Two ✧・゚: *✧・゚:*

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 "The Songbird"

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"The Songbird"

✧・゚: *✧・゚:*

Coriolanus Snow was a proud boy, that's why his assigned tribute had rocked him like a slap on the face. District Twelve was bad enough to be stuck with, but the girl! He had lost already. The Hunger Games were won by brute force, it was evident to see after ten years of them. His joint-swollen, stunted girl from the joke District would stand no chance of survival against Winter's colossal tribute, or even the small boy that Clemensia had. He was sure this was the Deans doing, he must have heard that stupid nickname, had been told that it came from him and this was his punishment.

His cheeks burned scarlet with embarrassment as he adjusted himself in his chair and looked to Winter. The girl's eyes were already on him, offering him a soft smile that made him redder, this time with anger. He didn't want her pity, he didn't need it.

This whole thing was just another thing to add to the ever-growing list of reasons why Coriolanus held a sense of ambivalence towards the red-haired girl. While half of him adored Winter, felt like his days were better when she was around, and was proud to be seen with her on his arm knowing he was the envy of their peers, the other half held a great feeling of disdain towards her. She held influence over their classmates due to her last name alone, far more than he had, and less deserving of it in his eyes.

She was aloof to the hand she had been dealt, and she had no problem showing that, if it were him he'd be right there, basking in the glory. It infuriated a part of him, while he was fighting tooth and nail to earn his place all she had done was be born to a high-functioning, morphling dependent man who had drunkenly sealed his place in history in the worst possible way...

However, he knew that befriending Winter and staying in her good graces was the smartest thing he could do. If he wanted to be President by the time he was thirty he'd need her sharp mind, and father's money to do so. He had it all planned out in his head, she'd take on the privilege of the Games after her father died, he'd become Head Gamemaker, and they'd cash in on it, thrusting the Capitol back into its place as the superior sector of Panem.

He'd reward her, of course, he wasn't that selfish, and she'd make a fine First Lady. He could see it so clearly, they'd be the most powerful couple in the country, the picture of perfection, a symbol of triumph. Any thoughts of resentment or jealousy he had for Winter would be dispersed when she took her rightful place with him, the perfect wife, like an obedient sparrow in a cage.

"The District Twelve girl tribute is Lucy Gray Baird." The eyes of Winter and Coriolanus found the screen again, watching as the camera swept over the crowd of gray, hungry faces, in gray shapeless clothing, seeking the tribute until she stepped out into the pathway down the middle earning murmurs from the Academy students. Lucy Gray Baird walked with her hands clasped behind her back in a dress made of rainbow ruffles that instantly caught Winter's attention.

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