𝑻𝑯𝑬 𝑩𝑳𝑨𝑪𝑲 𝑫𝑨𝑯𝑳𝑰𝑨, 𝒇𝒊𝒏𝒏𝒊𝒄𝒌 𝒐𝒅𝒂𝒊𝒓

𝑷𝒓𝒐𝒑𝒆𝒓𝒕𝒚 𝑶𝒇 𝑻𝒉𝒆 𝑫𝒆𝒗𝒊𝒍

"I'm assuming you didn't summon me here to discuss the demise of my tributes." Dahlia quipped back with a tight-lipped smile, trying not to displease Snow while also getting to the bottom of why she was really here.

Snow chuckles softly, "You have a sharp mind, Miss Blossom. I'm glad we can skip the unnecessary formalities." Leaning forward on his desk, Snow's hands clasp together as they get down to proper business. "You have a very small family, don't you? Just your younger sister, I believe." Dahlia freezes up, already not liking the direction this conversation is heading. She manages to muster a small nod in response as Snow peers down at her attentively. "Are you close?"

"We used to be." Dahlia replies bitterly, swallowing back the lump forming in her throat. The truth is that Dahlia would do anything for Lavender, but the younger girl wouldn't do the same. "Things changed when I came back from the Games."

"I see." Snow ponders in thought, the gears in his brain shifting. If Dahlia thought she could get out of this by claiming her sibling relationship was frayed, she was being too optimistic. She knew better than to underestimate Snow. "But I understand you've become quite close with a few of our Victors." Fists clenching in panic, Dahlia's face remains impassive so she doesn't give anything away. But Snow knows. He always knows. "Mr Silvers and Mr Odair, in particular... Would be a shame if something were to happen to them after the tragic loss of your mother and sister."

Dahlia's teeth grit in anger and her finger nails start to dig painfully into the palm of her hand as she tries to restrain her temper. "Where are you going with this?"

The corner of Snow's lips curl with a hint of a smirk. He's got her right where he wants her. "I'm sure you're aware of your popularity here in the Capitol, Miss Blossom."

"You flatter me too much." Dahlia states with a straight tone, her eyes narrowed in suspicion at Snow's indirect words. She wished he would just get to the point.

"Many of my citizens would pay handsomely for the pleasure of your company." Snow reveals, a dark look settling on his face as realisation dawns on Dahlia. "If you were to oblige them, I can assure that no harm will come to the people you care about."

"You want me to sell my body?" Dahlia questions in horror, struggling to keep the traces of disgust showing on her face.

"Sharp mind indeed." Snow observes with a nod, confirming Dahlia's assumptions. "You have already seen what I am capable of, haven't you, Miss Blossom?" Flashes of finding her mother and Rosie with bullet wounds through their skull, bed sheets drenched in their blood. The scream ripping through her own throat as she collapses to the floor. Snow smirks at the haunted, far away look in her eye. "Yes, I think you have."

"Just... Just to be clear," Dahlia's breath hitches as she tries to keep her tears at bay. "If I agree to this, the people I love will be safe."

"You have my word." Snow assures her with a sadistic grin.

"I don't trust your word." Dahlia snaps before her brain can stop her. "How do I know you won't betray our agreement?"

Snow leans back in his lavish chair, not willing to admit how impressed he is by the girl's confidence. "You're a clever girl, Miss Blossom." He murmurs with a tilt of his head. "I'd always wondered how a normal girl from District Five managed to become such a fearsome Victor. And now I have the answer." There's a gleam in his eye as he observes the stony-faced woman in front of him who, even though she has everything to lose and nothing to gain, dares to bite at the hand that caresses her head. "Beauty, Miss Blossom, may be dangerous. But intelligence... Intelligence is lethal."

"I don't care much for your compliments, President Snow." Dahlia states firmly, beginning to lose patience with this man as he tries to run circles around her. "Nor do I care to reflect on the events of my Games. What I do care about is the safety of those I hold dear to my heart. The very people you are threatening." Her tone is fierce and unrelenting, sharp enough to cut through Snow's hardened defences. "So I shall ask again; How do you intend to show me that our agreement will not be betrayed?"

With an unreadable expression, Snow contemplates the question and, more importantly, his answer. This back and forth battle of wits has entertained him and piqued his interest. He was not fooled by Dahlia's character, as so many others in the Capitol were, but he would've never assumed she had such an insightful mind hidden beneath the surface. She is a stubborn girl, steadfast in her beliefs with a determination that cannot be underestimated. He finds himself understanding how she has survived this long.

Swiftly plucking the white rose from the lapel of his jacket, he twirls the stem between his fingers. The fragrant aroma engulfs his senses with a floral bouquet as he admires the perfection of the flower. "Your mother and father must've been keen gardeners, Miss Blossom, to name you and your sisters after such an array of flowers."

"Not really." Dahlia deadpans, unamused by the man skirting around the question. "They could barely keep house plants alive. My mother eventually took to decorating with fake ones."

"My personal favourite is a rose." Snow divulges, holding the white rose out for Dahlia to see. "Pure and perfect. A flower without flaws."

"My mother used to tell us only fake flowers are flawless." Dahlia argues, lips pursed in exasperation. "Even the most beautiful roses have their thorns."

Gazing at the rose once more, Snow finds a tiny yet sharp thorn protruding from the stem. "Right you are, Miss Blossom." A drop of inspiration disturbs his river of thought and an idea forms in his mind. "Why don't we seal this agreement with blood?" He doesn't give Dahlia a chance to question him as he pricks his finger on the thorn, allowing his blood to trickle slightly before wiping it clean on the pristine petals. "Miss Blossom?" Snow offers the rose to the girl who scrutinises it with suspicion.

"No harm will come to those I care about?" Dahlia checks, still wary about this agreement.

Placing a hand to his chest to convey his honesty, he skillfully makes a vow, "I swear they will not suffer by my hands." Biting her bottom lip, Dahlia feels her hesitation sink in. "My offer will not stand forever." With Snow's subtle pressure, she snatches the rose from his hand and adds her own blood to the deal. The puncture only stings for a moment but Dahlia cradles her finger in her hand with regret flooding her body. "A pleasure doing business with you, Miss Blossom."

Snow had a fiendish grin on his face, satisfied with the deal that had been struck. But Dahlia couldn't help but feel that she'd sold her soul to the devil.