❝ 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
Some of the most poisonous people come disguised as friends and family.
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The mentors dutifully made their way towards the main exit, following Professor Sickle's instructions. "You're all required to proceed to the high biology lab for a debriefing," she informed them. Although no one voiced their doubts, they couldn't help but speculate about the purpose of this meeting as they walked through the halls.
Tempest was glancing over her filled out questionnaire, making sure everything looked neat and according to standard. Coriolanus moved to walk next to her.
"It appears that you and Reaper have become quite close," he seems somewhat unsettled by this. "Sharing laughter, shedding tears, and even holding hands."
Tempest barely lifts her gaze from her paper, reminding, "Don't feel jealous simply because Lucy Gray doesn't find you amusing like Reaper finds me amusing."
"I'm plenty amusing!" Coriolanus almost defends, but when he sees her humored smirk, he realizes he had fell right into her trap. "I am not envious," he counters, more sternly this time.
Tempest's tone carried a hint of mockery as she gave her response, "of course not," then proceeded to mention how she had been aware of Coriolanus' piercing stare on the back of her head throughout the entire fifteen minutes.
It's clear that he is taken aback by her words. As he prepares to refute her claim, she throws a question at him, "Tell me, Coriolanus. How does it feel to lose?" His expression turns cold and unyielding, as if transformed into stone. Undeterred, she persists, "I've never experienced defeat myself, so I'm genuinely curious to know how it feels for someone who loses so frequently."
He abruptly stops in front of her, causing her to almost crash into him. The suddenness of his action catches her off guard, and she stumbles, barely managing to regain her balance. Her heart races as she looks up at him, her eyes wide with surprise and confusion.
"You are infuriating," he murmurs, his voice low and filled with a mix of amusement and challenge. Leaning in so close that his breath tickles her ear, he sends shivers down her spine. The proximity between them is electrifying, and she finds herself unable to move or even breathe.
"What do you say we make a bet of our own?" he proposes, his voice laced with a hint of mischief. The words hang in the air, leaving her both intrigued and apprehensive. A bet? What kind of bet could he possibly have in mind?
Her curiosity gets the better of her, and she musters the courage to respond, her voice barely above a whisper. "What kind of bet?"
A mischievous smile tugs at the corners of his lips as he leans back slightly, giving her some space to breathe. His eyes lock onto hers, holding her captive in their intensity. "A bet to see who's tribute will last longer," he suggests, his voice filled with a challenge that sends a thrill through her.
