Reprisal

CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

           Wreckless . Irresponsible . Selfish .

Tawny paces the small quarters of her room while Snow sleeps, her thighs sore, the muscles over her abdomen taught, her cunt still slick from his abuse.

Guilt nearly eats through her—more so than she had imagined it would, seeing the scene of Livia rushing to greet Snow as soon as they arrive back in the Capitol.

She hates the fact she's still completely engrossed with him, crawling at his beck and call, ignoring the fact he's married with a child on the way, turning a blind eye to the wrong he's done to get where he is in his career.

But she's lying to say she doesn't admire his drive, the dedication to get where he imagines himself—where he knows himself to be best at.

Stopping to look at him, rubbing her lips together, she watches his chest rise and fall with each breath, tracing the skin to his abdomen, the lean muscle of it constructing as he shifts in his sleep.

He's so peaceful, so beautiful...the anger and bitterness hiding so well beneath the surface.

It's wrong, repulsive, she knows as much, but it's almost possession the way she slinks back to the bed, slipping from her robe to tuck under the covers next to him as he wakes only slightly to wrap himself around her, pressing his cheek to the soft skin of her chest.

Into the early hours of the morning, her nails softly gather at the back of his neck, gently tangling in the curling, blonde tresses that he otherwise has styled as tame as they can be.

She can tell he's awake from the way his thumb traces over the rib closest to her breast, running along the bone covered in soft skin.

A thought comes to her mind, a question that she'd been keeping to herself ever since meeting Hoff and Mayor Lipp.

"Why did you quit?" It's whispered quietly as snow pelts softly against the window of her room,

Snow's eyes open, an invasive, threatening feeling seeping into him as he retorts, "Quit what?" Playing dumb.

" Peacekeeping ." Tawny explains, staring at him as he lifts his head to look at her. "From what I've gathered you were good at it. You could have had a successful run."

His finger traces her lip as he looks at her.

Peacekeeping didn't agree with him.

"I angered the wrong people and they sent me here. I never would have done so by my own will." He speaks as if she's a child needing it broken down in simplest form.

"Who did you anger?" She inquires, next, mindlessly, not realizing the nerves of Coriolanus that she's jumping on repeatedly.

Getting off of her, he hauls himself to the head of the bed with a deep sigh as she turns on her side to face him, waiting patiently.

"Dean Highbottom and I knocked heads quite a few times over the course of my Senior year at the academy."

A scoff immediately falls from her lips as she rolls her eyes, keeping the sheets over her chest as she sits up.

"He knocked heads with everyone . He tried to talk me out of becoming a Gamescientist." Tawny informs him, pushing her hair over her shoulder, his eyes falling over the exposed skin that's revealed when she does so. "He didn't want anyone stealing his thunder."

"He didn't want anyone to add anything of value to the Games because he despised them." It slips before he can stop himself, a thought that's spoken aloud without realizing it.