You could feel his icy gaze cut into you like a hot knife through butter; he glared at you from the front of the room. His cerulean blue eyes were cold and his expression dark. Ignoring your presence entirely, he turned back to his screen and selected another bottle of water for Lucy Gray Baird.

The footage of the 10th Hunger Games played on the big television screen, but the live feed was being disregarded as the other senior students of the Academy were conversing with each other in muted, reticent chatter. Coriolanus watched the screen as the drone delivered the bottle of water to Lucy Gray. Peering at the feed with reproachful eyes, Coriolanus sighed bitterly as his tribute disappeared into the hole in the ground again.

A few uneventful minutes, Lucy Gray could be seen running out of the hole, and trying desperately to dodge the deadly knife that was struck at her multiple times during the ambush. With wide eyes, and a new sense of trepidation, Coriolanus had sat up in his seat, filled with alertness and adrenaline as he watched his fellow songbird run for her life. He clenched his hand into a fist, and he stared at the television, frantically praying in his head. He wanted Lucy to survive this. He wanted her to win. For the Plinth prize, of course. He wanted the Plinth prize. He needed it. Desperately. But he knew he'd get it, because he had supplied his tribute with rat poison, to help her win. Coriolanus would get his way; Snow lands on top, after all.

But even then, he felt an uncomfortable nagging feeling, he whipped his head back to face you, and his instincts were accurate. He had caught you staring at him yet again. Frowning at your idiocy, he turned himself so he was facing you fully. He hated the fact that you were looking at him, and interrupting him so rudely. He folded his arms disdainfully before speaking.

"Is there a problem?"

He had spoken with as much contempt and superiority as he could muster. He glowered at you condescendingly, waiting for your response...