Katniss Everdeen. Girl on Fire.
He heard them whispering it throughout the prestine halls of the Capital Building. Murmurings here and there. Oh how he wished he could cut the tongues of anyone who whispered her name with even a hint of relish.
Unfortunately, that would probably require maiming the entire population.
Why that idiot Crane allowed them both to live, he'd never know. Especially not since Crane had been disposed of. Snow smiles maliciously, smacking his lips. Even now, days after Seneca Crane's execution, he can still taste that coppery yet slightly sweet taste of the traitor's blood on his lips. He relishes it.
This Everdeen bitch is a problem. He knows she is quickly becoming the most regarded person- no the most regarded person would be him. She is the most popular tribune of the times. His lips curl into a sneer because that is all she is, a mere tribune. She's a nobody from a pathetic district that does not even warrant a passing thought. She is less than human. Those district plebeians are all the same. Filthy. Dirty. Stupid. Insignificant. They dance like puppets, killing off each other because the Capital, no he, because He wills it.
And he wills her to be gone. Oh yes. Smothered out.
He knew from the beginning, from the moment he saw her running up to the podium to take her sister's place, she would be trouble. But oh…how could he have known the sheer mass of trouble this one small vermin of a girl would be. A bullet to the head. That's all it would take. But if he is honest with himself, and he never is, he knows that there was something about this girl that beckons him.
The crystal tumbler of liquid he has been swirling around shatters against the wall. The amber liquid slowly drips down, around the small shards of glass embedded in the wall. He watches dazed for a moment.
Did he just throw that?
But just as quickly as the thought enters his mind, it's gone. It is a mess for someone else to deal with. It is nothing a man of his status would ever bother with. Though now his empty hands tremble slightly.
He can conjure her stormy eyes so clearly in his mind. He watched them closely throughout the games. He knew that the love story was all a concoction. He recalls the bitter taste when he watched them first kiss. A mere ruse was all it was. His beady eyes narrow in distaste. No, she could never love someone so simple. She needs someone to rule over her. And that pathetic baker is weak, trailing her like a love sick dog.
For a moment his hands clench and his mind drifts off to those forbidden thoughts. Those nagging desires he wants to squash.
He wishes to dominate her.
His fingernails bite into the palms of his hands. Blood begins to well up but he doesn't register the pain. Shaking his head, he lowers his hefty frame into a plush chair. The luxourious material of the City's finest velvet comforts him. His feelings are simply because she's a lower life form who desperately needs to be put in her place. That's the only reason why he needs to dominate her, the only reason for his desire to prove his superiority.
He deludes himself.
His dark eyes drift to a report on his desk. A picture of a young man, filthy from the coal mines stares back emptily at him. Snow's snakelike lips curve into what could be called a smile. Sinister thoughts begin to form. A plan slowly takes shape. This boy would be the key to her downfall.
Soon enough, he'd see the girl on fire burnt to the ground.