“interesting. that’s one way of putting it.”

oh god, i made it worse.

“guys, leave her alone.” Jack speaks up, rolling his eyes at his friends before he turns back to me. “c’mon, ignore them, they’re just raggin’ on you.”

my brows thread together in confusion, but i nod nonetheless, allowing him to use his hand that still rests on my back to guide me over to the bar.

“i’m sorry about them.” he sighs as we reach the counter, waiting for a bartender. “they have a stupid sense of humor.”

“no! no, it’s fine!” i assure him.

it’s not them, it’s me.

i’ve never been great at picking up on social cues, perhaps due to my odd lifestyle as a child.

when the bartender reaches us, Jack orders another beer before looking over at me, “oh, can i just get an aperol spritz, please?”

Jack hands over his card and when he gets it back he turns to me.

“i gotta run to the bathroom, are you okay waiting for the drinks? i’ll be back in a second.” i nod and he takes off towards the restroom, leaving me alone.

“so, you like him?” apparently not alone for long.

i turn my head in surprise, only to find Luke standing beside me. he asks the bartender who arrives back with Jack and i’s drinks for another beer and the man nods.

“hmm? Jack?” Luke nods and i smile looking down into my glass. “yeah, i really like him.”

“see, i said so!” my face scrunched in confusion as i look back at him.

“you said so?” i question.

“yeah! Johnny was trying to say you must not like him because you aren’t being very flirty, but i told him- i said you obviously like him if you’re on a third date.”

flirting.

i’ve never been great at that. and i haven’t needed to be, Jack is the one who approached me first, he’s the one who asked me out and he hasn’t given any indication that i have any reason to have to flirt to keep his attention.

“oh.”

Luke pays for his beer before retreating back to the table with a low “see you in a few.”

i’m quick to tear my phone out of my pocket, glancing over towards the restrooms for a moment to make sure my date isn’t coming back before making a quick google search.

this seems impossible.

“hey.” Jack reappears beside me and i hastily lock my phone, looking up at him as i go to slide it back into my pocket. but the combination of my fidgety hands, quick movements, and not paying attention to my surroundings doesn’t end well.

before i can even blink, my hand is knocking into my glass, the drink sliding off the bar top and onto the floor, shattering upon impact.

“oh my god!” i squeal, jumping back from the broken shards. i glance down at the mess before looking back up at Jack. “i am so sorry!”

i turn to the waitress who comes rushing towards us with a broom and towels, apologizing profusely and offering to clean it up myself.

“it’s no problem, happens all the time.” she tells me with a smile, but i still bury my face in my hands.

i’m making a fool of myself.

“can we get another aperol spritz?” i peek through my eyes at the sound of Jack’s voice, watching as he hands the bartender his card again.

“i am so sorry, Jack.” my voice is low and whimpered, my shoulders rising as though to protect myself. “i just wasted your money and made a huge mess.”

Jack smiles softly, shaking his head as he chuckles, “don’t worry about it. it’s seriously okay, y/n. accidents happen, don’t beat yourself up about it.”

i nod, but i truly feel horrible now.

this was a mistake. i should’ve just stayed home; watched a cheesy romance or read a true crime novel and gone to bed early.

the bartender hands me the new drink, and i thank him before Jack leads me back to the table.

“everything okay?” Timo questions as we return and Jack just nods as we settle back in our seats.

“yeah, just a little accident. it’s all good.” the guys chuckle but all turn back to their previous conversation, somehow now on the topic of the wildest things they did in school.

i stay silent, hoping and praying to any higher power that they don’t involve me in this conversation, but my luck runs out pretty quickly. although i’m not sure i’ve had any tonight in the first place.

“what about you, y/n?” Nico is the one to rope me in, “what’s the wildest thing you did in school?”

“i- uh-” i internally cringe, mentally preparing myself for their jokes, “i was homeschooled. so, i didn’t really get to do anything crazy like you guys.”

“ohh, you’re a homeschool kid.” Luke nods as if it makes sense.

“did you know that statistically speaking, homeschoolers are more likely to graduate than public schoolers?” John pipes up, and i shake my head.

“really?” Jack questions, his nose scrunched cutely in disbelief.

“no, i- uh, i didn’t know that.” John nods at my words.

“yeah, look it up!” he points to my phone, which never actually made it to my pocket after the broken glass fiasco and now resides face down on the table.

i pick it up and Jack and Dawson, who both reside on either respective side of me, lean in to see my phone screen, eager to find out whether their teammate is correct.

but when i unlock my phone, my eyes grow wide and i’m eagerly attempting to swipe out of the current window, but it’s as if the world is against me because this is the exact moment that my phone screen decides to freeze.

“does that say ‘how to flirt?’” Dawson chuckles and i bite my lip, giving up and slamming my phone face down onto my lap as the table bursts into laughter.

i’m blushing like a mad woman, squeezing my eyes shut as i bury my face into my hands for the second time that night.

“aww y/n, you really let John get to you, huh?” Luke teases, and i feel like i could cry of embarrassment.

everything i do is tragic.

suddenly my seat is moving, scooting further to my right, before an arm is spindling around my waist. i let my hands lower just slightly to peer up at Jack, who wears a happy grin, his cheeks tinged pink.

he glances down at me, smiling even wider when he sees that i’m already looking at him.

it’s like a cat’s got my tongue, too stunned by the overwhelming mortification of the situation to even get a word out to explain or defend myself.

but Jack doesn’t seem to mind, pulling me into his body until my head is against his collarbone as he changes the subject; bringing up a story about he and his older brother trying to free an infant Luke from his crib when they were younger.

i’m quiet as the group speaks, most of them speaking over each other, which in turn makes others get louder to try and be heard. my head aches and i need a break.

“i’m gonna go to the bathroom.” i whisper, freeing myself from Jack’s hold as he nods in understanding.

“okay. are you okay?” i give him a small smile, reassuring him that i’m fine before i leave.

my hands rest upon the bathroom sink, my eyes glaring into my reflection in the wonky bar mirror.

“get it together.” i try and tell myself, but it comes out in more of a whine.

why am i like this?

i run my hands through my hair, making sure it’s volumized, and heave out a sigh before i make my way back out of the restroom to join the table again.

on my way back, i can’t help but smile at the sight of Jack laughing with his friends.

he seems so carefree.

but i should’ve been watching where i was going, because halfway to the table, i’m tripping over someone’s heeled foot, landing on my knee on the hard ground.

“oh shit!” Jack’s voice echoes over the loudness of the music and bar-goers, and i can hear multiple chairs screech across the floor. “y/n, are you okay?”

oh god, i wanna curl up and die.

“yeah, i’m fine.” my voice is wavering and weak, so over making an idiot of myself tonight.

Jack appears in front of me, holding his hands out to help me up. his skin is soft as i slide my hands into his, allowing him to pull me up to my feet.

his friends stand behind him, a couple biting back laughs, but the others wide eyed in concern.

i let Jack guide me back to the table, and when i sit down, he’s kneeling in front of me, inspecting my knee for any immediate bruising or marks.

i sigh and he looks up at me, worry settled into his expression.

“that was a hell of a tumble.” Timo snickers, but he sobers up quickly as his eyes meet Jack’s, “you’re okay though, right?”

“physically? yes. mentally? questionable.” the table laughs, but i didn’t mean to joke, which only makes me press my lips together.

Jack finally deems my knee okay, settling back into his seat and letting his arm rest over the back of my chair.

“what were we talking about?” Jack asks, effectively diverting the attention away from my fall and back to the conversation from while i was gone.

“cheating.” John states, taking a sip from his beer.

i let out a little laugh, thinking he was just joking, but i sober up as i realize nobody else is.

“oh, you were serious.” i bite my lip as he nods.

“right!” Luke exclaims, “so people are saying he cheated on her?”

“yeah,” Dawson nods, and i’m a bit lost, “which i don’t understand, because all he did was hold hands with the other girl. we don’t know anything other than that. holding hands could have so many different meanings.”

i take a big gulp of my drink, listening intently as the guys debate cheating and what counts as cheating.

“i think, if one of you guys cheated on your girlfriend, i might ‘accidentally’ knock your teeth out on the ice.” Nico tells them, making the guys and i laugh. “i’m serious, you’d be bag skating until you physically drop from exhaustion.”

and like word vomit, before i can stop myself, i’m speaking, “my friend recently cheated on her boyfriend, and i can’t tell if i should tell him or let him find out on his own.”

their heads turn to me and i shrink in my seat as i realize what just escaped my lips.

“oh my god, i’m not supposed to be telling that to anyone.” my hand covers my mouth, and a few of the guys laugh at my actions.

“you should definitely tell him.” John shrugs, “he deserves to know.”

“i thought so too, but if i do tell him, does that make me a horrible friend?” the guys all start shouting different things along the same lines.

some telling me it doesn’t make me a bad friend, while others telling me that i shouldn’t be friends with her anymore anyways.

“has she done anything else?” Luke asks, and i scrunch my nose.

“cheating wise, no: just one drunken kiss with some guy.” i start. “but she told him she was sick to get out of meeting his parents.”

i clap my hand over my mouth again, shocked that these secrets are just tumbling out of me.

“fuck, i shouldn’t be telling you guys these things.”

the guys cackle and Dawson changes the subject, apparently just remembering a story of something that happened to him back home over the summer.

i remain quiet for the next fifteen or so minutes, just listening as the guys go back and forth, telling stories of their summers, until i feel Jack’s hand on my shoulder.

“hey, i’m heading home, do you want me to drop you off at your house?”

i eagerly accept his offer, happily willing to leave now and avoid paying for an uber during surge pricing. the both of us bid goodbye to his teammates and his brother, who says he’ll hitch a ride back to the apartment with Dawson, before we head out to his car.

i smile as he opens the car door for me, allowing me to climb in before he shuts the door again and jogs around the front of the car, slipping into the drivers side.

i don’t need to give him my address, our second date having been at my apartment, so i just clasp my hands tightly together in my lap, both of his on his steering wheel.

“i had fun tonight.” he tells me as we pull up to my apartment building.

“yeah, your friends are nice.”

not a complete lie. they are nice, i’m just not sure i got along with them, or more so, that they liked me.

“can i walk you up?” i accept his request and he exits the car, running around it to open my door before i get the chance to.

i mentally prepare myself on the silent elevator up to my apartment, readying myself to have him tell me that he doesn’t think we fit.

i was awkward tonight, breaking a glass, stumbling over my words, tripping, googling things that should be common knowledge, and telling secrets i had no business telling.

i couldn’t think of any worse ways to ruin a potential relationship.

when we reach my apartment, Jack stops me in front of my door, and before he gets the chance to belittle my dignity any further than i, myself, already have, i’m speaking up.

“i completely understand if you don’t wanna continue this.” i sigh, finding sudden interest in my shoes. “i made a complete fool of myself tonight.”

