The Scent of Roses || Coriolanus Snow

Chapter XIX

You woke up to your body wrapped around Coriolanus like fabric. He was still fast asleep, snoring softly enough that it didn't disturb you but enough to know that he was very comfortable in your bed. You tried not to stare, but he looked precious as he slept, his arm wrapped around you so you would remain close to him. Part of you wished he would never wake up because you didn't know how you'd face him when he did.

Last night, he saw a side of you that no one had seen before. You were stuck in anxious thought, worried that he somehow resented you for how he made you behave. It wasn't your fault his mouth worked wonders against you or that you were left a mess after he was done feasting upon you. He led you to the bathroom after, helping you into the shower to rinse off and then bringing you a set of your pajamas to wear for the evening.

You asked him to stay, though he planned on leaving, but he didn't hesitate to wrap you up in himself and your sheets as you dozed off to bed together. You had been concerned about breaking the boundaries before, but now you had taken it too far. Either to love or to heartbreak.

Coriolanus stirred in his sleep, finally opening his eyes to see you looking longingly towards him. "Good morning, sweet rose," he said as he kissed your cheek.

"You snore a lot in your sleep," you lied, hoping your jab at him would initiate play-fighting.

He shook his head at you. "Lies, all lies. I thought we agreed to never lie to each other," his face stern yet playful.

You scoffed in response to his childish expression towards you. "There is no way we made that agreement," you jokingly shoved him, causing an offended gasp to leave his lips. He threw himself on top of you, tackling you onto the bedsheets. You fought against him to get out from underneath him, but you were no match for his strength. You eventually gave up, laughing too hard to use your strength. He still had you pinned down by your wrists, smiling over you with proudness for his accomplishment.

"I don't like being on bottom," you groaned, hoping your comment would catch him off guard, even though it was a complete lie.

Coriolanus smugly smiled at you, ignoring your attempt completely. "I'm sorry, sweetheart," he teased you. "But, Snow lands on top."

You groaned again, embarrassed by his use of his last name in such a cheesy phrase. He laughed at your reaction, collapsing on top of you from his extreme entertainment. You both kept laughing against each other until he stopped, something else catching his attention.

"What is it?" you asked, hoping there wasn't a massive bug on the wall or a rat crawling around on the floor.

"They've put up the poster for your tributes Victory Tour,"  he answered, the response sending a shiver down your spine and immediately wiping the smile off your face. "I didn't realize he'd be visiting the Capitol so soon."

You paused for a moment. "I didn't either. The games felt like yesterday to me." That was true. It hasn't been long since Garnett won and left you behind. You knew he'd have to go through every District besides his own before arriving at the Capitol, but it wasn't far enough away for you to not be able to worry about it anymore.

Coriolanus pulled himself off of you, staring into your eyes. "Did I do something to upset you?" he asked. "That's never my intention."

You shook your head. "No, it's just... I hate talking about the games that I mentored." You felt embarrassed to admit that to him, as he seemed like nothing ever affected him, ever. "I just don't like going back to there. I guess that's why I suggested Academy students never mentor again."

Coriolanus nodded, lifting himself and you up from the bed and into a sitting position. "I understand," he replied, making you feel less ashamed for your omission. "I don't speak of the games when I mentored hardly ever, and I don't plan to again in my life." He shot you a glare after that last comment, making it known that he did not wish to hear you ask about his experience mentoring. You took the hint, stopping yourself from asking why he didn't want to discuss his experience with the games and the tribute he mentored.

"That boy from 2," Coriolanus continued, this time with a tremble in his voice. "Do you care for him?"

You held your breath, hoping he wouldn't see the immediate reaction on your face. "I-I don't want him to hate me," you said, afraid of how he would respond. Though your answer wasn't a lie, it wasn't the whole truth. Garnett had meant so much to you, and your heart still thought of him when your mind drifted beyond the Capitol. Whatever he was doing, you hoped he was trying to be happy.

Coriolanus nodded, resentment hiding behind his face. "He will hate you when he hears of this proposal," he said somberly, his tone showing some signs of apology. "You'll have to take credit for this. Doctor Gaul will not allow you to refuse. ."

Your throat went dry as reality began to set in. Garnett would be here for his Victory Tour soon enough, and on that day, he would learn of these changes and learn the person who swore to keep him safe had created them. Even though he had survived the arena, he would never escape the Hunger Games until the day he died.

Your mind then drifted to the other victors since the games began. They would also be subject to this torture of sending their people, the children of their district, into an arena to die, and you were the one who sentenced them to that hell.

"Coriolanus," you begged him, hoping that there was something he could do to prevent Garnett from ever finding out you instigated this change. "Please. I'll do anything."

His eyebrow perked in intrigue at your plea. He turned to face you, waiting for you to admit how far you would go to stop your name from being put on that proposal. You, however, didn't say a word and just stared at him with such fierce promise he shuddered.

"I don't want to take credit for your work," he finally said, assumingly rejecting your ask of him. "I've gone through that myself, having someone else take credit for what I did, and I cannot do that to you."

You shook your head, irritated he didn't understand why you didn't want your name displayed. "Coriolanus, I don't want to be a part of this life!" you cried out, hoping a raise in your voice would drill your perspective into his head. "I don't want my name to be associated with the Hunger Games. At least, not in this way. I have hopes for my future, and this proposal is not one of them."

Coriolanus clenched his jaw, his nostrils flaring at your refusal to serve Panem in what he thought was a righteous way. He took your arm, pulling you close to his face.

"You want that boy from 2 to have a better life?" Coriolanus spat at you, his eyes unwavering from yours. "This is how you do that, by changing the games so that he and all those who come after him have a better chance. Passing up this chance is to turn your back on him."

You trembled before him, terrified by his sudden shift in behavior, but he didn't move an inch. He stayed looking into your soul until you agreed, until he saw your mind shift to what he wanted you to do. All you could picture at that moment was the look on Garnett's face when he heard what you had done, but there was a chance you could do what Coriolanus suggested.

You could continue to propose suggestions that saved tributes like him and damned those that weren't. Garnett was brilliant, and he knew how the games worked. Even if it pained him deeply, his insight could ensure his District won year after year. Maybe if they kept winning, Garnett could get enough money and status to fix his sight, and then he could finally see you like you both had wanted.

"I'll sign my name," you finally whispered. "I'll take the credit." You felt the immense weight of fear for how Garnett would react lift off your shoulders while the weight of working with Doctor Gaul even more closely on the games fell on you.

Coriolanus removed the tight grip of his hand from your arm and reached for your face, stroking his thumb across your cheek. "Good, my rose," he smiled, his eyes turning more sinister by the second. "My sweet, obedient rose."