You sit between Arachne Crane and Coriolanus. “Who would’ve thought you could buy your way into the capital?” Festus Creed mutters, he and Felix Ravenstill glancing over with disdain at Sejanus Plinth, a boy from district 2 who ended up in the capital after his father aided in the war against the districts. He went from rags to riches, though his beginnings as a district boy well overshadow his current state of wealth to the other academy students.

“You could dress a turnip in a ball gown, it’ll still beg to be mashed,” Coriolanus murmurs, and Arachne snickers under her breath. He looks amongst the peers he keeps near for the sake of supposed acquaintanceship.

He isn't exactly fond of any of them--they're all as false as he is. Pretty smiles and perfect hair, dimples that hide the thinly veiled derision they feel for those not like them. He's certain any one of them would happily sink a knife into his back if it meant it'd get them ahead.

Of course, they all know his worth. Not in wealth, but in his lineage. Despite the lack of food in his pantry--unbeknownst to anyone outside of his family--he is a Snow. What screams power more than that? Certainly not some district boy whose daddy paid his way into the capital.

Now, the feelings he harbors for you are of a different nature. Much more veiled than the mutual civility he holds for those he calls friends; he has a special place in his heart for you. Feelings he's not sure he can name aside from the desire to be near you whenever you are around, the desire to sneak touches under the table, to steal subtle glances between conversations.

He wouldn't be so boorish as to say he undresses you with his eyes, but he certainly admires the way your tunic is tucked into the hem of your bottoms. Classy, a display of your family's wealth, yet they fit you well. It's obvious you're trying to look good, though it's not in the way his peers try to seem presentable. You are deliberate in your choice of attire, which is clearly meant to flatter his eyes.