“why would you think i don’t wanna see you again?” he sounds hurt, his finger hooking under my chin and pulling my head up to look at him.

i chuckle lowly, “you can’t take me anywhere. every time i go out, it’s social suicide.”

“so you’re a bit clumsy and you need time to click with my friends and their humor, so what?” he shrugs, “i think you’re cute. and i’m incredibly honored that you wanted to flirt with me.”

i groan, my face flushing, and i tip my head back to look up at the ceiling.

“oh god, that was so embarrassing.” i whine.

“it was sweet.” Jack chuckles, pulling me into his chest. his arms wrap around me and i melt into his embrace, his chin resting on top of my head.

“i really like you, y/n. and tonight may not have gone the way you would’ve liked, and i can respect that, you’re allowed to feel that way, but i really liked it. i got a chance to figure out more about you and what you’re like, and it only solidified that i’d really like to keep getting to know you, see where this could lead.”

my head snaps up to look him in the eyes, “you would?”

he giggles at my actions, nodding his head. “yeah, i would.”

his head dips down and i suck in a breath as his lips near mine.

“can i kiss you?” he questions, and i nod.

“yes, please.”

his lips slot against mine, moving in sync and pulling me even closer to him if it’s possible. his hands slide up to cup the back of my neck, his tongue tracing my bottom lip and i part my lips to allow him entrance.

what starts slow and passionate, turns into something hot and heavy. i huff as he pulls away, my lips chasing after his and making him smile.

“do you wanna come inside?” i ask him, my voice low and sultry, and his eyes darken almost instantly.

he smirks, answering only by taking my keys from my hands and unlocking my door, leading me into my own apartment.

“ya know, i don’t think you needed that google search. you’re pretty good at luring me in all on your own.”

#jack hughes #jack hughes x reader #jack hughes imagine #jack hughes fic #jack hughes blurb #nj devils #nhl imagine #nhl fic #faithlynn’s writings <3

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hidden-poet · 14 days

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Commander Snow; 9

Commander Snow

Summary; Under the advice of Dr Gaul Coriolanus returns back to district 12 where without blinding light of lucy-grey he could see you.

Warnings; dead dove to do not eat, stalking, unrequited love, breeding kink, violence, possessive!Snow, unco/dubco, sexual content, she/her pronouns, explicit, violence, death, sexual assault

Editor: @hotline-to-hell

chapter one

Chapter two

Chapter three

Chapter four

Chapter five

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

chapter 9

When you woke in the morning, the feeling of crushing weight had been released from your chest. The cold mountain air was easy to breathe, and you were now at ease with your loved ones so close.

It had been three weeks since you had escaped. Not a soul had bothered you here. The mountain was too steep and difficult to search.

You felt safe with Edmund here. Like the nightmare was finally over.

Each morning when you woke, Edmund was the first you would look for. You often found him just outside your cabin door by the campfire.

This morning was no exception.

“Good morning,” he greeted. He was chopping large blocks of wood into smaller pieces for the fire.

“Hey. Did you need a hand?” You walk down the steps of the cabin to where he worked.

“Sure. Can you make a pile from the wood?”

You trip over the sole of your broken boot. They were too old to survive the mountains. Edmund stops his work to watch you trot over, trying to kick your shoe back in place.

“I was going to go down later this morning to pick up some more flour, and fruit. I’ll see if Vincent’s daughters have any spare shoes.”

You hated when he went down the mountain to get more supplies. Always sure that he wouldn’t return.

“I’d prefer it if you didn’t,” you comment.

“Even if they’re not your size, it’d be better than what you got.”

“I meant to go down. It’s dangerous. Peacekeepers are still looking for us.”

“Ah, I’ll be right.” Edmund takes up his work again, swinging the ax down, “They’re looking in the wrong spots anyway. I had Frances tell a guard you were hiding in the canal beneath the wash house. They’ll be searching for weeks.”

You imagine Coriolanus wading through dirty water and laugh at the thought.

“In any case. My shoes will be fine. I don’t want you wasting your money on me.”

“My money? It’s you who got Snow to send the money to your mother. Boy, was I glad to get that letter!”

He stands tall and pulls an imaginary letter out of his pocket, pretending to read it.

“Dear Edmund, I think of you every day. Wishing, wanting, waiting for you to come to me. I dream about how handsome you are. Strong and smart too.”

You laugh at him.

“I think Snow wrote that one.”

He laughs with you but all too soon the mood turns back somber.

“I was really worried about you, you know? We all were."

He reaches out to take your hand into his.

“I was so worried about you!” You twist his hand so you can place a kiss on the back of it.

“I kept thinking about you trapped with him. I had no idea what he was doing to you.”

You knew what he was insinuating and the thought of it made you shudder. You were his. Would he want you less if he believed that Coriolanus had already touched you? Was that why he had reverted to treating you like a kid? He hadn’t touched you like lovers do since you have been here. Was it because Coriolanus had already marked his territory?

You push his hand away, irritated at the thought.

“He didn’t do anything to me.”

He reaches back and brushes over the almost healed bruised spots on your neck. You recoil in embarrassment. The night in the kitchen fills your mind. You felt a pool of embarrassment form in your stomach. You should have hated it all but as you remember it, your legs squeeze tighter. It felt good, and you didn't feel like a victim because of it.

“You know it doesn’t matter. What he did or didn’t do. It doesn’t change anything.”

“Shut up,” you beg. “Let's just agree to never talk about him again. He’s gone, or will be. Dead to the district and to us.”

“Okay,” Edmund agrees. “I am sorry.”

You felt bad for lashing out at him when he was only trying to help. You had promised yourself just days ago to be the best thing that had ever happened to him.

“I’ll go cook breakfast, alright? ‘’

Edmund had caught some fish just yesterday. Even scaled and prepared them for you. And this is how you repaid him?

You go back into the cabin and start to warm up the hot plate in the corner. Coriolanus was far away, yet he still seemed to haunt you. Sometimes you felt his fingertips graze your skin.

He came to you at night mostly, when Edmund wasn’t around to distract you.

You would wake up swearing that you could feel his weight on top of you. You would wake up checking for bruises from where he held you down but your skin was clear.

You thought the clear air would push him out but he was stuck and you couldn’t shake him out.

Would it always be like this? Would your life with Edmund be plagued by thoughts of Coriolanus?

No. You just need to focus more on Edmund. Time would take care of the rest.

You push any other thought apart from cooking the fish out of your head. Preparing the food to perfection would exonerate you from your earlier thoughts.

—-

Nights were colder up in the mountains then at the compound. Edmund lent you a jacket but it did little to keep out the cold. It added to your sleep troubles. Some nights you would only get an hour or two. Some nights you wouldn’t sleep at all.

You toss and turn next to your mother, trying not to wake her. You felt unsettled. Too unsettled to sleep.

Edmund slept on the floor beside you thinking that it might help you sleep.

You found yourself wanting to be held. After nights with Coriolanus you had gotten used to being coddled.

You move off the bed and onto the floor next to Edmund.

“Hey, stranger,” he whispers.

A lazy arm is thrown over you but it isn’t enough.

You push closer. “Tighter,” you demand.

He obliged but it still wasn't enough. Coriolanus would hold you so tight, you felt like it was hard to breathe. You used to hate it but as it turns out you can’t sleep without it.

Edmund smelt nicer. A soft woody smell.

He treated you nicer too. Let you choose what you did. You could be angry with him if you chose to. He wouldn’t seek to punish you for it.

Coriolanus tried to buy your love. Edmund tried to earn it.

You would learn to sleep without needing to be held in time.

In the meantime Edmund would be there to support you.

—-----

You sit with Edmund by the campfire while the others sleep. Edmund had paid a informant handsomely to relay District information. He came once a week, late at night to avoid being caught.

You throw a stick into the fire, your boredom and irritation building the longer it takes.

“Do we have enough money for him to keep coming up here to tell us the same thing? Peacekeepers are still searching, Snow’s angry. I could tell you that.”

“Roger has his use. He only needs to give us one piece of crucial information to make the money worth it.”

“And if we run out before he gives it to us?”

Edmund throws his own stick in the fire, watching it burn.

“We’ll be right. We still have the three panams from Snow. I have a little left in savings, by the time all that runs dry, it’ll be mining season again.

“Mining season? Surely this will be over by then. We can’t hide here amongst everyone.”

“What choice do we have, Y/N? The Peacekeepers haven’t let up. We can’t go back to the District. When you mine together, you become family. They wouldn’t betray me.”

Betray him, sure. But you were no one to them. You open your mouth to argue this point but the sound of kicked rocks draws your attention.

A little man in gray, worn clothing and a cap covering his bald head is lightened by the fire.

“You’re late.” Edmund comments.

“Yeah well, Peacekeepers have doubled patrolling the area at night. I come late or I don’t come at all.”

“Well?” Edmund pushes. He stands up with the coins in his hands.

“Ravenstill’s dead. Snow’s gone back to the Capitol,” the man spits out on the grass before continuing talking, “Saw him get on the train this mornin’ myself.”

You sigh in victory. He was gone. Now all that was left was to wait out the attention span of the Peacekeepers.

“Hold on now. I didn’t say he was staying away. Peacekeeper tells me he’ll be back by the time the week is out with the new Commander.”

“But then he’s gone, right? District 12 can’t have two Commanders?” You rise next to Edmund.

The older man shrugs his shoulders. “Maybe. He’s offering a large reward for your capture.”

“Yeah, well I’m offering your life.” Edmund’s voice is hard and threatening. He throws the coin pouch at the man who catches it.

“Settle, boy. I ain't no traitor. I am just saying it seems unlikely that he would offer up such a price only to walk away.”

“Keep us updated on the movements of Snow and the areas the Peacekeepers are targeting.”

The man opens the coin pouch to look inside before nodding his head and turning back the way he came.

You take hold of Edmund’s arm. You worried for his fate if you were found. You worried for your own fate. He was unbearable when you failed to escape. Now you have succeeded, what laid ahead if you were to return?

—------

You began to have nightmares of Coriolanus finding you. You would wake with your mother's arms wrapped around you, and Edmund calling your name.

The dreams always ended the same, no matter how they started; with everyone dead at your feet.

You would run and hide from him in the forest like the night at the cabin. He would find his way into the cabin late at night and crawl on top of you while your protectors slept. One time he dropped from the sky.

But you woke to find he hadn’t found you yet.

You avoided going to sleep. Your mother joined in solidarity, despite your protests. She would stay up with you to chase the bad thoughts away.

Edmund's mother stayed up too. She didn’t want to be the only adult asleep.

You all wait for the update Roger will bring.

You sit next to Edmund watching the flames. You don’t hear the man approaching until Edmund's mother greets him. The man offers a head nod back but his attention is for Edmund.

“Peacekeepers are still searching. Mainly in the city blocks. Rumor that she was seen selling cupcakes in town.”

You scoff at the thought. At least it kept the Peacekeepers preoccupied.

