#the hunger games tbosas | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

milliesfishes · 3 months ago

Text

꣑ৎ౨ৎWildflower꣑ৎ౨ৎ

[fem reader] contains: pregnancy, angst pairing: peacekeeper coriolanus snow x fem reader summary: an accident leaves you reeling trying to figure out what happens next author’s note: got this one out quick, hope it's good <3 Pinterest Board Spotify Playlist

Summer was rearing its head once again and the more time passed, the less you were sure what to make of it.

In the pocket of enchantment you'd found yourself in a year ago, this would have been something beautiful. The passing of days was a gift, and each one brought forth something new, something worth cupping in your palms and keeping close to your heart for all eternity.

But it was not a year ago. And you were a different woman now.

It was a hot day, the air thick with temperature. You'd been running errands in town, feet throbbing with every new step. When you spotted a bench a little bit away you motivated yourself to move to it, pace faster until you were finally able to sit. A tiny gasp of relief left you as some of the pressure was relieved. It was to be expected- you were carrying extra weight now after all.

Exhaling through your nose, your gaze lowered to your middle, a hand instantly finding the swell of it. You smoothed your dress over your belly and tried to ignore the pain slithering around your lower back, sinking its fangs in every now and then.

There was no ring on your finger, no unspoken promise to the eyes of strangers that claimed you as a man's. All you had was the child growing within, the one that had been with you for four months, almost five.

Though you held your head high, even the mere notion that you should be ashamed made you feel it. People stared and whispered, wondering how this possibly could have happened. You were tainted now with the stain of bloody rumors, of things you didn't let bother you in public but were the cause of your tears at night. Once or twice you'd even been asked what everyone was wondering outright. Who's the father?

It was a learned skill to smile politely and excuse yourself.

Now you shut your eyes, leaning your head against the cool shaded portion of the brick wall behind you. You wished you'd thought to braid your hair today- it may as well have been a fur coat sticking to your body. Just a few more minutes.

The baby inside you shifted, and you hummed, looking down as if you could see her staring back at you. Quietly you rubbed the curve. "I know. I know, we're almost done," you murmured, fingers lazily trailing up and down. Stretching your legs out, you let your feet roll at the ankle, relieving some of the pain.

There were low voices nearby. You lifted your eyes, spotting the group of men in grey uniforms carrying guns. Straightening a bit, you scanned their faces, shadowed a bit by matching helmets. All solemn, nearly alike to one another. A twinge of sadness marked your mouth as you imagined each of them, some forced into service, some destined for this life endlessly lonely.

The group paused, stationing themselves at different intervals along the street. You lowered your vision when one positioned himself near you, the gap of the nearby alleyway marking the space between you.

He kept his eyes forward and you didn't bother looking up. Time stilled for a moment as a thousand thoughts pierced the bubble of your mind. Some insane. Some worse.

Tension is nearly physical. You could feel it tying around your hands like an invisible rope. Picking up your bag at your feet, you stood and brushed your dress off, ignoring the sticky hot of your hair on your neck.

The rest had done you some good. Now the hurt in your feet was dull, replaced by a different kind in your heart. Where you had once thought that kind of pain made up, now you felt it nearly every day. You inhaled softly, turning to leave.

He was looking at you now. Face stiff, hands firmly grasping his weapon. But his eyes...bluer than the lake on a clear day. A lake you had swum in. A lake that was nearly drowning you.

Now the streets may as well have been empty, dust lapping at your ankles as the gentle breeze danced around the floor. It was eerily quiet in this part of town, any noise wafting from the square by the fountain that had long dried out.

Impulses probed at your hands but you held them down. When your eyes met his, you didn't realize your hand went to touch your belly until he looked down at it.

Emotions were a hurricane. You wanted to thrash and scream and wail and ask why. Why life was so unfair, why so much suffering was thrust upon you, and you were expected to bear it with a smile. Some days were harder than others. You hadn't thought this would be one, but suddenly it was.

Giving the man in front of you one final look, you ducked into the alleyway and walked quickly through the shortcut. Maybe he had turned around to watch you go. You doubted it.

The baby stirred again and you didn't stop to comfort her this time. It was a reminder. One that would fasten itself to you for the rest of your life. There were endless things you should have been thinking right now.

There was only one rising above the chaotic mess. You hoped your child's eyes would be the same blue as his.

