*:ꔫ:* 𝐌𝐎𝐍𝐄𝐘, 𝐏𝐎𝐖𝐄𝐑, 𝐆𝐋𝐎𝐑𝐘
⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚{𝐂𝐎𝐑𝐈𝐎𝐋𝐀𝐍𝐔𝐒 𝐒𝐍𝐎𝐖}
In the Capitol's shadow, where white roses conceal secrets and emerald eyes mask desires; the fight for money, power, and glory weaves a clandestine dance of ambition a...
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THE ACADEMY'S DINING HALL BUSTLED WITH ACTIVITY AS THE CLINKING OF CUTLERY AND LIVELY CHATTER FILLED THE AIR. The remnants of the Reaping buffet lingered on, a testament to the grandeur of the previous event.
The dining hall's atmosphere bore a mix of academic seriousness and the peculiar luxury that characterized the Capitol's elite educational institutions.
The architectural grandeur of the hall featured high vaulted ceilings adorned with elegant chandeliers that cast a warm, ambient glow over the polished tables and plush seating.
Ornate pillars and detailed molding added a touch of classic sophistication to the space, making it a setting befitting the Capitol's privileged youth.
Amidst the culinary offerings, the creamed ham on toast held a special place in the gastronomic hierarchy, heralding itself as a culinary high point of the school lunch year.
Amidst this scene, Seraphina found herself seated at a table, contentedly wrapping her own carefully selected food items.
The purposeful movements of her hands revealed a meticulous nature, as she prepared a meal to be delivered to her assigned tribute, Reaper, at the zoo.
As she immersed herself in this task, the chair opposite hers scraped against the floor, signaling the arrival of Coriolanus.
Determination etched on his face, he approached the table, ready to confront Seraphina about her earlier behavior and unravel the mystery behind her deliberate avoidance.
The impending conversation held the promise of revelations and tensions, set against the backdrop of the Academy's distinguished dining hall.
Coriolanus, his frustration barely contained, took a leaned in closer across from Seraphina.
The air around them seemed charged with tension as he couldn't fathom why she had been deliberately ignoring him.
His voice carried a note of anger, laced with the possessiveness he struggled to conceal.
"Seraphina, what in Panem's name was that about?" he demanded, his tone sharp.
"You've been avoiding me all day, and I'm tired of it. What did I do to deserve this treatment?"
His eyes, a mix of frustration and hurt, bore into Seraphina's, searching for an explanation.
The possessiveness he felt toward her, a sentiment he had long tried to suppress, surfaced in the intensity of his gaze.
Coriolanus' thoughts are a storm of conflicting emotions. Seraphina's cold shoulder gnawed at him, unsettling the carefully constructed order he maintained within
Her absence, her silence, it was a void he couldn't tolerate. She was more than a friend; she was a necessity, a part of his intricate design.
"Seraphina," he murmured her name like a mantra, his mind weaving a complex tapestry of possession and desire.