“Alright,” Edmund throws the money to Roger but the man doesn’t disappear, “Was there something else?”

“Her brother,” your heart stops beating. “They got him locked up in the Capitol jail.”

You shoot up from the log in a panic.

You feel Edmund grab your hand but can’t hear the words that he is telling you.

“It’s alright. It’s alright,” he finally breaks through, “They won’t hurt him. He’s all the leverage they’ve got.”

“God. Edmund, what if they do? It’ll be my fault.” Your tears choke you as you speak.

“They won’t. He’ll be safe, okay. He wouldn’t kill him unless he knew you knew.”

“What are we going to do? I have to go back. He’ll let him go if I-”

“Don’t be stupid. If you go back now, he’ll use Archie to keep you in line forever.”

“We can’t leave him there.”

“We won’t. If he wants the presidency he’ll have to go back to the Capitol. We wait him out, and when the new Commander comes, he’ll see Archie was kept for no reason and we will buy him back.”

Your mother sat sobbing and you joined her.

Dear God, what have you done?

“From what I was told, they ain't hurt him.”

“See?” Edmund says, “So long as you stay hidden, there would be no point in hurting him.”

Edmund’s mother comes over and wraps her arms around her elder son. Archie was special to her too.

You had put all her sons in danger. In her heart, there was no more room for you.

—------------

The news of Archie’s arrest had dampened spirits. The days were long and everyone was irritable.

Edmund feared for his friend. You feared for your brother.

He had spent all his life protecting you, now only for you to get him killed. You wished you were still a little girl waiting by the door for your older brother to come home from work. It was a similar feeling to now. The dread of him not coming home filled you.

You wondered how Coriolanus got him on the train. Was it under threat? Did he beat Archie into submission? Or did he lie and deceive Archie?

Your mother was adamant that his capture was not your fault. Even if that was true, Archie’s detention was. You knew Coriolanus would let you trade yourself for your brother. But Edmund was right, if you folded now your family would always be ready for capture to be used against you.

Edmund’s mother was less sympathetic to it all. You had dragged her family into this and now the boy she considered a third son was rotting in jail because you were too precious to submit to the Commander like the rest of District 12.

She was cold to you, never speaking directly to you and only offering glaring stares. Being treated so terribly oddly felt validating. People should be angry with you. You had put them in danger.

You look at Edmund's little brother across the other side of the campfire. He clung to his mother's skirt, resting his head on her lap. He was just a boy, you couldn’t bear it if a hair on his head was harmed. And yet you have asked him to hide in a mountain with you. Leave his school and his friends behind.

No one had spoken for hours as you sat together around the camp, so when Edmund moved suddenly it caught everyone's attention.

He shoots up from where you rested upon him on the log to gaze out as smoke ringlets circle the sky.

“Get your things. Make sure to leave nothing behind.”

None of you move, perplexed at his outburst.

“Now!” he shouts, “Move!”

His anxiety caused you all to jump up and follow his command. He kicks dirt over the campfire to make it look unused while the rest of you pack what little you have.

You came with nothing so you focused on the pots and pans, and stripping the beds.

He joins you as you work with his mother and brother to clean their room.

“What’s going on?” His mother demands but doesn’t stop her work of shoving clothes into a sack held by her youngest son.

“Peacekeepers are searching the mountains.”

“Where are we going to go?” you panic. They would search all of the mountains.

“The mines. They won’t search there. Too unstable for people who don’t know what they are doing.”

He takes the bag of pans off you and throws it over his shoulder.

The mines were a dangerous place to hide, and there was no certainty that the Peacekeepers wouldn’t search them. If they did you would be trapped. They would just keep pushing forward until your group reached a dead end.

Nevertheless, Edmunds leads the group to the trail that leads into the mines.

You couldn’t decide what would be worse, dying by a Peacekeeper or in a mine like your father.

But with Edmund’s hand in yours, at least the rocks of the mountain would let you keep him. The Peacekeepers would tear you from him only in death.

Even with the bags of stuff, the trail is tread quickly.

The cave is dark and so, so cold. You hide in the shadows with your group. Edmund stands to the front once he has herded the group into safe standing.

It is completely silent for what feels like a lifetime. Nothing but the birds in the trees and the wind. It lulls you into a false sense of security. Maybe Edmund was wrong. Maybe his source on the other side was mistaken and blew the smoke prematurely. But soon a distant sound of heavy tire treads could be heard rolling up the hill.

You ignored the first sign of people approaching. But as they got heavier and the talking got louder, it got harder to assure yourself that you wouldn’t be found.

You clutch Edmund's arms. You feel it move to reach for the pocketknife in his pocket.

Peacekeepers call to each other. They were close, you could hear clearly as they spoke.

“Hey, let's go.”

“Commander Snow said every inch”.

“You lookin’ to get killed? Those mines collapse all the time.”

You hold your breath waiting. Should you walk out now to save everybody else?

“Come on, man. No one’s here. We’ve still got half the forest to get to. Come on.”

You feel Edmund relax under you as the Peacekeepers walk away.

None of you move. The threat remains in the woods. None of you were safe until the Peacekeepers were out of the woods and had reported to Coriolanus that nothing was there.

The mountains were large, you wondered how many Peacekeepers had been spared to search it. Even if thirty men, it would take a whole day at least.

It was a whole day spent in the cave, waiting for the Peacekeepers to come back. But no sound was ever heard.

Night falls before Edmund makes the call to investigate.

His mother kisses him before he leaves.

You cringe under her stare. You had put her baby boy in danger. It was your fault that she now had to hide in the mountains away from her home.

It will be a rocky start once all of this is over. How could you work to earn back her affection after all the pain you have caused her?

Edmund's little brother had taken over the role of protector. He stood at the front of the cave, tall and fierce like his brother had. He clutched his knife and looked out into the night with a hunter's eyes.

Edmund was gone for hours but his little brother never tired of his role. If Peacekeepers turned up, the little boy was ready.

You watch over him as his mother makes what little she can from the food.

A dark figure cast into the cave, and you grab the little boy, pulling him back against you to protect him. It was too tall, too broad for Edmund. You shrink back into the shadows as it approaches, reaching down to pull the knife from the boy. On instinct, you open your mouth to scream but it is Edmund's voice that calls you.

“They are gone. Cars are gone, and there are no markings to pick up the search. They won’t return.”

You shake the fear out of you and release Edmund's brother from your protective hold.

Coriolanus had weaved himself into your mind. Every shadow; every sound was him.

You needed Edmund to take his place, but he often acted like a ghost to you, touching you only in reproach.

You wanted to keep something from Coriolanus' reach. To give some shred of you to Edmund that could never be given back.

You started by hugging him tight.

—---

You had decided to sleep with Edmund at the first opportunity after the scare yesterday.

It was hard to pin him down between his hunting, working around the camp, and his family.

You felt like his shadow as you lingered, trying to single out his attention.

He would offer you a smile every time you saw him but wouldn’t stop his work.

You followed him into the woods but his brother would insist on coming to learn how to shoot.

Back at camp, his mother blocked you from his attention. It seemed impossible to gain an audience with him.

You tried to tell him what you wanted but the words would never form in your mouth. He was always too busy to hear them anyway. Telling you to wait until back at camp to tell him what you were trying to say. But camp was too crowded so you always pretended to forget what you wanted to say.

It took three days of pining before the mothers took the washing to the lake. It would take them all day to rinse and dry the clothes and sheets. Normally you would go and help but today you had a goal in mind.

You hide Edmund’s catch from this morning and tell Edmund’s brother that another animal had run off with dinner tonight. You had asked him to go catch fish but he was determined that he could catch actual prey. He was a hunter like his brother, he insisted.

Whatever got him lost for a couple of hours. He didn’t actually have to catch anything but you hoped he did. You would boast about him at dinner. He was a good kid and deserved more attention.

“Hey,” Edmund greeted you. He had gone to collect more firewood and you had grown impatient waiting for him to get back.

“Where is everyone?”

You don’t answer him. He looked so handsome, slightly covered in dirt from his work.

You wanted this to be the moment you remember forever. If Coriolanus did find you, you wanted to at least have this memory of Edmund.

He looks confused as you grab his arm and pull him into the cabin but follows your direction.

You slam the door shut and push Edmund up against the wall, cementing your body like what had been done to you on so many occasions.

You kiss him hard, letting him know how badly you need him.

He stills you with a firm grip on your shoulders, tilting his head higher out of your reach.

“What are you doing?”

“I want it to be you. Not him.” Even on your tippy toes, you could not reach him.

“Not now,” he scolds.

“Yes now,” you refute, “I can feel him getting closer every day.”

Edmund looks down upon you, taking your face gently in your hands.

“You’re safe. He’s not going to get you. I’ll keep you safe.”

You knew he would try but you felt Coriolanus in your bones. You knew he would catch you.

“Please,” you whine. Your hands reach for his belt but he traps your hands.

“You are not going to give me this under threat. He’s not going to persuade you to do something you’ve had the past few years to do yourself.”

“I want to,” you protest. You manage to capture his lips again and he mercifully kisses back.

His barrier was weak. You were sure you could break it down. His hands held your hips and not your wrists, almost giving you permission.

“Edmund! Edmund!” The sound of his little brother's voice was heard only seconds before the door opened.

You separate. Edmund looked almost relieved. He eyes you by his side but gives his attention to his brother. You had broken down his wall but he was saved by the bell.

“Look!” the little boy proudly held up a small dead rabbit. You wished you insisted on the fish.

“Good job, buddy.” Edmund moves from you to his brother, straightening his jacket as he walks.

“I’ll help you dress it.” Edmund doesn’t look at you as he leads his brother back out to the open.

“I can do it!” The little voice demanded.

“I know, buddy. But we can’t afford to lose any meat.”

You could cry at the sense of rejection. Edmund wouldn’t give you another opportunity. You had just wanted to show that you loved him but he would have to settle for words.

—----

You were cold to Edmund the following days, even as you tried to let it go. You wouldn’t look at him as you passed him his meals. Would only speak to him to answer a question. You wouldn’t say more than what was needed.

He still slept on the floor next to you despite your behavior.

You knew he was trying to protect you by his rejection but it stung.

Coriolanus had made you feel desirable. He performed extraordinary measures just for a kiss. And here you were throwing yourself at Edmund, begging him for just that, only to be tossed aside.

Was Edmund's affections real or just a product of Coriolanus interference?

You felt stupid for making the first move. You should have just forgotten the whole thing. Edmund was loyal. He just got confused, and you played the fool. Now you had put him in an uncomfortable situation that could risk any relationship with him after this ordeal.

You loved him but you should have stayed silent about it.

Half of you hoped that Coriolanus would find you and take you away. Maybe Edmund would feel guilty about his rejection, and regret it.

You roll over in bed towards where Edmund is lying on the floor.

No, that’s not true.

You’d rather be Edmund’s doormat than Coriolanus' bride.