The knock at the door came when it was close to sunset. You had just put your feet up, the idea of starting dinner beginning to probe your mind. Shifting so you were sitting up better, you called, "Come in!"

When he entered, boots clomping the wooden floor of your simple home, you smiled tiredly, hand falling from atop your belly. Coriolanus stopped in front of you almost nervously. He'd swapped out his stark grey uniform for his blue civvies and white short sleeved shirt. It was too hot to wear the matching button-down.

You sighed, sleepily reaching out a hand. He took it, indulging you when you pulled him to sit on the sofa at your side. The second he was sitting, you leaned into him, head on his chest, belly touching his thigh. He knew the drill, hand sliding around you to rub your back, touching the lower aches you'd once confessed to him tearfully.

"How are you?" he murmured, turning his head to press his lips to your forehead. The sweet simplicity of the gesture nearly had tears pricking your eyes like beestings. Kindnesses were few and far between these days, and they mostly sprouted from him.

Nuzzling his chest, you said, "Fine." He moved his hand from your back to your belly, still holding you around the waist. His fingers splayed out, touching the edge of it. You settled your palm on his chest, bracing yourself and rubbing the center of it. "I've missed you."

"I'm sorry." Nowadays you felt like that was all you heard from him. Apology after apology for things neither of you could control. But he took it into stride, giving you as much as he could.

It was a soldier's rule: no marriages until five years after arrival to the location. Coriolanus had hardly been here three. Before this, you'd had daydreams about marrying barefoot and young and shining, his sweetheart through and through. And even though he rarely spoke of it, you'd known he wanted it too. Someday was a common word on both your tongues.

All it had taken was one night to ruin it. One night doing something you'd done so many times before, love drunk in his arms and whispering sweet nothings between heated kisses.

It had left you with a burden. Him with a promise he couldn't fulfill before it was carried out. You both with a secret.

And so you carried it all. Grew his child by yourself, the painful loneliness swallowing any joy you may have felt otherwise. He came to you whenever he could, caught brief flashes of your changing body, of something he'd created with you blooming in the shelter of your belly.

You knew he hated it. Hated missing so much and only being able to experience it for hours at a time. You hated it too, how much you needed him when he wasn't there. This had been a far off fantasy but now you were stuck with it.

Now, as he gazed down at you, you could read the hint of guilt tinting his eyes. He carried much of it, your Coryo, for a vast majority of things in his short life. You wished you could sweep it all away with a touch, a kiss, a smile. But all you could do was push it under the rug, later to be uncovered.

He lifted his hand to your face, and you leaned into his warm palm, not breaking your eyes from his. Coriolanus' other hand smoothed up and down your waist. His words were quiet. "You're so beautiful."

You didn't feel beautiful right now. The weight you'd gained, the pain on your insides piercing your sky like lightning in the oceanic turmoil of your heart. It was a mess. But the way he looked at you, you almost believed it.

With a small smile, you clasped his wrist, carefully bringing the hand down to your lips and kissing his knuckles. "I love you."

"I love you." He said it like a promise, a vow. You knew those three words, casual to some, weren't at all for him. Love was a commitment. It was more sacred to him than 'I do'. You knew all this, keeping it in mind whenever you told him.

Shifting, you moved to get up, but he stopped you, bracing a hand over your back. "What's wrong? Where are you going?"

"I was about to get something to eat," you said, stretching your arms out forward. "Just to keep me going until dinner."

"Let me." He was standing before you could protest, heading into the kitchen. You heard cupboards opening and shutting, the domesticity of the sound making you smile. He was always eager to jump up and help you since your time together was so little. And you never minded because it gave you time to pretend. For a moment you could pretend that this was your life.

You could imagine that whenever he came home, he would stay.

In practically no time he was returning to you with a bowl in hand, one of the pretty china ones with blue patterns on the outside that your mother had left you in her passing. A silver fork stuck out of it, and you peered inside when he brought it to you. Strawberries, neatly sliced and dusted with sugar.

You smiled like sunburst and took the bowl from him, leaning over to kiss his cheek when he sat back down, dutifully rewinding his arm around you. "Thank you."

"You're welcome." He was absentmindedly stroking the side of your belly again, soothing the need that hollowed out a space when he wasn't there.

It was a haven of silence as you sat there with him, eating your berries and relaxing into his arms. He took the bowl when you finished, leaning forward to set it on the table. The sun was setting right outside the window and peeking through the thin lace of your curtains. You watched it quietly, dreading every second that passed. The further the sun ran, the closer at hand his departure was.

