His eyes were half-lidded as he idly flipped through the channels. The room he was in was dark, but the grandeur of it could still be seen. Apathy seeped off of him in waves. His father's well-paid staff steered clear of the room unless absolutely necessary, because they all knew that there was something off about that Snow boy.
"CHARISE! CHARISE!" The boy seemed to only know two ways of speaking: low and mocking or a shrill scream that did not fit his apathetic demeanor at all, but chilled you to the bone if you heard it. A maid with a terrified expression entered the room.
"Yes, Mr. Snow?" Her voice didn't tremor like she had expected it to, and she almost breathed a sigh of relief. Almost. She never felt comfortable in his company. Still, the boy seemed to sense her fear and smirked. His eyes were perpetually low, as if nothing was ever important enough for him to open them fully.
"Charise," he spoke slowly, a trait he picked up from his father. "Why is there nothing to watch on television?" He liked to do that, ask questions she couldn't really answer. He enjoyed watching her stumble over her words, desperate to appease the boy who could have her tongue cut out at the snap of his fingers.
"Well there is, Mr. Snow. In fact, my friend was telling me that this year's Hunger Games was the best one yet. And so romantic too, with that Gale Hawthorne and Katniss Everdeen." She has gotten carried away, and forgets to tentatively check Snow's expression. She starts to say more, but is cut off by a loud crashing sound. Glass flies everywhere and the TV is off the wall and on the floor, smoking. For a moment, she can't breathe.
"Don't mention that District 12 scum in my house." His voice is low and calm but the glint in his eyes freezes her. He's not breathing heavily, which she finds, vaguely, odd, and his stance is rigid. His are wide open and are intent on her. She nods vigorously, whispers a quiet "OK", and shuffles out of the room.
She eats ice cream later that night for desert. It's the last thing she ever tastes.
It's not until much later does she find out why Peeta Snow reacted the way he did.
AN: Um. So, yeah, I'm trying my hand at another story, hopefully I actually finish this one. Was sort of inspired by "Super Rich Kids" and "Sweet Life" by Frank Ocean because of the way he describes the lifestyle of rich kids, who have everything they want except "real love". Next chapter is in Katniss POV.
Constructive criticism is welcome.