—---------

Coriolanus stood backstage at the presidential show. They would perform now for the audience. Answering questions, and charming the crowd. Coriolanus should feel on top of his game. He was known for being charming. It was all he had for the longest time.

Augustus stood at the other side of the stage, Coriolanus could see him through gaps in the curtains talking to his campaign manager.

Coriolanus couldn’t bear to talk to anyone until he was forced to.

His thoughts were occupied with you. All of the District was searched, and all he received from it was rumors. A few whispered leads but nothing to truly go on.

He needed to shake you out so he could focus on his night.

He hated you now more than ever. It was one thing to betray him, it was another to interfere with his presidential campaign. You should have been here now to support him.

But instead, you had run off with another man. He should have killed Edmund when he had the chance. Coriolanus had kept him as a pawn but Edmund had turned himself into a knight.

Lucky was warming up the crowd to introduce the candidates. Coriolanus couldn’t be thinking of this now. You were here. You had gone back to the apartment and he found you there. There was no hole in the fence Peacekeepers failed to find, and Edmund was dead.

When he went back to the Snow penthouse tonight, he would find you there. Drinking tea with Grandma’am and Tigris.

Coriolanus hears his name being called and he enters the stage with a smile.

District 12 was a small place, you couldn’t hide forever. Coriolanus would take the first train back tonight and follow every lead himself.

—----------

You were adding spices to the stew when wildflowers popped up under your face.

Edmund stood behind you with a shy smile.

“I am sorry. Please stop being angry with me,” he begs.

You take the flowers from him to show you are not hostile.

“I am not angry. I just-” you pause your words unsure on what to say, “You haven’t kissed me or even really touched me since I’ve been here. If you don’t feel the same way that's fine, Just-”

“You’re really stupid. You know that?” he cuts you off. He takes a step towards you. You take it as an invitation to place your hands on his arms.

“I’ve loved you since I can last remember. And you take me giving you a little space after you’ve just spent a ridiculous amount of time as a hostage to a man who thinks torturing is the same thing as courting, as a sign I ain't interested?”

You kiss him gently and he allows you to. Your heart swelled under his words. He loved you.

“I meant what I said though. I ain't touching you under threat. When the time’s right, and it’s just the two of us, I’ll give you anything you want. But allow yourself to heal first. I don’t want you to regret anything.”

You kiss him again to show your gratitude.

“Thank you. I am sorry, Edmund. I love you.”

“I love you too, stupid.”

Coriolanus shakes Lucky Flickerman's hand as the crowd cheers for him. Presidency was close even if you were far.

—------

Despite not having a choice, camp life was agreeable. You worked closely with Edmund, helping him where you could and supporting him where you could not.

Your mother seemed happy too, despite her son being in the Capitol jail. But plans were already forming to get him out. And he was safe, or at least relatively safe. You had no idea what he faced but you knew it would not be death. Not yet. Not without Coriolanus knowing that you knew what had happened to him.

The new Commander of District 12 was sworn in yesterday. Coriolanus was there to hand over the title. Roger had said he seemed uptight and disinterested in the affair. You were sure Coriolanus would be gone soon.

Back to the Capital where he belonged. An air of victory floated around you. He would be president and you would return to District 12 where you belonged, but as Mrs. Flair.

You no longer had nightmares of Coriolanus. Soon this memory would fade into a distant dream.

But it all happened so fast; a loud banging noise woke you, and dozens of pairs of boots stomped across the floor. Edmund woke too, tried to fight them off but there were too many of them. All in protective gear and all with weapons.

They drag him and your mother out. None of the Peacekeepers touch you even as you hit and yell.

It was early morning, the sunlight had just been cast over the mountains but the ground was still frozen and wet with condensation.

Edmund and your mother were thrown on the ground and held down while their hands were cuffed behind their backs. Edmund's mother and brother soon followed.

You grapple with a Peacekeeper trying to cuff Edmund's hands. He does his best to avoid you but no one pulls you away. Your hands remain free and none of the Peacekeepers make a move to trap you.

“Please,” you beg amongst the crying and Edmund’s yelling.

You almost don't recognize him. His hair had grown out, and he wore an expensive red coat instead of his Commander uniform.

But his eyes remained the same. Blue and fierce they gazed down at you. You had run straight past him without noticing.

You rush to him in panic, falling at his feet and grabbing his black pant leg in a tight hold.

“Coriolanus, please,” you beg him, “Please I’ll go back. Just release them.”

He ignores you. Nodding to a Peacekeeper who takes a long length of rope from his belt and throws it over the branch of a tree. Another two bring Edmund to his feet, pushing him as he resists.

His mother wails, joining your begging.

“No! No! Wait please!” They continue to set up the rope.

“Coriolanus, please!” you had time to beg as the Peacekeeper does the knot.

He continues to watch Edmund, listening to Edmund's insults rather than your cries.

“Commander, please. I won’t ever do it again. I’ll be perfect.”

He still ignores you. Not even glancing at you as you beg him from the dirt.

“No, no.” The Peacekeeper finishes the knot and fastens it around Edmund's neck.

You go to reach him. You would hold him up if you had to, but Coriolanus caught you by your hair and held you in place.

Edmund kicks like a fish out of water as the rope is pulled by two Peacekeepers on the other side.

You pull against Coriolanus' hold, almost yanking your hair out trying to reach him.

Edmund looks at you as he struggles. His hold body shook, and he kicked at the air in hope. His lips half form your name but it never quite parts from his lips.

Coriolanus does let you go but it was too late. Edmund had stopped kicking. Stopped blinking. Stopped breathing.

You run to him anyway, dropping where he hung.

You reach out and touch his foot as it sways.

“Kiss your mother goodbye, and let’s go.” His voice shoots ice down your spine.

You wanted to scream and yell and cry, but you could do nothing but stare at the dirt in front of you. The sound of crying filled your ears. Dear god, this was all your fault.

Coriolanus doesn’t ask you again, just grabs a fistful of hair and yanks you to movement.

You felt too disorientated to fight back.

He drags you past Edmund's crying mother and brother who couldn’t tear their eyes away from the tree.

You wanted to reach out to say something, but Coriolanus was in a rush to get back to the Capitol.

“Mum,” was all you could call out as you pass her.

He drags you along to a parked patrol car and throws you in the cage used for rebels.

It felt as if the earth had swallowed you whole. There was no fight left in you. All you felt was despair.

Coriolanus had no pity for you. He barely glanced at you as he locked the cage and closed the door.

You lay in the back in your borrowed nightdress and Edmund’s jacket. You bring it up to your face as you sob. He was dead. All hope of a happy future was gone with him. You would remain Coriolanus’ slave until the day you died.

The journey throws you around as they speed down the hill and back to the city section of the District.

You sob the entire way. Edmund was dead because of you. Your brother was in jail. Your mother is now all alone in this world. You wanted to die too. It would be kinder than this existence.

Edmund was dead because of you. His family left without their provider because of you. Your heart ached. Your grief suffocated you. You gasp for air but your sobs block any from reaching your lungs.

What have you done? Why did you think you stood a chance of escape?

You begged the universe to turn back time. You wouldn’t go to the jail. You were trying to do the right thing but your kindness had led to your world being ripped apart.

Why did you have to do it, you thought to yourself. Life could have been so sweet if you weren’t so foolish.

What would your life be like now? Coriolanus wouldn’t be taking you back to the Compound now there was a new Commander. Were you going to the Capitol so soon?

You had a hard time adjusting to life at the Compound. How would you ever survive the capital?

Would you survive the Capital? After Coriolanus had finished with you, would he keep you around after you had betrayed him?

He seemed a different man. Could he still say he was in love with you? Or has that game now ended?

The car stops at the train station. Talking and car doors slamming cut through the business of the station.

The harsh light enters when the door is yanked open by Coriolanus.

You don’t want to get out, hoping to get shot for your resistance.

Coriolanus drags you out by your ankle, taking a tight hold of your arm as he gets you upright and pushes through onto the train.

You don’t struggle against him as he leads you through the busy station. What would be the point?

You enter first class, and the doors get locked by maids behind you.

The only word you can say is “no”, over and over again.

This couldn’t be happening. Was this just another bad dream? Please, just let this be a bad dream.

Coriolanus shoves you into a booth, and you slump against the window. He sits next to you trapping you in. You had no energy to move. Only sob against the cold glass.

You should have just saved yourself the trouble and stayed. Why did you have to anger him?

With the most important passenger on board, the train moves out of the station.

“Enough,” he tells you. But you couldn’t follow his command even if you tried.

You watch the District shoot past you. How you wished you could open the window and throw yourself out.

The rocks pass, and the trees begin to blur into one another. Coriolanus is silent for hours as you cry against the window still.

You could feel him sometimes looking at you but otherwise, he just sat there. Fixing the jewelry he wore. A gold pinky ring with your ring stacked on top of it. His coat buttons were dipped in gold. He had a new watch, a present from Tigris for returning home.

It was only when you shifted from the window and slumped over the table did he speak.

“We were supposed to be in the Capitol weeks ago.”

The Capitol. His presidential run. You had just lost everything you had ever known and he talks about being behind schedule.

You sit up to face him. He was no longer the Commander you knew but something far more fearsome.

“You think I care about the Capitol?!” You cry, “You took everything from me! You ruined my life,” you scream at him.

He grabs your jaw in his hand and pushes your head back against the glass. The glass is solid and cold as you are pressed against it.

“Your mother has joined your brother in the District 12 jail. I would be very careful what you say to me. Did you think this was a game? Did you think I wouldn’t search for you? Wouldn’t find you?”

The door slides open and Coriolanus releases you. A servant walks in with breakfast, and another behind her with juice and pastries.

They set the food and cutlery down in silence. You notice they don’t look up or around, only at what they are doing.

Coriolanus doesn’t thank them as they leave. He doesn’t eat either.

“Coriolanus, are they going to be okay?”

“We could have just left, Y/N. No one had to get hurt.”

You turn back to the window as you speak, “I know.”

The food sat at the table for five minutes untouched before Coriolanus called for it to be taken away again. The servants come quickly and the food is taken away in the same manner it was delivered; quickly and silently.

“It’s three days to the Capitol.” he stands up as he spoke to you, “Two days after that they will announce the new president of Panem. Whatever this is, it’s finished. You do the slightest thing to displease me and your family will follow Edmund.”

You flinch at his name. Edmund would haunt you for the rest of your days. You hoped he would.

“Do you understand me?” he asks.

“Yes, Commander.”

He flinches at the name but doesn’t comment. He clears his throat and walks away into the other carriage.

You pick up on your crying again. You should have known that your rage only ever backfired on your loved ones.

Your throat ached and your eyes were puffy, soon you had no more tears left to cry.

You try a door to see where it leads but it must have a sensor on it because it didn’t open as easily as it did for Coriolanus. He had trapped you in the room. This was your life now. Waiting for Coriolanus to decide what to do with you.