You could feel it before he began to unknot himself from you, taking his arm away and beginning to stand. But you sucked in a sharp breath, grasping at his arm. "Don't."

In his voice you could practically hear the lines cracking his heart like spiderwebs. "I have to. Sweetheart..." You shook your head, breaths growing quicker. Tears clawed at your throat, and you tried not to let it show.

"Please," you breathed, clasping your hand in his. "Don't leave me. I need you-" A little sob cut you off as you imagined the night ahead, lying by yourself. Fighting the hurt your body radiated all the while missing him and fruitlessly wishing he was here.

Coriolanus knelt in front of you, taking your face in his hands. He thumbed away a tear that slipped from the corner of your eye, his own never leaving yours. You sniffled, holding his wrists. "I can't do this without you-" your voice was high and hitching on every word. It was so much harder to be brave at night.

"Shh, my love." He smoothed your hair away from your face, just taking you in. Your breaths were shivering and shaky, and he let his hands fall to your shoulders, standing up. You looked up at him helplessly as he bent to kiss your forehead, holding you on your cheek. "It's going to be okay. I'll be back when I can."

"Stay," you tried, but he merely shook his head once, pushing your face to his chest. You breathed him in, holding him by his shirt and crying breathily. He stroked your hair gently and kissed the top of it once before his fingers fell from your skin like a leaf in autumn.

"Take care of her. Stay safe," he whispered, bending to press his lips to yours once, fleetingly. Your mouth was turned down, and he brushed two tears from your cheeks.

Reluctantly he pried himself from you and in an instant he was gone, the door shutting punctuated by the lonely sound of his footsteps becoming fainter the further he walked away.

Now it was dark, the shadows of your home swallowing everything. You had a dim idea to light a candle, but it was lost to the pits of your despair. Sometimes you wondered if he should stop coming, so you wouldn't miss him as badly.

The lonely sounds of the night were hollow in your ears. Grass rustled lightly against itself, and the house creaked every now and then as if shifting on its feet. You were perfectly still, feeling as though you were drowning.

For just a moment you wondered if you could just disappear. Let your body wither away into nothingness, or have the earth swallow your house as if it were never there. Your memory would be lost to time eventually and all the hardship you had been through would be nothing. You fantasized endlessly about it being nothing. Because it definitely didn't feel like that right now.

Inside you, the baby moved, and you could almost imagine her stretching. She had been still the entire time her father had been beside you. Your heart stopped at the thought of her meeting him for the first time, reaching up with tiny hands. Of her having his hair, his mouth, his eyes.

Taking in a slow breath, you let your final tear fall, a dot on your dress. Planting your feet on the ground, you stood, carefully making your way into the kitchen to find a candle. One step at a time.

Each step meant he would come back to you sooner.

175 notes · View notes

milliesfishes · 3 months ago

Note

Omg I could really use some PK coryo angst from you, every time you write an angsty snippet about him I die 😭 PK coryo is something else

꣑ৎ౨ৎThe Bodyguard꣑ৎ౨ৎ

[fem reader] contains: attempted kidnapping pairing: peacekeeper coriolanus snow x fem reader summary: after a scary incident, your father takes what you deem unnecessary precautions author’s note: anon I apologize for not answering this sooner but I hope this fulfills the need <3 tagging @melo-bees thank you so much for this idea lovey!! Pinterest Board Spotify Playlist

Skipping through the town square, you dodged a few stray people, bestowing them large smiles and letting your bag swing as you passed through. You hummed something to yourself, basking in the sunlight. Summer was in full bloom, and you reveled in it, feeling as though you were in a whirlwind of happy things.

Maybe you shouldn't be out here by yourself. Maybe you should have told someone where you were going, like your mother or a maid or something. But it was just a quick pop into the market, to say hello to a few people and maybe get something pretty for yourself.

The arduous years of school had ended in the spring, and you'd proudly taken your diploma and hung it in a silver frame on your wall. A part of you mourned the loss of that time, knowing the innocence of those years would be pried from your hands and twisted into something worth marrying. But the other held onto the spark of youth that somehow hadn't been doused by your parent's warnings of the future.

"A young lady shouldn't wander the streets by herself." "A young lady needs protection." Given your father's prominence, there were legions of Peacekeepers at his disposal, and he'd made empty threats of putting one or more on your tail. But you waved them off. They were nothing but air.

