So… This is crack and not to be taken too seriously. Akachankami asked me to write her one of our crack!ship for Christmas

Checkmate

"That's a lot of roses."

Coriolanus Snow lifted his head to look at the intruder. Nobody had visited his old conservatory/new prison since the official surrender he had issued a few hours earlier.

"Your favorite flower, if I recall right, Alma." he commented, a small smile playing on his lips despite everything. Alma Coin stood in front of him in all the glory of her grey jumpsuit. It suited her eyes, he thought, it also suited her personality, the whole thing looked very martial. "You went overboard with the bombs."

"You stared it." she replied with a shrug.

"Ah, ah, now…" he shook his head. "You were the one who kidnapped my victors."

"And I won." There was a smug smile on her lips. "Won't you grant me that, Coriolanus?"

"Victory is a fleeting thing, my darling." he purred.

"Checkmate." she insisted.

"You always had an unhealthy obsession for that game." he laughed softly. "Was it worth it? Was it worth putting Panem through blood and fire?"

She crouched in front of him slowly and he watched, unable to tear his eyes away from her even after all this time. Years had passed since the last time but she looked beautiful still to him. She looked dangerous, feral… She looked like his reflection in the mirror : prepared to do anything.

"I warned you I would have my revenge." she said simply, reaching for his face. He forced himself not to flinch but the bounds strained at his wrists. She could do whatever she wanted with him and he wouldn't be able to defend himself. He shouldn't have been expecting a blow. Her fingers wiped the blood away from his brow and, perhaps, it was worst than violence. The tenderness ever still present in the gesture.

It reminded him of days long gone, of afternoon in the suns and morning spent in bed, of laughter and kisses and a feeling of happiness that was only a faint memory by now.

"Hell has no fury like a woman scorned." he quoted quietly.

"Very true." Alma nodded. "It's only fair, poetic in a way. You cast me aside for power and I took that power from you."

"Did you come to gloat then?" he asked, only mildly interested.

"I came to tell you Katniss Everdeen would kill you as soon as she's healthy again." she declared. "I warned her she would have to fight me for it but I thought… Why not?"

Somehow, somewhere, he knew she would never have been able to kill him. Not in cold blood. She loved him still. She hated him too, probably. But a hatred so strong only found its root in a passionate love.

"You did kill her sister." he mused. "Seems like a fair trade."

"I learned from the best." she whispered, leaning to drop a kiss at the corner of his mouth. He probably tasted like blood but he figured it was alright. Alma had always been bloodthirsty anyway. She brushed her fingers against his cheek and her face briefly softened. "Goodbye, my love."

"Goodbye." he replied with a smile, watching her walk out of his life for the second time. There would be a third probably. There always was with her.

He was surprised to find out he didn't mind losing so much.

Losing to her was a privilege.