You curl up on the seat and let the train lull you to sleep.

The servants must have come back in during your nap for when you woke the table was filled with food again. A large jug of water sat on the table. You finish all of it and lay back down again.

Coriolanus returns much later, around dinner time.

“You’re still there,” he observes as the door lets him through.

“Where else could I go?”

His hand presses a large button and what you thought was a wall slides to reveal a bedroom.

“You should wash up for dinner. You have dirt all over you.”

You did want to take a shower, but you didn’t want to lose Edmund’s jacket.

Coriolanus steps forward to grab you, but you rise upon seeing him move. Nothing he said was ever a suggestion.

The room was large, with a queen-sized bed decorated in a rich, heavy fabric of deep blue. There were four large pillows and a set of smaller ones with the Panem emblem on them.

A wall was built to hang clothes. You could only see three sets of Coriolanus’ clothing and a dress and a nightgown for you.

On the other side, there was door to a spacious bathroom. You had thought the commanders apartment bathroom was impressive but now you could see why the Capital looked down at the districts.

This bathroom alone was almost as big as the bedroom in the Commander's quarters. Beautiful gold and white titles lay across the floor. A white marble sink with a gold tap. You reach out to touch it.

‘‘Take your clothes off.” Coriolanus demanded. He reaches for the buttons on his own shirt causing the panic to rise in you again.

What would it matter what he did to you? But still, you felt too frozen to move.

He gets halfway through the buttons on his shirt to see you still dressed. His eyes darken as he reaches out to you.

You shrink back against the marble countertop as he yanks Edmund's jacket from your shoulders and throws it to the ground. Your eyes follow it there, as Coriolanus slips your borrowed nightdress off.

You expected more of a reaction from him after all this time. But he seems uninterested in your naked body. He takes your arm and pulls you to the shower head where he fiddles with the tap until the water is to his liking.

He throws you under the hot water while he finishes undressing. The clothes are left on the floor as he joins you in the shower.

You move out of his way to let him have the water but he pulls you back under and reaches for a soft sponge hanging against the wall.

“Look at you,” he mutters. He scrubs the sponge under your nails to get rid of the dirt that had caked under them.

Satisfied he scrubs the sponge up your arms to your neck and down your back. He scrubs too hard. It feels as if he is peeling off your skin.

He is quick along your stomach. Not spending too much time before moving on.

You flinch when he crouches down to scrub at your legs but he stops mid-thigh and returns to full height, dragging the sponge up your leg and resting on your left hip.

“Are you going to do it now?” It was important that you were clean for him, you supposed.

He drops the sponge, using his hand to wrap around your throat and force you back into the glass.

You don’t look at him as he stares at you. He steps closer, wrapping his arm around your waist and bring you against him.

He rests his forehead against your collar bone, the steam filled the air and fogged your view. He is so still and silent. He had made no move to grope you. You couldn’t tell if he even looked at you. He just held you close and breathed deeply.

The room became hard to breathe in as the water turned into steam. But you were too scared to voice even that complaint. He moved from your collar bone to rest his chin on your shoulder but then went still again.

“Coriolanus?” His name was barely a breath on your lips.

“I am so angry at you,” he said softly. You feel the hand on your throat tighten.

“How could you do that to me?’’ He lifts his head off of you to look you in the eye.

“Augustus has been opening hospitals and amongst the Capitol people, while I have been chasing you around District 12. Do you have any idea how that made me look?’’

You think of your family in jail as you speak. “I am sorry.”

“You’re sorry? Not good enough.”

He looked so different with his blonde wet hair pressed down on his forehead. The ends curled slightly towards his face.

“You won, Coriolanus. What more do you want from me?”

“I don’t feel as if I have won. I feel as if I have been betrayed.”

Your eyes twitched with irritation. He felt betrayed? You were astonished you that he felt like the victim after causing you so much pain. He was the only bad thing to have happened. The cause of his own misery.

“You killed Edmund,” you sobbed, “You killed him.”

You bring a fist against his shoulder, but it landed without true force.

“I let him live once. Remember?”

The memory of target training at the train station flashes through your mind before you could block it.

“What made you think I would make the same mistake twice?”

He releases you to turn off the tap. You stood frozen as he dries himself.

His anger had lit yours so when he exited the bathroom, you followed, wet and dressed only in a towel.

“Edmund was a good man.”

Coriolanus was readying himself for bed. He spared you a irritated look.

“And now he’s a dead man.”

His sentence stung you.

You wiped the running tears off your eyes. “He was a good man,” you repeat.

He was the only man for you. The love of your life, now dead and gone.

“How did you know? Did Roger rat us out?” you ask.

“You did,” you wait for him to elaborate as he dresses in his pajamas, “Your letter to your brother. People disappear all the time up there.”

You feel your heart drop at his words. A new wave of guilt comes crashing over you.

“He was smart hiding there. He knew the area well. And the smoke signals? Very good. I never did find out who was sending them, but what use are they if you don’t see them.”

Was. Knew. No more.

“Well enough to fool my Peacekeepers, but I thought, why would she put that in a letter to her brother? Unless it was to warn him. Why else tell him not to come back? You love your brother, of course you would want him back.”

Tears well in your eyes again.

“Is he okay? Have you hurt him?” you accuse.

“It would serve me no purpose to hurt him.”

His movements are hard and sharp as he puts on his satin button-up shirt.

“So you’ll release him? Both of them?” They served no purpose to him in the Capitol.

“When I can trust you again.” He spat.

It could be years before a paranoid Coriolanus decided he trusted you.

“You can trust me. I promise. I’ll make it up to you, just please let them go.”

You walk over to him, reaching out to touch him. It normally worked to disarm him. He is receptive to you, taking a hand and placing it against your face.

“You know why I can trust you? Because I have your family locked in a cage.”

He disappears along with his touch, going over to the cupboard and throwing a deep blue matching nightgown on the bed.

He says nothing else before returning to the dining room and leaving you in the bedroom alone.

You cry as you dress, and don’t stop as you throw the small pillows across the room and sink into the mattress.

Everything you did was wrong. People were hurt because you weren’t smart enough to protect them. Your mother and brother sat in a dirty jail cell, and you had put them there.

They bore the consequences of your stupidity.

Your mind ran and ran with your anxiety. Images of your mother and brother being beaten in a small cell. Edmund’s family slowly starving to death without him. The memory of Edmund as he swayed from the rope.

You wallow in bed for an hour before Coriolanus rejoins.

You feel him slip into bed beside you. He wraps his arms tightly around you and for the first time in months you fall asleep easily.

You woke the next morning with the feeling of crushing sadness.

Coriolanus was awake next to you. You could hear him practicing a speech as he laid beside you. You don’t move. You weren’t even sure if you could.

A knock on the door stops him, and he bids the person to come in.

You don’t have to look to know it was a servant with a breakfast tray.

Coriolanus reaches for your shoulder to turn you over. You follow his direction and he props a pillow up behind you so you could sit up.

You thank the person as they put a small table over your lap.

You felt nauseous just looking at the food. But asking them to take it away may cause trouble for them so you wait until they leave to reject the food.

You place the table on the floor and roll back onto your side. Your bones felt like cement, and your eyes welled with tears but you didn’t have the energy to cry.

Coriolanus said nothing to you as he eats.

He mutters his speech between sips of coffee. Soon that was finished too, and he rose for the day.

He crosses your eyesight as he approached the wardrobe, and you watch him dress. It seemed odd to see him in anything other than his Commander uniform.

You had never seen Capitol fashion before. It was full of layers and tiny details. The buttons on his shirt had a silver swirl design that caught the light. His shirt was crisp and white with a design of two black flowers on either side, reaching from the end of the shirt to his shoulders.

“I have some work to do. Interviews and thank you letters. So, if you decide to come out be quiet.”

You had no plan to leave your spot, but you nod in understanding.

He doesn’t look or speak to you again as he leaves the room.

You felt as if you had died too. There was no life in you anymore.

You lay for hours in the same spot. Occasionally you could hear Coriolanus as he spoke.

The weight on your shoulder caused it to ache but you couldn’t make yourself move.

The only time you shifted during the hours was when the servants returned to serve you lunch. They took the dirty dishes but also the dirty laundry.

You lunch up to stop the women carrying out Edmund’s brown coat.

“Wait, please!” you grab the worn material off her, “Not this. Leave this.”

The two women look between each other, unsure.

“Mr. Snow said to take everything.”

You swing the jacket over you, positioning yourself in it.

“He didn’t mean this.” Edmund’s faint scent lingered on the fabric. He gave it to you to keep warm at night. You had come to associate it with the feeling of protection.

The young girl bows to you and the other follows suit. As they leave, you know it’s to tell Coriolanus.

You sit and wait for him on the bed.

Coriolanus storms in not moments later.

“The jacket,” he demanded.

“No, Coriolanus. Please let me keep it.”

He launches at you, tearing at the jacket trying to pull it off you. You fight against him, cementing your arms to yourself and trying to wriggle free.

He gets it half off your shoulders. But he grew too frustrated to finish the job. He pulls you up towards him by the collar of the jacket.

“Take the jacket off or I’ll tell them not to bother feeding your mother tonight.”

Edmund was right. Coriolanus was always going to use your family as a weapon.

But the needs of the living overtook those of the dead. You had to make sure they were as safe as you could make them.

He gets off you and you get up to give him the jacket.

As he takes the jacket with one hand, he smacks you with the other.

You make a startled sound but Coriolanus is gone before you finish it.

You return back to your spot and sob into your pillow.

With the jacket now gone, you had truly lost every piece of Edmund.

And with him, you have lost every piece of yourself. Only Coriolanus remained.

————

Three hours after lunch, Coriolanus came to sit on your side of the bed next to you.

“I’ve brought you a cup of tea.”

“Thank you. I don’t want tea.”

Coriolanus’s face is tense as he places the cup on the table next to you.

“They tell me you didn’t have lunch either. Is that your plan? To starve yourself to death before we reach the Capitol?”

“I have no plan,” you admit.

“Well I do. I have lots of plans, and you’re through with delaying them. So Sit up and drink your tea.”

He reaches out to your neck to help you sit up. The tea is placed into your hands but it is him you stare at.

“You look so different.”

His hair was a soft white color as it grew out. His clothes were fashionable and colorful. Nothing of the District 12 Commander remained.

He runs his fingers through his hair, combing it back.

“I am still the same.”

“I don’t think that’s true.” You didn’t think it was possible but he was colder, held himself with somehow more confidence. This was the new leader of Panem.

“What would you know? You never bothered to get to know me.”

“I think I know you better than anyone else.”

He showed you parts of himself you were sure he hid from others. The nightmares. The secret yearning to be taken care of. The heartbreak he carried from the loss of his mother.

“Think, think, think. What have I told you about thinking? You’re no good at it. I’ll do it. Now drink your tea.”

You take a sip of the scalding tea. It quenches some of your thirst.