Clasping the hands of a woman behind a vendor's stall, you squealed, bouncing on your heels. "Oh, Ember you've outdone yourself this week." The jewelry spread out across the wooden surface of the table was exquisite, metal twisting around itself, stones embedded as the tiniest of details. You held up a pair of earrings, letting the light catch the gold and emphasize the red shine of the tiny rocks nestled in the crafted design. "Would it be alright if I got these?"

"Of course, honey," she smiled, taking the coins you slipped into her hands. Counting them, she frowned and tried to pass a few back. "That's too much-"

"Really? Could've sworn you undercharged." Grinning, you swapped your old earrings out, stowing them safely in a pocket of your bag.

Ember gave you an exasperated look. "Now-"

"It's been a pleasure, I'll see you next time!" You tossed a few more coins on the table, letting them rattle and clink against each other as you broke into a run, skipping away. Ember's laugh followed you like an echo, and you smiled as you pictured her shaking her fist at you.

Your new earrings bounced against your cheeks as you ran down the alleyway and down the lush forest path, holding your skirts in both hands. It was always while running that you felt the freest. And so you did it over and over again, through the trees and streets, through every place you could think of.

With the wind on your legs, you felt liberty's sweet caress all around. It lifted the corners of your lips and practically made you levitate. If feathers sprouted from your limbs and air built up under your arms, sending you soaring into the clouds, you wouldn't have been surprised.

This could be your life. Dancing around town and supporting your friends in the way they needed you to. Nodding along to your father's requests and then turning your cheek. This was boundless, beautiful-

You smacked something firm, the force of it knocking you backwards. Shoulders hitting the dirt, your hair became a curtain over your eyes that you didn't part right away. The collision had stolen your breath, and you chased it back, finally able to grasp and shove it back into your mouth.

Blinking wearily, you swept your hair out of your eyes and got a good look at what had interrupted your joyful flee. A man, clothes tattered, face streaked with dirt. A hat shaded his eyes, but you could see the firmness in them.

An apology bubbled up, escaping your lips as you scrambled to your feet. "I'm so sorry, I wasn't watching where-"

"You're the mayor's daughter." The words were frozen like glaciers, and you lifted your lips in a sweet smile, hoping to thaw him.

"If you'll excuse me-"

His hands were gripping you tight suddenly, roughened nails leaving imprints on your skin. You gasped, wiggling in his hold and trying to squirm away. "I really...if you'd just let me go-"

"How much d'you think Daddy's gonna gimme for givin' his pretty daughter back?" The question sent snakes slithering up your spine, wrapping around your throat. The look in his eyes was haunting, hungry. You cried out, trying to reach out and push him away but he held your wrists fast, twisting one and sending a sharp pain up your arm.

It happened before you could even think. Your knee shot up like a missile, landing between the man's legs. When he shouted, releasing your arms to clutch himself, you caught a glimpse of his mouth. It was unclear whether he was missing teeth or if they were blackened by dust.

You didn't stick around to find out. Now your running had a new purpose, and you sprinted down the road, sobs moving past your lips choked and desperate. Hot tears stung your cheeks as they poured down like rain.

Fear struck you like an arrow, hitting dead center. Over and over you'd been told of people who would be out to get you solely because of the position of your birth, but never before had you witnessed it. As you reached the edge of town, darting back through the narrow alleyway and leaning on the wall to catch your breath, you shuddered involuntarily and hurriedly wiped the tears away from your face.

"Are you alright?"

A gasp clenched your breath and your head snapped up, heart pounding before you realized who stood before you. A tall man in a Peacekeeper's uniform with blue eyes like cornflowers, clutching a weapon. Your shoulders sagged in relief, and your eyes fell to the ground, foot toeing at the cobblestone. "I'm fine."

"You don't look fine." His voice was low and you managed to meet his eyes, holding your chin high.

Studying him, you were almost surprised at how young he appeared to be. Close to your age, surely. It was such a strange thing, to be so close in age and yet so starkly different.

"I'm fine. I'm just having a bad day," you said, wiping your eyes again. It felt humiliating to talk about what had just happened, and so you sealed your lips.

The Peacekeeper's mouth was set in a firm line, and you could tell he didn't believe you for one second. "May I walk you home?" Now you could see the flicker of recognition in his eyes, and you knew the idea of your father was bouncing around in his head. Maybe he wanted praise, or a monetary reward. The chances of him doing it out of the goodness of his heart were low.

