The Scent of Roses || Coriolanus Snow

Chapter XVI

The sun beat brightly upon your face, blinding your eyes as you rubbed them, trying to see the world more clearly. You picked yourself up from your pillow, taking a big stretch as you looked at your alarm clock.

The clock read 10 am.

You threw yourself out of bed, screaming as you ran across your apartment to get your things together. Holy fuck! You had never been late before, let alone missed a class.

This was all Coriolanus's fault. If he hadn't come to your apartment last night and kept you up long past your bedtime, you never would've missed your alarm.

A note on your kitchen counter caught your attention, one arm in your sweater while the other scrambled to brush your hair. You leaned over it, reading the first few words before grabbing the note and pulling it closer to your eyes.

You're excused from classes today. I had Doctor Gaul pull a few strings. Rest up, and I'll drop your assignments off tonight. See you soon, my rose.

Coriolanus

You slammed the paper back down on the counter, refusing to acknowledge it. Of course, he had to have impeccable penmanship on top of everything else. You couldn't escape his perfections. He practically spat them in your face every chance he had. He was handsome, protective, caring, and had immense power. You couldn't hide it anymore as your body longed to hold him again, care for his wounds, and be close to his side.

You knew that you were falling in love.

You didn't want to, not with him, not with anyone. It wasn't something you were ready for, and not on the level that you felt for Coriolanus. You were falling hard for him, for every inch of his being. He made you feel such a strong sense of warmth and comfort whenever he was around and even when he wasn't. For God's sake, he fought at an open bar simply because he heard Cedar disrespect you. No one you had known before would do such a thing, but Coriolanus would.

Though it was 10 in the morning, you knew your body needed more sleep. Even though your adrenaline had spiked thinking you were late, your anxieties had calmed after reading the note. You walked back to your bed, closing the curtains, and throwing yourself onto your sheets, allowing yourself to fall gently back to sleep, hoping no disturbances would affect your rest.

Thankfully, none did. You woke a few hours later, and by a few, it had been several. The sun was now setting at around 5 pm. Though you felt completely unproductive in your day, there was nothing you needed or could do today. You stared at your door, awaiting a knock from Coriolanus to drop off your missed work. Truthfully, you just wanted to see him and didn't care what he brought. You hoped his injuries had healed. It would be a shame for such a beautiful face to be ruined.

You walked to the bathroom sink, splashing water on your face to wipe away the sleepy expression. The thought crossed your mind to touch up your appearance before Coriolanus arrived, but then there was a knock on the door.

You jumped at the sound, quickly grabbing your robe off the bathroom door and wrapping it around yourself. It was a bit much to answer the door in your silk pajama shirt that let the outline of your breasts show and short bottoms that barely covered your ass.

Coriolanus did have a bruised eye, but his stitches looked clean, and with the smile on his face, nobody could know he had been in a fight the night before. He handed you a small folder with only a few papers from your professors. 

"Did you get any rest?" he asked, a concerned look on your face.

You nodded. "Yes, I did. Though I would've appreciated you waking me up this morning instead of making me panic thinking I was late."

He let out a small laugh in response to your remark as you let him walk through the door and into your apartment. Now that you were standing in the doorway, you noticed how dark and gloomy your space was. Coriolanus noticed before you did and walked to almost every light in the room and turned them on. "I was going to wake you," he remarked, walking to your bed as he began making it for you. "You just looked so sweet and peaceful."

You blushed at the comment, this time refusing to wash it away before he turned around to look at you. He did turn back to face you, a smirk across his face. "Did you enjoy my note?" he asked, hinting at what he had called you.

He walked towards you, his eyes twinkling in the warm lights around you. Your breath escaped you as he got closer, his body practically touching yours. He tucked a strand of hair behind your ear, his eyes scanning you for a nod of approval.

His rose.

You wanted to tell him how it made you feel, the way your heart pounded against your chest, and butterflies danced around your stomach. His eyes were locked on your lips, offering sly glances to the rest of your body, getting stuck at the crossed fabric of your bathrobe. "You called me your rose," you responded, the words to describe how you felt escaping you as if they were a foreign language.

Coriolanus nodded, his face inching closer to your own. The tension between you both was thick enough to be seen by the naked eye. You both knew what you wanted at this moment, but it seemed impossible to obtain.

"In a field full of roses, I'd still look for yours," he whispered, his lips now inches from yours. "I'd pick you every time, my rose, thorns and all."

You grabbed him by the collar of his shirt, pulling him into your face as your lips collided, a flame igniting in your body. The folder collapsed from your hand as papers scattered across the floor, but that didn't matter.

Coriolanus was desperate for you, his hands scanning every inch of your body and latching onto any part he could. His tongue pushed against the entrance to your mouth, waiting for you to open up and receive him. You did, letting him pass into you with pure intent. He forced himself down the back of your throat, and you let him. Your knees felt weak in his arms, but he knew that. He lifted you, resting the backs of your legs on his forearms, his hands cupped around your ass. He slammed you into the wall, a feeling of passion rather than pain surging throughout you. His hips pressed in between your legs, a strong pulsation beginning from below your waist.

You knew what you wanted, what you needed from him, and you could feel that he needed the same. A force pressed into your abdomen, and it wasn't his belt buckle. You let a moan slip past your lips at the feel of his length. Even through layers, you knew it wasn't what you were used to; he was much larger.

"Watch it," he panted between blessing your mouth with his own. "You don't want to start this."

"I do," you purred, pressing your hips into him, hoping he would throw you across the room into your bed and make you his already. "Please," you begged him, smiling against him as he grunted in pleasure at your persistence.

He pulled away from you, and heavy breaths from both of you filled the once-quiet apartment. He kissed you again, hard and hot. "Where's the fun in that?" he protested, his breath catching. "I can't show you all my tricks in one night."

Coriolanus let you down gently from the wall, pulling your robe back over your shoulders. He then refastened his attire, looking at the reflective surface of your stove to adjust his hair. You stood motionless, body still aching for him as he picked up your papers and placed them carefully back in the folder.

He turned to you, enclosing the file and its contents in your hand. "Try not to drop it this time," he winked, laughing as you smacked him with it. "Careful!" he laughed, "you'll reopen my wounds!"

You stopped per his request and stared at him with pure contentment. He returned the same look to you, one of bliss and yet painful desire.

"You know what I'm going to ask you," he stated, eyeing you repeatedly to see your reaction.

"I hardly know, Coriolanus Snow." He groaned at the sound of your soft and sultry voice saying his name. He wrapped his arms around you, picking you up and dancing around the room.

He set you back down, his arms still on you, tight to your waist. "Will you, my rose, join me for dinner tomorrow evening?" his words were like music to your ears.

"I think I could make the time," you responded as he kissed your forehead.