“Will I ever go back to District 12?” you ask.

You weren’t really sure you would want to.

“No.”

“What’s going to happen to me once we reach the Capitol?”

He sighs, ‘‘That depends on you.”

“Will it be like the compound?”

He laughs humorlessly, “Nothing is like the compound.”

“I meant being locked indoors.”

“Will I let you roam free around the Capitol? No.” He doesn’t look at you as he speaks. His eyes move around the room, looking at the subtle details.

“But if you are well-behaved, and do enough to earn it, I will show you all the Capitol has to offer.”

His eyes move down, back to you.

“You’ll grow to admire the Capitol. You won’t hate it forever.”

You go to refute his statement. Nothing in the Capitol could fill the gaping hole left in you from being torn from your home and family. But a servant knocks on the door, taking Coriolanus’s attention.

He commands them to come in but the small girl only steps upon the threshold and never through it.

“Sir, you have a call.”

“I’ll be right there.” He answers back.

She bows and doesn’t rise until the door is shut again.

“Duty calls,” you taunt.

“Yes.” His eyes are back to being everywhere but on you, “I want that tea finished before I get back.”

As soon as he leaves, you get up and pour the tea down the bathroom sink.

—----

The next morning was the same. You laid in bed for hours, unmoving.

Only this morning they didn’t bother to bring you breakfast. You wondered if you would have eaten it, if it was offered, but your guilt still felt so heavy.

Lunchtime came around and Coriolanus disrupted your wallowing.

“Get up. We reach the Capitol soon.” He orders.

He plucks a dress off the rack and lays it across the bed, just under your feet.

It was a blush pink satin gown that tied in a low ribbon at the back. Matching heels that wrapped around your ankle were placed on the floor below.

You sit up to touch the fabric of the dress, and Coriolanus sneaks behind you with a hair brush.

He begins to untangle your hair but he pulls it too harshly. You could feel the tender spot on your head from where he had pulled it just two days before.

“There will be cameras when we step off the train. Fashion is very important in the Capitol. You’ll have to get used to not wearing the same dress every day.”

He pulls a knot too harshly and you let out a cry of pain.

His hand moves yours from the spot and massages it gently.

“That wouldn’t have happened if you had gotten up at some point.”

He returns the brush to the carry bag and returns to you, holding out his hands.

You take them and he pulls you up out of the bed.

His hands move to your nightdress and he pulls it off to place the pink satin gown over your head. He spins you around so he can tie it in the back.

“Put on your shoes and meet me outside.”

He places a kiss on the back of your shoulder before leaving you.

The shoes are hard to walk in. While not overly tall, the heel itself was narrow. Trying to walk felt like a balancing act. You could only manage small steps.

Coriolanus sat at the booth looking out of the window.

The landscape had changed from long stretches of dry dirt to tall buildings.

You sit down opposite him and gaze out the window at it all.

It seemed unreal.

Every building shined. The Panem flag was hung wherever possible. The sky seemed extra blue.

You had never felt homesick but now you realize why Coriolanus was so eager to get back home.

The scenery disappears as you enter a tunnel and stop at your destination.

Your hand is tugged as Coriolanus heads to the exit with the servants and the bags just ahead of you.

You could hear a commotion as you got closer. Voices overlapped and snapping sounds of flashing cameras joined the noise.

The lights were blinding as you exited the carriage.

Coriolanus seemed in his element. He waved and smiled as he lead you through the sea of cameramen and reporters.

They all shouted at him as they held microphones up to his face. But he didn’t stop to make a comment.

More people surrounded the outside. Peacekeepers made a path to a sparkling black car with their bodies blocking the crowd.

He was hailed a king here, and a tyrant back in District 12. All for the same thing.

The scene was overwhelming. Not only were you in a foreign place without your family, but you felt yourself suffocating amongst the crowd. If one were to break through, the rest would follow ending in a catastrophe.

You were a stranger, an enemy. You did not belong here.

You wanted to turn back to the train but Coriolanus’s hold prohibited such action.

Someone opens the car door for him and he lets you enter first.

The silence that greets you helps to settle your nerves. With a final wave, Coriolanus joins you in the car, and it takes off from the crowd.

He sighs and readjusts his jacket so it falls in front of him.

Your hands shake so you keep them clamped together on your lap.

Coriolanus doesn’t speak to you as you peer out the window.

You felt as if you had stepped onto another planet.

The streets were colorful, both in design and people. Cars gilded next to you and in front of you. There were statues and water fountains on every corner.

All gained from the hard labor of the Districts.

Still, you couldn’t take your eyes off the passing scenery. You are hypnotized for the 20 minutes that the car drives. But it soon stops in front of a large brick building.

“Do you live here?” Was this your new home? You wondered.

“No one lives here,” he answers shortly.

He exits the car, holding the door open for you. Following him out, you hear the voice of a man greet Coriolnaus.

“Mr. Snow. Welcome.”

The man was a little overweight in a suit that was finely tailored to him. He had bleached his eyebrows and mustache, and wore many pieces of jewelry.

“Thank you for meeting with us.” Coriolanus shook the man’s hand but returns it to yours as soon as it ended.

“Of course, Mr. Snow. We were happy to accommodate you. Please, follow me.”

The man leads you both into the building and through the halls but only talks to Coriolanus about the history of the building.

It was a beautiful building that housed artwork and portraits along the walls.

You could tell Coriolanus didn’t care but remained civil. His fingers squeeze yours as he is ushered into a room.

Like everything in the Capitol, it is unnecessarily large and grand. Gold candle holders, rows and rows of pews made of expensive wood, oil painted artwork of important men loomed down at you.

“Just over this way, if you would please.”

The man leads you to a table on a small front stage. There was only one chair in front of it which Coriolanus pulls out for you.

The man passes Coriolanus a pen and tells him where to sign.

He does so quickly and elegantly.

“And now for you, Madam.”

Coriolanus passes you the pen but only small writing covered the page and you were hesitant to sign it.

“What is this?” You look up to the man, who rocked slightly side to side.

“It’s a marriage certificate.” Coriolanus answered for him.

“Marriage?”

Did marriage in the Capitol have the same meaning as marriage in the Districts? What did marriage in the Capitol truly entail and why was Coriolanus so eager to have you sign it?

“Yes. Marriage. Now sign the paper.” His hand curls around yours so you don’t drop the pen.

“Coriolanus-” Your words are cut short when his hand latches itself under your chin and yanks it up, keeping your hand directed at the paper. He forces your hand closer to the line.

“Sign the paper,” he commands. With his hand enclosed around yours, you sign your simple signature next to his cursive.

He releases you once you do.

“If you wanted a wedding then you shouldn’t have run off.” He spat at you.

Your hands shake uncontrollably and your eyes water but no sympathy is given by either man.

“You’ve robbed the Capitol of the wedding of the year, truly!”

“I think the Capitol will survive.” You feel Coriolanus tug you up, and the man follows his lead out the door.

“I am sure you are eager to get home and rest before election day.” the man spoke. His voice echoed through the large halls.

“May I just say what an honor it was to marry you two today! You two kids will set a trend. I’ll have young lovers knocking my door down to elope.”

You sob at his words.

“Forgive her. The journey was long.”

“Of course.”

With only three more steps until the door, the conversation died.

Coriolanus is quick in pace, and propelled you to move faster than you could in your heels.

You could hardly see through the tears in your eyes, so you reach blindly until you feel the car underneath your fingers.

“Thank you, sir.” He shakes hands with the man once again.

“Anything for our future president.”

Coriolanus opens the door and guides you inside as he says goodbye to the man.

He allows you to cry until the car pulls up outside of the apartment, at which he tells you to stop.

He pulls a handkerchief out of breast pocket and wipes the tears from your face as they fall.

From the outside you could hear the driver collecting the bags from the boot.

“You need to stop crying. We are home now.”

You take the handkerchief off him and dap your own tears. He longingly stares out the window.

He almost bounces in his seat. Eager to get up the stairs and back home.

Marriage is not the worst thing to have happened to you, nor the worst thing he could do.

It didn’t really mean anything, you told yourself. The Capitol probably wouldn’t even recognize a marriage between a Capitol citizen and District.

You push his patience as far as it would go before you are able to collect yourself.

“Ready?” he asks.

You give a curt nod and he swings the door open.

The driver passes the bags to a servant dressed in the same white dress as the ones on the train. They take them back into tall metal building.

It reached the sky in height, and a whole community of District 12 in width.

Coriolanus knew his way well. With all the wall ways, and feature spaces of the hotel, you were sure you would get lost escaping the building, yet alone the Capitol.

An elevator you knew as you stood in front of it. They had them in large government buildings that you would sometimes ride as you delivered material from work.

The elevator door opens and he hits the top floor.

As it goes up, you feel your stomach drop. Once you reached the top floor, would you ever go down again? Was your life now confined within this building?

It reaches the penthouse too fast. Your feet refuse to move as the door opens.

Coriolanus tries a gentle tug but as the doors try to close again, he motions turn into a pull.

“We’re almost there.” He digs in his pocket for a key.

His key ring that used to carry so many keys now only held three.

The sound of an opening door is met with a loud pop of streamers.

You flinch as the colorful tissues attack you.

A high pitch scream precedes a weight being thrown at Coriolanus but he catches it easily and with great joy.

You take the chance to jump back out of the way.

“Hey,” he laughs.You watch the cousins embrace. You had once promised yourself that letters would be as close as you got to Tigris and now she stood in front of you.

“Coryo! You’re finally home,” she captures his face in a loving embrace and he smiles back.

A crooning sound overtakes the moment and an old women takes the spot of Tigris.

“My boy. Future president of Panem.”

He leans down and kisses her on the cheek. She turns her head for him to do so, coming eye to eye with you.

She turns to you as Coriolanus releases her.

“Don’t just stand there, child. Come forward, let me take a look at you.”

Grandma’am eyes you, causing you to curl further into yourself.

Coriolanus clears his throat and places his hand on your lower back to move you forward.

“May I introduce Mrs. Snow.”

“Mrs. Snow! Oh Coryo!” Tigris gasps, “How could you?”

“We had too. The media would never have left us alone if they knew. But-” he reaches into his pocket and pulls out a small jewelry box, “We saved the most important part for you: the rings.”

He takes a ring out of the box. Your hand shakes but he holds it steady as he slides the ring on.

Fifty small rectangular diamonds cover a gold band. It was shiny and heavy on your finger.

Tigris gasps upon seeing it but you have no reaction.

He then passes you a gold band and holds his hand out to you.

You push the ring on his finger quickly.

It was enough for Tigris who claps and jumps.

She wraps her arms around your neck while her grandmother lifts your hand up to inspect the ring.

As they give you space, Coriolanus takes it, bringing you back into his arms.

“I want to hear everything!” Tigris says.

She walks to the living room table and takes a bottle of champagne out of a bucket of ice.

