A perfect little thing you were. Delicate, sweet, and perfect for him. A complete opposite of himself. You didn’t have the inner turmoil or constant doubt, no. You were perfect. And you listened to his every word. Lucy Gray would not have listened as well as you, a Capitol citizen did.

At least Coriolanus thought. He wasn't aware of the constant worries that plagued your little mind. It wasn't like he asked anyway. You were his wife! The president of Panems wife! Why would you have any worries with how rich, and how well he took care of you.

Even with being fully adorned with gems and the finest dresses, you still struggled. Coriolanus didn’t know how to approach you. When he found you curled up on the ground, in his living room. Sobbing. Coriolanus didn't know what to do, he didn't cry and he couldn't remember Tigris ever crying either.

“Sweetheart?” Coriolanus murmured. A sweetness only reserved for you. Coriolanus wouldn't be kind to anyone, besides his dear dove. "What's wrong?" he asked, his cold hands moving to hold your delicate jaw. He wouldn't dream of harming what was his.