𝐇𝐈𝐒 𝐒𝐎𝐍𝐆𝐁𝐈𝐑𝐃 || coriolanus snow [✓]

𝘱𝘳𝘰𝘭𝘰𝘶𝘨𝘦

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PROLOGUE

*°:⋆ₓₒ
      ⇢ WHEN I STEP OUT of the water, a sharp chill washes over me, raising goosebumps along my skin. The warmth from my swim is gone in an instant, replaced by the bite of the evening air. I extend a hand blindly, reaching for my towel, but instead, my fingers brush against something unexpected—someone's hand.

"Liam, can you be a doll and pass me my towel?" I ask, blinking against the saltwater stinging my eyes.

A soft chuckle follows, and a second later, the towel is pressed into my palm. I sigh in relief, using it to wipe my face before wrapping it securely around myself.

"Thank you," I say with a laugh.

Liam stands before me, arms crossed over his chest, an amused smirk tugging at his lips. His dark eyes gleam with mischief as he tilts his head slightly. "What brings you out here anyway, (nickname)?"

I drop onto the small wool blanket I brought, crossing my legs beneath me. Not the best for damp skin, but it'll do. "Just trying to clear my head before the reaping. I suggest you do the same." I scrub at my dripping hair with the towel, keeping my gaze locked on his.

"Pfft." Liam snorts, shaking his head. "I'm not scared of the reaping. You know this."

I hum, unconvinced. "Oh, bless your heart. As far as my two perfectly good eyes can tell, you're shaking like a leaf and sweating like a sinner in church. You really gon' lie to me now, Liam?" I arch a brow, grinning as I shake out my damp hair.

He scoffs, rolling his eyes. "Be careful, Ma and Pa won't be happy if you get home late, (nickname)!" he teases, drawing out my accent in a terrible impression.

I gasp, placing a hand over my chest as if deeply wounded. "Oh, you did not just mock me!"

Liam bursts into laughter, and I stomp away dramatically. He shouts after me, but I pick up my pace, ignoring him. Eventually, his footsteps slow, and he gives up the chase, letting the distance stretch between us. Maybe it's for the best.

The next time we see each other, we'll be standing in the square, dressed in our Sunday best, with our siblings at our sides. And if fate is kind, we'll celebrate another year of safety.

And if it's not...

I shake the thought away and press forward.

By the time I reach home, the sun has dipped lower in the sky, casting long shadows over our small house. I push the door open carefully, mindful not to make too much noise and wake up the wretched creature my brother insists on keeping.

The dog—if you could call it that—is a mess of scars and matted fur. Blind in one eye, mean as hell, and about as useful as a sack of rocks. I've told Jeremy a thousand times we'd be better off turning it into our next meal, but he always gives me the same answer: Covey stick together.

That dog ain't my family, but I let it stay. For Jeremy.

Speaking of my little brother—

A blur of movement rushes toward me before I can take another step, and suddenly, Jeremy is clinging to my waist, his small arms squeezing tight.

"Hey, buddy," I laugh, ruffling his wild hair. His jacket—one Ma made him before she passed—is slightly crooked, and I kneel to straighten it. "Where's Pa?"

Jeremy shrugs, his usual quiet self.

Pa says his silence is strange, but I don't mind. I've always told Jeremy that picking his words wisely makes him leagues ahead of the kids who never stop yappin'.

"It's alright," I reassure him. "I'm sure he'll catch up."

Jeremy nods but stays close as I grab our things. I'm already dressed—colorful as usual. After bathing in the river, I didn't have much left to do besides dry off. Jeremy must've had help from Pa, though.

"Let's go," he says softly, slipping his hand into mine.

I squeeze his fingers in return as we step outside. The walk to the square is quiet except for the sound of our footsteps on the dirt path. Jeremy clings to my arm, his grip tightening the closer we get.

"It's your first year, honey," I murmur. "They're not gonna pick you. And if they try, well, they'll have to go through me first." I nudge him playfully, hoping to ease the tension in his small frame.

It works, if only a little. He lets out a soft laugh and rests his head against my shoulder.

The crowd thickens as we reach the square, and soon, we're swallowed into a sea of nervous faces. The officials herd us into our lines—boys on one side, girls on the other.

Then, Jeremy sees the needle.

His breath hitches, and before I can say anything, he bolts toward me, eyes wide with panic.

"Hey, it's okay," I kneel, keeping my voice calm. "It doesn't hurt. Just this much." I pinch my fingers together. "It'll be over before you know it, I promise."

He swallows hard but nods, allowing himself to be guided back. We each go through the process quickly, a small prick of pain, and then we wait.

The stage looms ahead, and soon, an older man steps onto the platform, clearing his throat before speaking.

Here we go.

The usual speech begins.

"War, terrible war..."

Liam catches my eye from across the square and mouths the words dramatically. I choke back a laugh.

"And now," the announcer continues, "for this year's tributes from District 12."

A pause.

"Let's switch it up. Boys first."

The man reaches into the glass bowl, fingers rifling through the slips of paper. The silence is deafening.

Then, he unfolds a name.

His voice rings out over the crowd.

"Jeremy (Last Name)."

The world tilts.

My stomach drops, my breath catches, and everything inside me goes still.

Beside me, Jeremy stiffens, his small fingers gripping the fabric of my sleeve.

No.

No, no, no—

Not him.

A/N: Hello! I Hope you enjoyed this chapter, first things first. English is NOT my first language so I'm unsure of my grammar. And second things I tried to make a lot of parallels to Katniss because I want this story to be tied to other x readers in the future, maybe Peeta...Cato? Or Finnick Odair (husband!!) so let me know which sounds best to you!! Anyways please enjoy the rest of this story!!

edited 3/1/25