It could have been the lack of food and water over the past three days. It could have been the pure overwhelming feeling of it all. But as the cork of the champagne is opened, your knees give way and you collapse unconscious.

Coriolanus manages to catch you and you feel his hard arm under your head.

You hear him call out to you before the darkness fades your vision.

—----------

You wake at midnight in a fright.

You knew you were in a bed but everything was pitch black.

Was everything a dream? Was Edmund alive and just below you?

The answer was no. Coriolanus woke with your fast movements and worked quickly to pull you into his arms.

“Hey, you’re alright. You’re alright.”

You struggle against him in a panic.

“You’re alright. You’re safe,” he consoles.

“No, no, I’m not.” You feel his face under your fingertips and push against him.

He retaliates by capturing both your wrists in his hand, pulling them down.

“Stop it. Calm down now. You’re alright.”

His weight tugs on your wrists as he leans back to flick on the bedside lamp. It cast a yellow light in which you could see him clearly.

He had gone to sleep in only his underwear again. His old Commander ways were still clawing on.

You register that you had been re-dressed into cotton pants and a large top.

“Please, Coriolanus. Let me go. I haven’t done anything,” you cry.

He pulled you closer by your wrists so your body was leaning against his.

"Please, I am sorry,” your tears soak his bare chest but he doesn’t move, “I am so sorry.”

He moves his arms around you so you were cradled but it did nothing to help soothe you.

“No, no, please,” you struggle but his hold was tight. “I never did anything wrong.”

You tried so hard to be good. Now you were being punished for it.

“I know. I know that,” he insisted, bringing you closer.

“It’s okay. Just go back to sleep.”

You can’t. The image of Edmund swinging in the wind haunted you.

“Oh Edmund,” you cried. It wasn’t his fault. He was only trying to protect you.

Coriolanus made no comment given your state.

“It’s alright. Everything is alright,” he repeats. He hums softly, a song that his mother used to sing when he was a child. He was surprised he still remembered it, or most of it at least.

He used to hum it during his school years when academic pressure hindered his sleep.

It rose his anxiety levels just from the association with those years, but it worked to settle you so he continued.

Your mother used to hum you to sleep as well. When you had bad dreams, she would sit on your bed and run her fingers through your hair as she hummed.

It was easier to pretend that you were only a child back in your bed with your mother next to you, protecting you from all the horrors of the world.

—--------------

The next morning you woke as Coriolanus finished dressing for the day.

Your movement gains his attention, he finishes putting on his coat and comes to sit next to you on the bed.

“Hey, how’d you sleep?”.

He runs a warm hand over your face. You sit up to brush him off.

“I’ve told Tigris and grandma’am to leave you alone today so you can rest.”

Your stomach drops at the thought of being isolated again. You couldn’t be left alone with your thoughts today.

Already it’s racing with guilt.

You latch onto his arm.

“No. Coriolanus please, don’t lock me in here.”

He looks to weigh up his options before deciding.

“I won’t. But you need to show me that you can behave. I won’t have you upsetting Tigris or Grandma’am.

“I won’t,” you promise.

“They don’t need to know the full extent of us. Only that we are happy to be here together.”

“Ok, Coriolanus.”

You shove the thick blanket off and swing your body off the bed.

You follow Coriolanus to the kitchen table where Tigre’s and grandma’am sat eating breakfast.

Tigre’s rises as you enter into the room. She keeps her distance so not to overwhelm you.

“Y/N, how are you feeling?” She asks.

“Much better now. Thank you. I am sorry if I offended you yesterday. I wasn't feeling well.”

“No! Of course not.” Tigris exclaims, “God, you’ve been through so much. I couldn’t even imagine how you are feeling right now.”

Your eyes flick to her. Coriolanus had made it seem like her and Grandma’am knew nothing of the truth, but could she know at least part of it?

“You must have been so frightened when those rebels took you to the mountains,” Grandma’am commented between a scone.

Your eyes shoot at Coriolanus, who was already looking at you, silently telling you to be quiet.

A twisted truth is as good as the truth itself in his books.

“Yes, I was. Everyday. But I knew Coriolanus was coming.”

“Our Coriolanus isn’t scared of coward rebels!” Grandma’am exclaims.

Coriolanus was quick to change the subject at the first sound of silence, “Tigris, she hasn’t had breakfast yet.

The breakfast table is near silent as everyone ate.

It was a relief when Coriolanus kissed you goodbye. The company of Tigres was much easier to keep.

—-----‘

Coriolanus was busy now that he was home. Interviews and meetings took most of his time now that the elections were coming up.

You saw little of Grandma’am, but Tigris almost always was in the apartment.

She tried to be kind to you. She often went out of her way to check on you. But you avoided her. Staying in the room you were placed in. If you said the wrong thing to her, it was sure to make its way back to Coriolanus, and your family was to pay for it.

Your days before Coriolanus returned home were filled by looking out the window, or preparing an item of clothing for Coriolanus. He always wanted to have at least one thing on that you had some part in preparing.

He tore off his buttons so you could sew them back on, you shined brand new shoes that didn’t need it, ironed shirts that had already been ironed for him.

You didn’t argue when he asked you to do it.

If you performed an action in the way he wanted, he would give you updates on your family.

From what you gathered, they were fed and allowed an hour outside together.

The day of the election came fast.

It felt as if it happened overnight, but it had been three days since your arrival in the Capitol.

The election was called at eight o'clock which meant the entire day was filled with buzz. People came in and out all day. Coriolanus spent the entire day on the phone, or in between breaks talking to the people in the room.

You sat in his chair as he worked standing. You watched the people as they came in and out. They looked different from people back home.

They all had something unusual about them. Funny color hair, a piercing that stuck out of their face. One thing they all had in common was their high quality clothing. Nothing like the sacks District clothes are made out of.

Grandma’am and Tigris had gone out to prepare themselves for the election. It was nearly night but they had been gone since the morning.

Coriolanus was in the middle of getting a haircut when two females came up to you and requested that you followed them.

Coriolanus told you to do so from where he sat. You didn’t ask why as you followed them to the bedroom.

With the door shut, they tell you to shower and come back so they can dress you for the election.

The news causes you to tense. You were not ready to face the Capitol.

But with no choice, you take a shower and return for them to do their work.

They only talk to each other as they work.

They dress you in a white strapless gown that split up the side to show more white sparkly tulle, and white heels that were shorter and easier to walk in than the pink heels that you had at the train station.

They gossip about elite members of the Capital. Who was cheating on who. Who wore what.

One burns you with a hot iron as she curls your hair because she leans forward to laugh. No apology is given as she continues to talk. She pins small white roses throughout your hair. The pins scrape your head as they enter your hair but you make no complaint.

You were grateful when they finished dressing you. As soon as they begin to pack up, you exit the room without a goodbye.

You run into Coriolanus, still with his team in the living room. He stood in front of a tall mirror as you had taken the main bedroom.

He matched you in white. Admittedly, he looked gorgeous in a double-breasted suit with his white shirt peeking out from it. The first few first buttons were undone and a silver chain with your ring hung around his neck.

He was fixing a white rose to his chest pocket when his eyes caught you in the mirror behind him.

“We are finished here,” he tells the room, who pack up immediately.

He looked nervous, and you supposed he should be. All his life had been leading up to this moment.

He talks low to you so the others don’t hear as they leave, almost whispering in your ear.

“Just a few more hours and you’ll be looking at the President of Panam.”

Your hands shook, and you flexed them to try and shake the nerves out.

Coriolanus, always hyper-aware, noticed, capturing your hands and bringing them up to his face to kiss.

“Shouldn’t I be the one shaking?” he jokes.

“I don’t want to go. You don’t need me there.”

“I do need you there.” He releases you, annoyed at your resistance.

You sit down on the couch as the people make their way to the door.

“Do I need to remind you that your performance tonight is crucial to your family's survival?”

“No,” you say softly, “That’s never left my mind.”

He crouches down in front of you, resting his hands on your waist.

“Good. Now people know you are District, but you’re not to mention it. If anyone mentions it to you, you tell me straight away.” He flicks your chin up so you are looking at him and not at your lap. “Hey, straight away.”

You nod your head in understanding. You had no plan to talk freely with any of the Capitol brood anyway.

“As first lady of Panem, you’ll be required to attend performances like these from time to time. I need to know I can trust you not to embarrass me when you do.”

You nod your head once again, “You can.”

You remember Ravenstill’s wife. All she did was smile and sit pretty. You could do the same, regardless of the pain you felt.

He raises himself slightly to press his lips against yours before rising entirely.

“The car is waiting down stairs.” You rise with him and he takes your hand in his through the walk.

The car ride is silent. Coriolanus began to practice his speech again as you stared out the window.

The Capitol seems quieter than usual. No car buzzed around as you drove. One or two passed but they seemed to be in their own rush. Not a person roamed the street.

All of the Capitol held their breath as they waited for their new President.

The car stops in front of a huge fountain surrounded by a large field. It was out of place amongst the sky scrapers. It was filled with people, all wearing peculiar colorful clothing. Nearly all of them wore a white rose upon their chest.

They surrounded a large stage lit up with bright lights.

Rows of chairs were lined across the back of the stage. People hovered around them, all wearing white like you. They greet Coriolanus as he walks through. Some of them even greet you, but you hate them all the same.

You see his grandmother and cousin sitting directly behind the podium. He seems to be trying to make a beeline to them, but people keep interrupting them.

He keeps his temper, politely dismissing them as he wades through the crowd.

His grandmother jumps up to kiss him. He uses his spare hand to bring her in close.

“President Snow, we salute you,” she says sincerely.

“I’ve not won anything yet, Grandma’am,” but his smirk told that he knew he was about to.

Grandma’am wore a hat of white roses but a simple white dress suit and pearls.

Tigris rose as well to hug her cousin now her grandmother was out of the way. Her strapless white dress hugged her curves right down to her ankles where the dress dissolved into white tulle. You could see the outline of white roses on her dress too. Her makeup was centered around the pale pink eyeshadow that was blown out towards her temple.

Finishing with Coriolanus, Tigris turns and hugs you, but you couldn’t manage it back.

Coriolanus leans down to whisper in your ear, “All you have to do is sit down next to Tigris and smile. Can you do that?”

Your families life depended on it, so you smile back at him to show that you could.

The Panem national anthem began to play bringing a hush over the audience as they all go back to stand in front of their seat and sing.

Coriolanus stood next to you, still holding your hand as he sung. The camera flashed in your face and you decide it was better to sing along.

The song finishes and the large screen behind you switches to a man with a microphone on one side and another man in a field similar to Coriolanus. You assumed the latter was his political opponent.

It was the cue for the people on stage to take a seat. You take yours next to Tigris and Coriolanus walks up to the podium.

Smaller screens are prompted up along the front of the stage so that no one on the stage was facing backwards.

You watch as the man with the microphone gives his introduction, introducing himself as Lucky Flickerman before the screen flashes to Coriolanus, and then cuts to Augustus.

