The Roses and Hibiscus Chronicles - Coriolanus Snow

The Apology

"I just put Crassus back to bed; I heard him crying," Snow said as he entered the room. Indila was lying on the bed, wearing the white sleeping dress from their nuptial night. That must mean something; she had never put it on again. She was talking to him now, but they hadn't touched each other since the night of the announcement of her first Hunger Games. Snow would never force her; it was disgusting. In the districts, they used to kill a lot of rapists. This was bestial; it was not who he was. Even he had his scruples when it came to crimes. Indila was a princess and should be respected.

However, that sleeping dress was suggestive. They hadn't even kissed for some months now. These thoughts consumed him, and he didn't realize he was staring. "What?" she said with a sweet tone. Snow was still kind of hypnotized by the view. "Nothing... it's just... you look beautiful." Indila blushed. That was her thing; she liked being spoiled, she liked a boost to her ego. He could see her nipples behind the lace, and he could also tell there was nothing under the silk.

Snow changed so they could sleep. He lay down next to her, and she was reading a book, as always. Indila said nothing, but Snow found in this sleeping dress the perfect opportunity to apologize and make her forget about all the anger she had inside herself for these last months.

"Dila, I miss you, more than I could tell," Snow confessed. Indila looked at him with a cynical gleam. "Well, babe, I don't understand, I'm right here." Snow couldn't stop now; he had to finish what he started. "I'm pretty sure you know what I mean. Do you realize how torturing it is for me? Sleeping by your side every night and not being allowed to touch you? I'm dying." She grinned proudly but said something he could not have imagined. "You have been with other women, Coriolanus. I'm not stupid." Snow hadn't realized she knew, but it was not something he was up to discuss now. "No, I haven't," he lied and continued, trying to sound outraged: "I could never, and even if I could, it would never compare to a minimum second in your arms."

Indila chuckled and then took a deep breath. "Why didn't you tell me? You should have told me from the beginning. I would never have stayed if I..." Coriolanus interrupted her, saying, "You would never stay by my side if you knew; you would never stay in Panem if you knew." Snow tried to sound sad, and even a single tear rolled down his face. He continued, "Indila, I fell for you, I really did. I couldn't let you go; I was afraid of losing you." Indila remained silent, looking at him with a pitiful eye. "Sometimes, I just have to do what I have to do. I didn't create traditions; it's just how we do things here. It has always been this way. I tried my best to make things better for tributes; they were not even treated like human beings before I intervened." Indila was irreducible: "So you should have done better." She was crying.

"Indila, please, I love you. I love Crassus. I can't promise to rule the country in a way that meets your ideals, but all I can promise is to protect you, care for you, and for our family. I'm sincere when I say I love you," pleaded Snow.

Indila took a moment, her expression thoughtful, and then she began to speak, "Coriolanus, love alone can't erase the harsh reality of the Capitol's traditions. I've seen the suffering of the districts, the pain inflicted by the Hunger Games. It's not just about our family; it's about the entire nation. Can't you see that?"

Snow looked at her trying to keep himself calm enough to lie. "Indila, I... I've tried to make changes. It's not easy; you know the political landscape, the power struggles. But I promise, I'll keep trying. I'll find a way to make a difference."

Indila sighed, her gaze fixed on a distant point. "Coriolanus, I want to believe you. I want to believe that love can overcome all, but it's hard when I see the suffering around us. Our family is precious, but so is every life in Panem. I can't ignore that."

Snow, feeling the weight of her resentment, implored, "Indila, I need you by my side. Together, we can find a way to change things. I can't do it alone." Indila looked deeply into his eyes, a mix of emotions crossing her face. "Coriolanus, I need to see real change, not just promises. I need to know that your love is not built on the suffering of others. Can you make me that promise?"

Snow, looking into her eyes, gathered all fake sincerity he had inside him to answer how she wanted him to: "I promise, Indila. I will do everything in my power to create a better Panem, a Panem where love doesn't come at the cost of others' pain."

She gazed deeply at him for a moment and then nestled herself against his chest. Snow embraced her, and they lingered in this embrace for an indeterminate time. Whether seconds, minutes, or hours had passed, Snow couldn't discern. He tenderly stroked her hair, and she traced her fingers across his chest. The air between them was filled with silence. Although Indila didn't explicitly utter the words, "I love you," Snow understood. Otherwise, there would be no reason for her to invest so much in their connection.

Snow lifted her chin, making her look at him. "There's something I want to ask you," he said. She nodded, and he continued, "May I kiss you?" A surprised and somewhat scared expression crossed her face; she remained silent. "Please, just one last time, so I can remember this forever. That will be my punishment." Indila closed her eyes. "Okay."

His lips met hers softly. Snow had missed that feeling, truly missed it. Initially delicate, the kiss gradually intensified. She wanted him too; he could tell. That's why she was wearing the sleeping dress. He had noticed her weariness with the consequences that standing for her values brought. Snow tightened his grip on her waist, and she offered no resistance.

Their lips parted, and Snow kissed that spot behind her ear, having had enough time to discover some of her body's secrets. She moaned. That was it; he was the victor, having achieved what he initiated this conversation for in the first place. She wasn't turning back, not at that point. Snow chuckled, "Do you remember our bet?" She nodded. "Maybe it's your lucky day." Snow could sense that nothing occupied Indila's thoughts beyond the present moment they were sharing.

"I hope it's not," she replied with an alluring tone. He felt her hand going down. She missed him.

That night, Snow could sense Indila's forgiveness. He couldn't pinpoint what earned it for him—whether it was his impassioned speech about the constraints of tradition or his heartfelt expressions of love, longing, and the desire to protect their family. No, he didn't want to believe that it was the latter.Snow wanted to believe it was how he made her sleeping dress slides by her body to the ground, the caring way he licked her body and kissed every inch of it, or the way he kissed her sex, the way he immobilized her to some moments and how he knew how to touch her in all the right places. She moaned her forgiveness in a language only dazzling pleasure could make her fluent. Snow felt satisfied in every sense of the word. Indila had succumbed once more, and he felt an overwhelming sense of pride. As they lay side by side again, catching their breath, he couldn't help but say it again: "I love you." She smiled and kissed him, not uttering the same words in return.