Mustering a smile you hoped was sweet, you shook your head, clutching your bag and sidestepping him. "No thank you. I'll manage."

"You're-"

"I'm fine!" you called, already walking away. This time you clung to the shadows rather than enjoying the sunshine. Nobody else needed to see you like this.

It was embarrassing enough that a man with eyes the color of the sky you so badly wanted to soar into had.

The delicate lace of your curtains looked so pretty in the sunshine, and you clasped them in your fingers, pleased to find them warm. Lying stretched out across your bedspread, you smiled brightly, kicking one foot up into the air. The bundle of wildflowers on your nightstand was tied with a ribbon, and their sweetened scent greeted your nose.

It had been a perfect day in the forest, lying amongst the flora and fauna. You'd brought your picnic with you as usual, reading to yourself and enjoying the quiet. In the past bit you'd hardly been able to have a moment to yourself, making today all the more magical.

Since that awful day a week ago you hadn't breathed a word to anybody about what had happened, although you knew your mother suspected something was wrong when you came home with dried tear tracks staining your face like berry juice.

She'd occupied you with social visits of all kinds, to people far and wide across the town. There were only so many parlors you could sit in, so many polite smiles you could offer for so many days in a row before you went crazy.

Of course she meant well. But today was your day, and you had enjoyed it immensely.

Your father's voice pierced the quiet and you sat up when you realized he was calling for you. Swinging your legs to the side of the bed, you stood and stretched, muscles popping like bubbles. It was rare that he summoned you before dinner, and you wondered what he wanted to discuss now. If it was the prospect of another son of a wealthy acquaintance you wanted no part of it.

Making it to his office, you paused in the doorway. Had you known your father wasn't alone, maybe you would have taken the time to smooth your dress or run a brush through your hair.

Standing there in front of him was a young man in a Peacekeeper's uniform, blond hair buzzed to his scalp, hat under his arm. You shyly clung to the frame and watched them exchange words for a moment before they noticed you.

When the other man turned it hit you like a stone. Those eyes. The color of a summer sky. You were frozen for a moment, staring at him and feeling nothing except your heartbeat pounding your ribs. His gaze didn't tear away from you either, and for a moment you felt as though you were the only two people in the room.

What was he doing here?

Your father broke the tension, clearing his throat. "I'll expect you back here tomorrow."

"Yes, sir." The man tore his gaze from you and nodded at your father, shaking his extended hand. "I look forward to it."

On the way out, he paused, giving you a nod. "Miss." You tried to ignore the flutter in your chest.

It wasn't until the front door shutting announced his departure that your father spoke to you. "That was Private Snow."

"Ah." You nodded, shifting on your feet and further entering the room. "Is he going to be here more often?" Now you were imagining him standing guard with the other Peacekeepers protecting your home and family, gorgeous eyes piercing your soul every time you left the bounds.

"Yes." Your father smoothed his beard, studying you. "He'll be here for you."

Straightening, you tilted your head, brow knitting. "For me? What-?"

"For your protection." Before you could argue, he firmly said, "An incident was brought to my attention recently. Apparently, you were seen hysterical in an alley."

Your lips parted and you tried to speak, the words coming out in a pathetic stutter. "I...it was...nothing-"

He held up a hand, effectively silencing you. Your fingers found your skirt, twisting the fabric and clenching it tight as every possible excuse swam through your head. But you could see now that it would fall upon deaf ears. For every time he'd warned you, he'd finally made good on his threat.

"You've been far too careless," he began, each word with an edge like a knife. You swallowed, bowing your head as he continued. "Running around town and cavorting with whoever you want. That ends now. It's very clear you can't handle yourself."

Tears were pricking your eyes, and you suppressed a sniffle. This was humiliating, to be reprimanded by your father for something that wasn't even your fault. In a whisper, you tried, "I didn't mean to-"

A shake of his head cut you off. "Private Snow will be accompanying you from now on wherever you go. You'll have constant supervision so I don't have to deal with you every time you get yourself into something stupid. There will be no further discussion." He turned back to his desk, waving a hand and indicating your dismissal.

The walk back up to your room was slow and shameful. Frustration brimmed at the edges of you, poking and prodding at your head. Constant supervision...already you mourned the loss of your precious alone time, the freedom you had enjoyed. Now you would have a shadow trailing behind you carrying a gun.

