HEART OF GOLD | CORIOLANUS SNOW

𝘾𝙃𝘼𝙋𝙏𝙀𝙍 2

Athena had been the one gunning for them to finish the Gamemaking series, obsessed as she was with everything related to the Hunger Games. Or rather, everything related to one Coriolanus Snow. Niece to Professor Satyria Click, who had been his teacher at the Academy (and theirs, of course), she had been hearing praises sung of the man practically her entire life. It was no wonder she idolized him—to say nothing of his attractiveness.

The notion that Snow was fanciable was an unequivocal fact as far as the Capitol was concerned. There had been a time when Athena fantasized aloud about how ravishing their wedding photos would look. If permitted (which, according to Olympia, she should never be), she could go on for days about the compatibility of their sleek blonde hairs and crystal blue eyes, as if that were the very reason two people should be married.

It was useless trying to convince her otherwise. So Lilith—because Athena had absolutely demanded a verbal response—said, "It's written in the stars," while Olympia grudgingly agreed that their fictional babies would be drop-dead gorgeous. At least there was never question about that. Athena had been pretty as a girl; now, she was the stunning, perfect match for her prince.

Her severe crush had waned considerably since their early teenage years, though. As they grew older, her fascination transferred onto his line of work, which led her to pursue a degree in military science. Still, Lilith couldn't help suspect that her infatuation merely lay dormant.

Snow never dated students, not since he'd been one. Lilith knew because Athena kept a list—that she was still actively updating—of all the women he'd ever been known to see in a top-secret diary she locked in a safe in the depths of her closet. The only eyes other than her own to have had the "fortune" (Athena's words) to cross it were Lilith's and Olympia's.

More comprehensive than anything the tabloids could ever hope to reproduce, it wasn't so much a list than a catalogue, indexing the names in chronological order, the length of the relationship—even the start and end dates, to the best accuracy Athena could muster—with full pages dedicated to each lady's background, ancestry, etc.

It wasn't that Athena was a stalker or anything. Despite having more discretion than most ("The mark of a true gentleman," said Athena approvingly), Snow was still a public figure. Even if cameras hadn't invariably found their target, people told Athena things. That was just who she was: someone you could talk to—someone you wanted to talk to.

On the outside, she seemed to radiate this irresistible charm that could open up even the most reticent. Lilith was the walking exhibit, though she wouldn't exactly describe it as being charmed.

In Athena's presence, you just felt safe: safe to complain about the injustice of too much homework; to debate which professors had the worst haircuts over the holidays; to seek advice when Solaris St. Clair (Green Eyes) asked you to the pictures and you'd somehow said yes before anything really registered because it was simply so out of the blue; to weep when summer came, because it was your mother's death anniversary and you missed her so much your whole body ached.

And then, after everything, she never breathed a word to another soul. You didn't even have to ask—she just didn't. In Lilith's case, the same held true for Olympia. But beyond their trio, the ginger hid behind her naturally sullen visage Athena had nicknamed the "resting bitch face." Olympia ran with it. She could be a bitch all right, and she made sure everyone knew it.

Once, she'd bombarded this boy at the Academy with taunts until he dissolved into a puddle of tears, all because he'd called Lilith a prude. He had been two years their senior; his precedent held the bullies at bay. Coupled with the aloof air she projected, she was about the most unapproachable person on the planet. Funnily enough, she had the most number of boyfriends amongst them. Well, less boyfriends and more flings, but that wasn't the point.