Snow On Top || Coriolanus Snow

Part 7: Preview

Y/N

"We're running out of time, so we need to make every second count," Coriolanus sits across from me, trying to discuss strategy, but I'm still rattled from the night before. He seems to notice my unease, because he pauses and places a hand on mine, which is chained to the table. I flinch at the contact. His touch always comes unexpected.

"Look, I know you must be shaken from what happened. I barely slept a wink myself. But if we don't get more people in the Capitol invested in you, you won't get any gifts in the arena. We only have the preview of the arena today and the interview tomorrow before the Games to figure out how to impress the viewers." I already know all this, of course, but it still amazes me that the Games are only two days away. The deaths did nothing to postpone it.

I look up into Coriolanus's eyes, and he seems to be silently pleading with me. He remains a mystery to me–I cannot tell how much of his interest stems from his care towards me and how much is just his own desire to be the top mentor. Instinct tells me it's primarily the latter, but looking into his eyes for some reason makes me want to believe otherwise.

"I can sing," I finally offer. He seems shocked for a second, not expecting this. "I'm not really district, I'm a Covey," I explain. "We're performers. I've been singing ever since I can remember." Talking about home leaves a hollow ache in my chest, but Coriolanus seems to brighten at this new information.

"Singing, huh? I bet no one else will sing at the interviews, this could be just what we need to make you stand out. Do you have a song?" His enthusiasm almost makes me agree on the spot, but then I look down at my chained hands, remembering what this is all for. I will not prance around on stage for them, making a spectacle of myself just to be slaughtered the next day. At least not for free.

"On two conditions," I say, which seems to annoy him though he lets me continue. "First, you get me a guitar." He nods at this and says he can get it done, so I continue. "Second, talk to me like you believe I can actually win." This condition catches him off guard. Maybe he didn't realize it himself, but he's been treating me like I'm just something to put on display since I got her. He takes a moment, seemingly giving some real thought to what I've said.

"You're right," he finally concedes. "I'm sorry I've been focusing so much on you performing when you have the Games to think about. But believe me, y/n, I'll do everything I can to make sure you walk out of that arena alive." His sincerity catches me off guard. Maybe he isn't as unfeeling as I had assumed.

I smile. "Ok then, Coriolanus, we have a deal."

...

The tributes are all lined up outside the arena, which looks old and dilapidated from the outside. After standing for what seems like forever, the mentors arrive in a Capitol vehicle and take their places alongside their mentors. Being from 12, I stand at the back and Coriolanus soon joins me.

The Peacekeepers lined up at our sides begin marching us in, and soon we can catch a glimpse of the massive arena ahead of us. It's a wide open space with little cover, which discourages me a bit. Not much for fighting, I had hoped for a chance to hide out and wait as the others killed one another off.

Passing through the dark tunnel, some instinct takes over and I grab Coriolanus's hand. I feel him tense at my side, but he doesn't let go, and after a second he gives my hand a small squeeze. We exit the tunnel and enter the arena, light pouring in from above. The Peacekeeper beside us glances over, and Coriolanus drops my hand immediately. It stings to see him so embarrassed, but it only serves to remind me that we are from different worlds. District and Capitol don't mix.

The Peacekeepers station themselves around the perimeter and allow the tributes and mentees to roam freely. Coriolanus guides me over to a corner, away from the others. He faces me away from the guards, and I raise a brow at him. Why the secrecy?

Then he grabs my hand again, but this time he places something in my palm. I look down to find a small silver compact. He's looking around anxiously, as if he's scared of being caught.

"What, is this you hinting for me to wear more makeup? And where is my guitar you promised me?" I joke, but he doesn't even smile. His seriousness worries me.

"Listen to me, y/n," he leans down so I can hear him, his blond hair falling forward. "I'm keeping my promise, okay? I'm not letting you die in this arena, but you can't tell anyone I'm giving you this. Not anyone, okay? Not even Jessup. Don't open it until you absolutely need it, and never breathe it in." He grabs my hand, folding my finger over the compact, and then guides me back out to walk around the arena before we raise suspicion from the guards. "And for the guitar, you will get it, promise" he adds.

And though he did not elaborate much, I know what's inside the compact–poison. Tributes aren't allowed to bring outside weapons, and though I don't exactly have a rulebook I can guess mentors aren't supposed to aid illegal activity. Coriolanus is putting himself on the line for me. "Don't let me die in here tomorrow" I tell him. If he wants me to win, he better act like I am capable of winning. My eyes start to swelter with tears of fear. I don't get emotional that often, but he needs to realize that my life, alongside many others, is on the line here. Coriolanus takes a handkerchief and pats my face with it.

"My mother taught me to always have a handkerchief on hand," he says as he wipes my tears. He smiles as he speaks, but it doesn't reach his eyes. "She said it would help maintain our civility even during the war, a reminder that we were still Capitol. That was before the rebels shot her dead." His voice is cold as he speaks, as if he long ago grew indifferent to such loss. It makes me wonder what he really went through during the war. Maybe growing indifferent was the only way for him to survive. Coriolanus telling me about his mom makes me realize this is really the only thing he's ever told me about his past.

"Welcome to the arena of the 10th Annual Hunger Games. Please spend the next 15 minutes touring the arena" the intercom chimes. The Peacekeepers allow the other tributes, including me, to walk around the arena a bit. I try to find Jessup so we can discuss strategy.

Suddenly, the arena is hit with a bone-rattling shockwave, followed by an immense wave of heat. There were explosions littered around the arena, blowing the dome apart. The arena crumbles around me and Coriolanus

Rebel bombers? There's nothing for me to do but stand frozen in fear. I start to run towards the exit, avoiding the falling pieces when I hear a male voice screaming from behind. I turn around to see Coriolanus crushed between fallen rubble and the ground. I hesitate to help him, watching others around me take the chance to flee, but something in me carries myself over to him. I use all the strength I have to try and lift the concrete off him. My ears are ringing from the bombs, but I still hear his pained screams echoing around me. Jessup runs to me, telling me we have a chance to escape the capitol, to escape the game, but I continue to lift the rubble.

With just enough strength, I flip the beam over, freeing Coriolanus from the concrete. He looks up at me, his back a bloody mess from the wounds. I take one last look at him before turning to run. I see Marcus disappearing out the gates to freedom, and I'm so close. 20 feet. 10.

I'm suddenly hit hard from behind. Pain shoots through my spine and I fall to the ground. A Peacekeeper grabs me by the hair, yanking me to my feet.

I still see the open gate as I'm dragged away, back to my cage.