Shutting the door, you let your tears fall freely, though no sobs parted your lips and split your soul open. You tried to convince yourself that maybe this could be okay. It wasn't like your routine would be interrupted. It only meant that he would be there.

Sniffling and drying your eyes, you took a deep breath, eyes falling on the wildflowers again. It would be okay. Everything would be okay. It was for your own safety after all.

You tried to picture it then, a prophetic vision. The man who'd looked at you in a way nobody had before, who'd awoken some strange feeling in your heart protecting you.

It stayed with you for the rest of the day, trickling into your dreams.

In Coriolanus' life, he'd been mildly interested in a great many people. Ones who could aid his journey to the top or help him play the game of the Capitol's choosing and change the rules for him. He'd been interested, is all.

But he'd never been utterly enchanted by anyone before. Not until you.

All too often he chided himself. The daughter of the mayor, the girl he was only supposed to be keeping an eye on. Really, whatever he was feeling needed to stop immediately. It was blatantly unprofessional.

And yet here he was, standing in a field under the shade of a tree and watching you use your skirt as a makeshift basket as you gathered strawberries into it. Tucked haphazardly in the crook of your arm was a messy bunch of wildflowers. Your hair was loose, taken out of the braid he'd watched your mother approve before you left the house.

You were a vision, something not meant for his hopeless eyes.

Coriolanus took every bit of his life as a Peacekeeper seriously, but this was another matter entirely. It perplexed him how much more committed he'd found himself once every aspect of his duties were steered in your direction.

He'd once felt fascination for Lucy Gray, whom he'd pulled every stop for to get her out of the arena. A girl with a voice like a songbird whose dedication to her found family had inspired him. She had been his ticket out of poverty, and he clung to it with every fiber of his being. When his methods had been unveiled, resulting in his life sentence to the military, he'd kept at his trying, attempted to bribe his way to her.

The attempt had failed, and now he was in Two, among forest confines. At least he wasn't breathing in coal dust. And now there was you.

Given strict instructions on where you were and weren't supposed to go, Coriolanus had known you would be a stubborn case. From the moment he'd recognized you in the alley he'd gotten the feeling that you were as free spirited as a bird. Your father had seemed all too happy to hand you off. Coriolanus hadn't understood why until this morning.

"It's not dangerous," you'd protested in the kitchen this morning, cutting a few slices of bread. "I go there all the time. There's nothing but trees."

"Your father said not to allow you to go past the town limits," he countered, voice firm. He felt like a giant next to you as you delicately gathered your food into the wicker basket shaped like a heart, pink linen lining the insides.

Giving him an exasperated look, you brushed a stray strand away from your face. It had been bothering him for a minute, and he'd longed to do that exact thing. "What could possibly happen if you're going to be with me the whole time?"

Huffing slightly, Coriolanus felt the beginnings of a headache twinge at his temples. A week into this endeavor and he could already tell you were going to be difficult. You fought him at every turn, pleading with him to let you go literally everywhere on the list of prohibited places.

The market on the wrong side of town. A nighttime club with live music. And now the forest, which had particularly been emphasized to him by your father.

You'd batted your eyelashes and shut the lid of the basket. "Please? You've done such a good job at keeping me safe. And it's not that deep in the forest, just a little bit of a walk."

The white dress you were wearing was edged with fine spun lace at the neckline, exposing your collarbone. He tried not to stare at it, tried not to make it so obvious that he found every angle of you beautiful.

Unhelpfully, the look you were giving him reminded him of a doe, the pretty one who pranced among snowflakes in the picture books with rich illustrations his mother used to read him. He was struck dumb for a moment, staring at you.

"Okay."

The little squeal you gave was worth it alone, along with the way you grabbed his wrist and squeezed. "Thank you!"

Now he was watching you in your element, feeling like he'd stumbled upon a nymph. Your essence trailed behind you like fairy dust.

You spotted him watching you and threw him a sweet smile, one that gnawed at the edges of his heart. He somehow found it in him to snap to his senses, boots crinkling the grass as he made his way over to you. No longer did he have to carry the enormous Peacekeeper's gun, only a small one at his hip. This was one of many perks of working directly for your family, among being moved from the base to the servant's quarters of the house, and of course, you.

