❝ It annoyed me that I could act like such a carefree child, and it made me want to lash out at the weeds, who knew nothing but to grow taller. I wanted to try to be a good girl.
coriolanus snow x fem!oc
academic rivals to lovers
We cannot simply sit and stare at our wounds forever. We must stand up and move on to the next action.
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
She watched her own personal nightmare from her television. Coriolanus Snow had gotten himself trapped in the zoo and paraded his tribute around like they were onstage.
He made them look bad, he made her look bad. It will now be extremely difficult for Tempest to establish a connection with her tribute when he believed that she had abandoned him. Coriolanus made her look negligent by imposing the thought to tributes that the mentors were entitled to join them upon arrival, and she chose not to.
Tempest found herself pacing back and forth in her father's study, contemplating the various ways she could rectify this catastrophic situation. Her father had imparted a small piece of guidance, which she held onto tightly.
When she asked, "how did you get the soldiers to trust you? During the war. How did you get them to willingly march to their deaths?"
He replied, "Give them something to fight for."
The words continued to echo in her mind, replaying over and over again. She tirelessly contemplated countless strategies to regain the favor of her tribute.
She had dwelled on it so deeply that she had momentarily forgotten the true cruelty of the games.
In her pursuit to outsmart Coriolanus, Tempest had become so consumed that she had overlooked the fact that these were not just pawns in a game. They were innocent children, caught in the crossfire of a war they had no part in, paying the price for the actions of their ancestors.
Suppressing the thought, she knew dwelling on it would only hinder her chances of success. She promised herself to revisit this moral dilemma at a more opportune moment in the future.
As she spotted him walking out of Doctor Gaul's office in the hallway, she couldn't hold back her frustration any longer. "Well done, Coriolanus!" she exclaimed, catching him off guard. He quickly turned around and smiled, almost as if he was aware of her annoyance. "Impressive performance, I must say. But I doubt Dean Highbottom agreed," she added.
"It doesn't matter what Highbottom thinks," he countered. "The main objective is to win over the Capitol, and she's doing just that, isn't she?"
Tempest had closed the distance between them, standing almost chest to chest with Coriolanus. Despite her shorter stature, her piercing gaze made him feel small. His smile wavered for a moment as she spoke in a low, stern voice, "You made us all look bad."
Coriolanus couldn't help but feel like a scolded child, as if his own mother was reprimanding him. He couldn't recall a time when she had, but he imagined it would sound just like Tempest's words.
"That wasn't my intention, Tempest," he replied, his smile appearing genuine. However, she saw through it immediately when he added, "I only wanted to make myself look better."
She could have sworn she felt the steam rising from her ears, momentarily consumed by frustration.
And as Coriolanus watched her struggle to find her words, attempting to form coherent sentences, she couldn't help but feel even more aggravated by the smug expression that adorned his face.
"Look at your neck," she pointed out, her eyes glancing at the faint bruising that encircled it. "Did one of the tributes do that to you?"
Coriolanus knew better than to believe her question stemmed from genuine concern. She simply wanted to humiliate him.
"Yes," he replied, in what he hoped was a brave voice. "It was your tribute who did it. Did you know he killed a peacekeeper? That's what the girl from his district claimed. Just hope he doesn't do something worse to you."
Tempest inhaled sharply, but refrained from unleashing her rage. She understood the importance of maintaining composure. Behave, she told herself.
The news was alarming, inconvenient at most, but she couldn't bear the thought of losing. The Galdurs were not known for their graciousness in defeat. Winning was their top priority. Her father's voice echoed in her mind, "If at first you don't succeed, get the hell out of the Capitol."
The sound of students' chatter resonated along the corridor, reaching her ears as she rounded the corner, followed by hurried footsteps.
Tempest was consumed by anger, struggling to keep her overwhelming negative emotions in check. Coriolanus braced himself for her reaction, fully expecting a rude and confrontational response. He fixated his gaze on her, waiting for the insult, the piercing glare, or perhaps a subtle blow.
Surprisingly though, none of those transpired; she merely stood there, trembling. In that moment, he couldn't help but feel a twinge of sympathy towards her. After all, their rivalry only held significance if she could truly challenge him, didn't it?
"He doesn't even have shoes," Coriolanus commented, attempting to pass it off as an insult, mocking the tribute she had received. However, deep down, he knew better than to acknowledge that it was his true intent. He threw her a bone, the only one.
Tempest's eyes widened in surprise at Coriolanus' unexpected comment. She had expected him to belittle her, to make fun of her, to do anything to bring her down. But instead, he had shown her a small act of kindness, something she had never seen from him before.
For a moment, Tempest's anger dissipated, replaced by confusion and a hint of gratitude. She couldn't understand why Coriolanus had said what he did, but she couldn't deny that it had made her feel a little better.
"Neither do you," she comments, looking toward his feet. But the smile on her face was unmistakable. "Or at least one's that fit."
The air crackled with tension as Coriolanus stood there, rooted to the spot, captivated by the sight of her retreating figure. The way she moved with a newfound confidence, her grin lighting up her face, fueled a fire within him.
With each step she took towards the magnificent doors, he felt a surge of anticipation coursing through his veins.
Gone was the uncertainty that had plagued her before. There was a newfound strength in her stride, a spark in her eyes that spoke of determination. She was no longer the timid, hesitant woman he had encountered moments ago. She had transformed into something fierce, audacious even.
As she glanced back at him, a mischievous twinkle danced in her eyes, and a surge of exhilaration coursed through him. In that moment, he could almost taste the electric energy that enveloped her.
It was as if lightning had been unleashed within her very being, and he couldn't tear his gaze away.
The worries and reservations that had nagged at him earlier seemed trivial in comparison to the intoxicating allure that she now possessed. Her boldness, her self-assurance, had cast a spell over him.
He found himself drawn to her like a moth to a flame, unable to resist the magnetic pull she had over him.
The smile that played on his lips was no longer filled with annoyance or shame, but with pure delight. He reveled in the knowledge that his comment, his mere words, had awakened her spirit and set her ablaze. He had given her an advantage, yes, but in doing so, he had also unshackled something deep within her. His Tempest was back.
As she disappeared through the grand doors, enveloped in an aura of confidence, he couldn't help but feel a strange mix of emotions. In that electrifying moment, he knew why they named her Tempest.
