It Burns For You

Between the Comfort and the Chaos

ᴛʜɪꜱ ᴘᴀʀᴛ ꜰᴇᴀᴛᴜʀᴇꜱ ᴋᴀᴛɴɪꜱꜱ (ʏᴀʏ) ᴀɴᴅ ꜱɴᴏᴡ'ꜱ ᴄᴏɴᴠᴇʀꜱᴀᴛɪᴏɴ ɪɴ ᴛʜᴇ ɢʀᴇᴇɴʜᴏᴜꜱᴇ. ɪ ʜᴀᴠᴇ ᴄʜᴀɴɢᴇᴅ ɪᴛ ᴛᴏ ꜰɪᴛ ᴛʜᴇ ɴᴀʀʀᴀᴛɪᴠᴇ ᴛʜᴏᴜɢʜ ꜱᴏ ɴᴏ ᴏɴᴇ ɪꜱ ᴀʟʟᴏᴡᴇᴅ ᴛᴏ ꜱᴀʏ "ᴏʜ ᴛʜɪꜱ ɪꜱɴ'ᴛ ʜᴏᴡ ɪᴛ ᴡᴇɴᴛ!" ɪᴛ ɪꜱ ɴᴏᴡ. ᴛʜᴀᴛꜱ ᴡʜʏ ɪᴛꜱ ᴄᴀʟʟᴇᴅ ꜰᴀɴꜰɪᴄᴛɪᴏɴ.

𝕎𝕒𝕣𝕟𝕚𝕟𝕘𝕤: ᴍᴇɴᴛɪᴏɴꜱ ᴏꜰ ꜱᴜɪᴄɪᴅᴇ

Italics designate that it is a dream. This part is unedited. 

The sun is warm on his skin as his eyes meet yours. Musical laughter fills his ears and soft hair tickles his nose.

"What are you laughing at now?" He asked, his voice deep with sleep.

"Your hair is ridiculous, Coryo." You tease pointing at his head

"And who did that hmm? I seem to remember you pushing your fingers through it a thousand times last night." He replies shifting around in the soft white sheets so he's sitting upright.

"You lie! I'd never." You laugh, sitting up beside him, clothed in a soft-looking nightgown he picked out for you.

"Sure you would, you're a menace." He says, wrapping his arms around you and caging you to his chest

"How rude to say to the only person who puts up with that terrible attitude of yours!" You say trying to free yourself from his iron grip.

His muscles flex slightly and his fingers begin to tickle you.

"Coryo!" You laugh, wiggling around in his lap "Coriolanus Snow! I'm going to pee!"

He relents and lets you go at the threat of urine. Wetting the bed is unattractive.

Coriolanus wakes with his heart feeling full. A smile fights for a spot on his face amongst the wrinkles that have formed over the years.

"Now there's something you don't see on a dead man's face. A smile."

His smile falls and his gaze snaps to the voice. He groans and straightens up in the uncomfortable chair he dozed off in

"I'm Commander Paylor. From District 8. I wanted to see you before the Mockingjay executes you tomorrow."

Coriolanus isn't entirely sure what to say to the woman in front of him.

"You wanted to meet the monster up close?" He asks, pulling a pure white rose from its spot next to a fountain.

"Yes." She confirms.

Her voice is unshaken as he steps towards her and holds his hand with the rose out.

"Give the Girl on Fire this for me. As a gift." He requests

The woman, rebel, Paylor, slowly takes it from him, undoubtedly suspicious. He smiles when she does, a sign of good faith, but it must scare her because he can tell she's not charmed.

Unsurprisingly, his good looks had vanished years ago.

"What makes you think she'll want this?" She asks shoving the rose back at him.

"You're right, she wouldn't want it. Although perhaps she'll find me herself, then I can give it to her directly."

Paylor doesn't say another word to him and instead takes her leave. He watches her mumble something to the guards before walking. Most likely demanding that they watch him closely. Like he had somewhere he could run off to, the moment the Capitol's children were killed by bombs, he had lost any bits of support he had left.