You eye the open field. The guards were all focused to the front. There were a few people off the side but they looked mostly like stylists and operation managers. They would hardly put up a fight for you.

You could make it. At least on to the street. But how would you make it back home? How would you free your family? How could you live with yourself in District 12 without Edmund?

Tigress reaches out and entangles your hand with her in comfort. It brings you back to the election.

Lucky performs a few magic tricks as the final votes are counted.

“Now for the moment we have all been waiting for.'' An assistant runs up and places an envelope into Lucky’s hand.

“The results are in people! Who has Panem chosen to be our new leader? The savvy businessman or the fearless Commander? Let’s find out!”

Not a word was spoken as the man opened the envelope. It must have been the result he wanted, for he broke out into a grin and began to shake his head.

“Just as I predicted. Ladies and gentleman, the new President of Panem: Coriolanus Snow!”

The crowd erupts in cheering around you. Loud popping sounds precedes colorful confetti dropping from mounted cannons. Tigris lets go of your hand to clutch Coriolanus.

She sprang up from her seat and captured his head between her arms. His grandmother is next up to crowd him. He brushed off people quickly, he had a speech to make.

You wonder if you should get up but there were already too many people around him. You would only be in the way.

He makes his way to you, bending down to place a kiss on your cheek before turning back to shake hands with those around him.

The win came as no surprise to him but he wore a large smile, and seemed almost giddy at the news.

He turns back to the podium and people quieten as he gives his speech. You heard him mutter it a million times. You could almost recite it for him.

“Today is a new day for Panem,” it began.

You eye your freedom just down the stairs but remain seated and smiling.

You’re not sure how long Coriolanus spoke for, but the applause and cheering told you he had stopped.

Before you knew it he was standing in front of you with an outstretched hand. You take it and he stops to kiss his family, giving them instructions as to where they should now go before he leads you down the steps and into the crowd.

You shrink back as they gather around him. His grasp hurt. Your bones in your hand felt as if they were about to pop out of place. But it was too easy to get lost in the crowd, so he wouldn’t loosen it.

Too many voices overlapped to hear any single one. A few pats on your shoulder was all the attention you received while Coriolanus was drowning in a sea of people.

You couldn’t make out his words over the people and the music. You let yourself be overtaken with the senses.

You smiled and nodded at people as you passed them. It was Coriolanus’ big night, you couldn’t even fathom the punishment if you were to make a mistake tonight.

You stay close to him, just over his shoulder.

He looks back to check on you one or two times but never opens his mouth.

Confetti had been hidden in his curls. You focused on counting the pieces.

The whirl-pool of people seemed to never end. As soon as one person faded another took their place.

It must have been half an hour before Coriolanus made the small distance to the apartment block.

It was 30 stories with a roof top bar that was pumping with lights and music.

The rest of the people would mingle down below with food and drinks. Huddling around the colorful glass standing tables.

You reach the entrance, guarded by two peacekeepers, and Coriolanus leads you in front of him as he presses the button for the elevator.

It was quick to come and Coriolanus pushed your hips to make you move inside.

He lets go of you as you enter and gives a wave to his fans as the door closes.

The elevator is dead quiet. Only the faint sound of pumping music could be heard.

You think he is too wrapped up in his victory to pay you any mind now you were out of sight of the public.

You were relieved almost to be out from under his attention. But he moves quick to push you up against the wall and smash his lips onto yours.

His hands steady your face as he assaults your lips.

He leaves you out of breath and grins at you widely for it.

The door dings open, and he pulls back from you. Only taking a loose grip of your hand.

Another cheer for the President was heard over the music as he steps out.

You look around the room at all the people in white. Supporters of a maniac.

Tigris and Grandma’am were offered a lounge chair as they ate and drank.

“Look,” he spoke to you, taking a green drink off a tray offered to him, “The apple pie drink you wanted. I requested it especially for you.”

He passed you the drink as a man approached him.

You managed to get a “thank you” out before the stranger began to talk.

Coriolanus paid you no more mind the rest of the night. He spoke and joked freely with the party goers while stringing you along behind him.

A few spoke to you about mundane things but Coriolanus was quick to end any longer talk then a few seconds.

The drink did taste like apple pie. A low rate apple pie. You could bake one much better. But for a drink it was fine. You ended up drinking three before Coriolanus snatched the fourth and placed it on a nearby table.

Tigres caught your eye a couple of times. You knew she was making sure you were alright. She was kind, and so ‘un-Capitol’.

Grandma’am was more true to her up-bringing. She insisted on teaching you the ways of the Capitol, and training you out of your ‘District ways’.

“It'll be our secret,” she told you over breakfast this morning, “I’ll defend you against the District rumors.”

In a way you supposed it was sweet of her. Although her intentions could very well be for Coriolanus' benefit rather than yours.

The later it got, the quieter it got.

People began disappearing. Others passed out on sofas and lounges.

Coriolanus' energy never seemed to drain, but Tigris’ and Grandma’am’s did.

Tigris had come over and interrupted Coriolanus' conversation. She offered to take you home with her and Grandma’am but Coriolanus was resistant.

“She’s fine, Tigris. I’ll bring her home with me.”

If you had been on equal standing with Coriolanus, you would have protested and just left but you were mud under his shoe, so you smiled at Tigris and told her you would see her in the morning.

Tigris kissed both of you goodbye. You hold on to her for too long. You could tell from the way Coriolanus squeezed your hand.

The party continued long after she had gone.

Your legs hurt from standing in the heels and your dress was too tight to have eaten all you did over the course of the night.

Coriolanus could sense that you were nearing the end of what you could take, so he began his final lap of victory around the room.

You were beyond grateful when he ushered you into the car.

You sighed as you sunk down into the plush leather seats, taking off your heels instantly.

“Thank you for tonight,” he said as the car entered the main road which had returned to its normal state of business even late at night, “You were very well behaved.”

“Congratulations on your win,” you return.

“Snow always lands on top,” he talks softly as he gazes out to the city.

The car rolls through the city smoothly. Coriolanus watches it pass from the window.

You feel half-asleep resting your head back on the seat.

You feel him move you down to a lying position and your eyes shoot wide open. His fingers brush your skin as he slides the skirt of your dress up.

“What are you doing?” You catch his hands and he lowers his head.

He hushes you as he slides your panties off your hips, “All the drivers talk.”

Trapped in a car in a city that kills your people for entertainment, you lay back and don’t make a sound.

You clutch the back of the seat in a tight hold as Coriolanus begins.

Edmund was barely cold in the ground and here you were, being eaten out by the man who killed him.

You try not to focus on it as Coriolanus' lips and tongue work. It pulls a moan from you and Coriolanus hits your thigh.

You press your tongue between your teeth to avoid making noise. A hand makes its way into Coriolanus’ curls and tugging on them gives you a sense of satisfaction.

It encourages him however and his movements become more targeted and passionate.

The car pulls to the curb in front of his house by the time you had made a mess in the backseat.

You lay back with your legs spread as you come down from your high.

A chill shoots through you as the door is opened by the driver but Coriolanus pulls it closed before he could see the scene.

You get up despite not being ready too. Coriolanus grabs your shoes and pockets your panties, taking your hand when its free.

You both emerge from the car as if nothing had happened.

It was late and cold. You thank the driver as you pass him.

The building was huge. Nearly all the floor was covered in titles and your feet made a sound against them.

You try to slow your walk to quite the sound, but Coriolanus was eager to get up to the apartment.

He storms across the lobby, and courtyard before reaching the steps that lead to the elevator.

He presses the button too many times. It doesn’t make it come any faster.

The house is dark and silent as you enter. The women went to bed hours ago, and you were hopping to follow suit.

Coriolanus leads you to his bedroom which is large and not yet decorated.

You pull free from him as you enter. Immediately you tear all the pins and roses from your hair.

You hear Coriolanus drop your shoes.

He clears his throat to gain your attention.

“Your brother and mother have been freed from the compound.”

Your fingers freeze in your hair. It felt as if he had lifted a great weight off your chest. You turn to him in gratitude.

“Thank you, Coriolanus.”

He smiles down at you before stooping down to your height and placing a firm kiss to your lips.

You push back against his shoulders after the kiss continues past a normal amount of time.

He pushes back, bracing you against the bed with him on top of you.

His lips turn to your neck as he unzips the back of your dress.

“Coriolanus, please don’t,” you beg.

He slides the dress’s straps off your shoulder as he responds, “Please, just give this to me. Don’t make me take it.’’

The dress is taken off you, and Coriolanus strips it off with kisses.

Only when a kiss is placed on your hip do you begin to struggle.

This man had tormented you for months. Starved you. Robbed you. Killed the man you loved. You would give him nothing freely.

You kick and push him away, but he is stronger.

“Hey. Hey, it’s okay.” He pulls you upward by your wrists to the pillows.

“No! Get off of me!”

“Y/N, please. Please,” he pleads.

You continue to fight but he persists.

“Please, don’t make me do this.”

“No. No. Edmund! Mum!”

“Shut up,” it was less of a command and more of a plea, “Please, shut up.”

You do. What would your resistance gain you? A few more seconds until the inevitable.

His grip loosens as you are still beneath him.

With only a weak hold of your wrists, he pulls off his clothes. You can hear the movement but can’t force your eyes to open.

Tears leak down your cheeks but you refrain from making a sound.

“It’s alright. I’ll take care of you.”

He lines himself up and pushes in with ease. The pain was subsided due to your wetness from the car ride but the first slow thrusts felt slightly painful and uncomfortable.

You whine slightly as you adjust to the intrusion. You fight to release your wrists from his hold, you wanted to push back on his shoulders, feeling as if he was too deep.

“It’ll only hurt for a little bit,” he promised, continuing his slow movements.

He kisses you as you let out another whine.

Soon the pain did stop, and an enjoyable sensation began to form.

Coriolanus tried his best to remain slow, but as he got lost in his own lust, he forgot about your pain.

It felt as if he was bruising you. But his mouth never left yours so you couldn’t voice a complaint.

Your hips jerk away from him, trying to ease the pressure but his spare hand stills your hip, making you take the full brunt of what he wanted to give you.

He pulls his head back from yours and groans.

“Ah,” he grunts.

“Coriolanus-” you had wanted to ask him to slow down but you feel yourself tightening around him as you come.

His hand moves from your wrists and intertwines with your hand. He presses his weight down as he picks up his pace to chase his own high.

“Wait, wait!” you were through. Every second after was too much.

“It’s okay. You’re okay,” he grunts.

You groan from the pressure as he continues.

“Almost there, darling.”

His last few thrusts are hard but the pressure turns into a warm pool between your legs.

Coriolanus is still as he rests his forehead upon your shoulder. You don’t move either, unsure of what to do.

A few moments later and he raises his head, repositioning himself so his arms cage around your head.

He drags a finger down the bridge of your nose and it runs off your cheek like a tear.