Now close to you, he solemnly said, "We should head back," expecting your face to fall or for you to try and pout your way into thirty more minutes. Coriolanus had grown accustomed to your methods in very little time, as they were tried and true.

Instead, you nodded and tried to shift your flowers up the crook of your elbow. "Could you take these? I want to put the berries in my basket."

Coriolanus removed your bouquet, feeling a little silly as he watched you deposit the strawberries. The skirt of your dress was lightly stained with red juice, and he wondered if it was as sweet as you were.

You reached your hand out from where you were kneeling, about to take the flowers when you groaned, letting your arm fall. "My hair. I have to braid my hair. Hold on-" you gathered it up and let it fall behind your shoulders, clumsily separating it into three sections. Your movements were messy, the result a crooked pattern traveling down your back. Tying it off with your ribbon, you reached up once again, expecting him to hand you the bouquet.

He was staring at your hair, frowning. You re-emphasized your hand. "I can take them now-"

"Your hair doesn't look anything like how it did when we left." He studied the messy attempt, and you half smiled.

"It's fine. Nobody pays attention to that."

Coriolanus pressed his lips into a firm line. If you came back looking even slightly like you'd been in the forest, his entire position could be jeopardized. It was bad enough your skirt was stained, but that could be played off. There was no place in town you were allowed to go where you'd be able to take your hair down. Women around here always had it pinned up or pulled back in some way.

Anxiety pulsed at his heart as he imagined what would happen if you were discovered. He'd be disciplined for not following orders and sent back to the barracks, maybe even demoted. Worse, he wouldn't be allowed to be near you anymore. You, who were quickly becoming what he orbited around.

Dropping to his knees and setting your flowers to the side, he paused before he touched your ribbon. "May I?"

You raised your eyebrows. "it's not a big deal Coriolanus."

He ignored how his name sounded with your lips wrapped around it. That was something he could dwell on later, when he was staring at the ceiling and trying to fall asleep. Instead, he gave you a look. "Just let me."

Shrugging, you faced forward and nodded. He untied your ribbon, fingers unweaving the mess you'd made of your soft hair. It was pretty- tumbling down your back like a waterfall, and he savored holding it.

Coriolanus combed his fingers through it once before meticulously separating the sections. You were perfectly still, the peace of the area enveloping you both. He was lost in the task for a moment, carefully weaving the strands together.

Your soft voice lilted his ears. "How do you know how to do this?"

"My cousin used to have me braid her hair," he murmured distractedly, careful as he smoothed one section before folding it over another. "Every day before she went to school."

"Oh." The word was quiet, and he had the feeling you'd have turned around if he'd have let you. "Do you miss her?"

He was surprised by the question, swallowing and nimbly finishing the bottom half of your braid. "Yes." Nobody had asked him about his family since arriving. The closest had been when he'd filled out the Corso address on the form that directed where his pay would be sent.

Tying the silky white ribbon around the end, securing your hair in place, he cleared his throat and sat back, getting to his feet. "All done."

You lifted your eyes to him, and he was rewarded by that sweet smile again. Coriolanus held out his hand and you took it, standing up with your flowers in one hand and your basket hooked over the same arm. For a moment, your soft hand stayed in his, soft fingers wrapped around his palm. "Thank you," you breathed, meeting his gaze.

It took a moment for him to find his words. Even the mere sight of you shook him to his core. "You're welcome."

On the walk back home, you let go of his hand and he mourned its loss for a moment before you slipped your own into the crook of his elbow, eyes darting around the space. He'd noticed you do this on the walk over too, searching the space as if you were expecting something to appear from the tree line.

As you walked quietly beside him, he thought of the first day he'd seen you, with tears falling and eyes blown wide. You'd come from the forest then too, and he wondered what had scared you so badly it had lingered. You bit the inside of your cheek and took in a shaky breath.

"I'll keep you safe." The words slipped out, but he made no attempt to remedy them.

If his heart was going to spark every time you looked at him, it would be a fire in no time. You searched his eyes, squeezing his elbow. Even through his uniform shirt he could feel your hand warm from the sun. If he wanted to (and he very much did) he could count every freckle you'd gained from your time outside.

With no more than a smile and a sweetheart's demeanor, you'd ignited something so untouchable in his soul, something that almost scared him. It was untouchable, boundless. An ocean of wonder he was only beginning to set sail on.

If the boat capsized and drowned, he'd go happily.

168 notes · View notes