A/N: I only own my characters. Which in this chapter is Savera.

NON CONSENSUAL TOUCHING IN THIS CHAPTER. Brief, but a pretty intense glimpse into President Snow's inner world. I just read the Ballad of Snakes and Songbirds and have been inspired to add some more memories Savera has of President Snow. Has anyone else read BoSS?

Also, I've fully edited and re-posted Chapter 3 of this story if anyone is re-reading.

This memory gives me chills every time I recall it. It's more of a scar in my memory, but to fully understand the oppression we experienced under President Snow, it must be told.

President Snow sent a message to my team ten minutes earlier, requesting my immediate presence, and I immediately came to his residence, leaving the intelligence center in the capable hands of my team.

Upon walking into his office, I saw him seated at his large, wooden desk. Today, he was wearing a blue coat with strong, structured shoulder pads.

The thing about President Snow was that we were always being manipulated by him. No matter how benevolent he behaved one day or how happy he appeared to be to see us, I always went into any meetings with him reminding myself that he was in control of this interaction. I never showed much emotion to him, but this was one day that I knew was completely different and out of character for me.

He looked up from the papers in front of him on his desk and smiled at me," Savera. Delighted to see you."

He gestured for me to take a seat in the leather seat across from him. I returned his smile and took a seat. Behind us, I could see the rose garden. Roses. The symbol of his power; the symbol of his presence. I held my gaze on the roses for as long as I could if it meant I didn't have to look at him.

"I'm glad you're here with me today," He said, looking directly at me.

I pulled my gaze away from the roses and looked at him," Of course. What is it you'd like to discuss today, President Snow?"

"I'd just like to check in," He said simply. "It's been awhile since we've talked. Just the two of us."

I remembered the first time I had met with him alone after the Games. He had threatened me with either choosing the incredibly stressful position of being the director of Intelligence or Prostitution. I hadn't forgotten.

"You're correct. Life has been busy," I commented simply.

He smiled," Indeed. May I see that wedding ring?"

I looked down at the golden band on my hand before offering my hand to him. His touch on my skin was icy and I wanted to recoil, but I stayed still.

"Simply stunning," He murmured after admiring for several moments silently. "Seneca chose a good one."

He held my eye contact for longer than I wanted.

"And how is married life treating you?" He asked.

My relationship with Seneca would always be complicated. He understood me in ways that no one else in the Capitol did, but he was still Capitol and I was still from the Districts. There would always be something between us because of this. And there would always be a part of our relationship that I hadn't ever consented to. I was married to him because I wanted to be married to him, but I also hadn't had much of a choice in the matter.

"Well," I said simply.

"Ah, yes?" He raised a brow. "It does appear that way."

A screen appeared in front of us. It was being projected from a little device on President Snow's desk. At first, it was a replay of the media's coverage of Seneca and I's relationship. The interview with Caesar where we first went public with our relationship, then our first interview as a married couple. Our first appearances at various parties and events at the Capitol. The memories were pleasant to relive. A smile came to my face watching them, but I was suspicious of where this was going. The next shot was of the night Seneca and I had gone to the same party. Enobaria had given me the keys to my own apartment and told me that she didn't care what I did. And on the screen, every moment from the party came into view. President Snow stood as this clip started.

From Seneca and I's conversation at the bar to our escape to the room with the green light out front. My heart sank as I realized that he had seen everything. I closed my eyes briefly, wishing that this wasn't true and feeling incredibly embarrassed at the sight of myself naked on the screen. I shifted in my seat uncomfortably as the footage cut to scenes from later that evening when Seneca had returned to my apartment with me.

He had watched everything? Seen every intimate moment of our relationship?

As the footage continued showing graphic footage of my husband and I's intimate life, I looked at Snow. He wanted me to feel uncomfortable. He wanted to break me and make me feel weak. I shot daggers with my eyes and held my forehead in my hand, trying to rub out the embarrassment.

He paced closer to me; I could smell the roses as he came behind me.

"The audio from your residence has been...tampered with unfortunately so we can't have the full experience here," He said softly, placing a hand on my shoulder as the scene cut to Seneca and I's bedroom.

I remember having found a bug in that room before. The scene of me finding the bug and destroying it appeared on the screen. I watched myself turn off the bug and as the scene appeared, Snow placed a hand on my shoulder from behind me. My stomach churned at the touch of his skin on mine and started trembling.

The scene paused. I watched myself cutting off his line of communication to our private residence and I felt proud of myself. Proud that I stood up for us. Our privacy. Our intimacy. Even if he had access to all the video, I didn't regret this moment even though I knew I was about to be punished.

His fingers unbuttoned the top of my blouse and I sat frozen. This hadn't been the first time that a Capitol citizen had treated me this way and I was sadly certain it wouldn't be the last. As I felt the cool air kiss my skin and goose bumps appear on my skin, I decided to try to appeal to his humanity one last time.

"Have you ever loved, President Snow?"

He softly pulled my top down so that I was sitting in his office in just the pencil skirt I had worn to the office and a bra. His finger traced my spine before pausing and coming back around to look me in the eye as he sat on the edge of his desk.

"Yes," He said shortly, looking directly into my eyes.

"You told me to marry him," I said softly. "I don't understand-"

"I told you to manipulate him," He cut in sharply, raising his voice. "There's a difference."

"Aren't love and manipulation one in the same? Didn't you tell me that?"

He smirked,"You misremember my words. Love is powerful. A powerful tool with which you can manipulate someone to do whatever you'd like. If you convince someone that you love them, they will be like putty in your hand. I told you to make Seneca fall in love with you so that you could manipulate him. His job is the most fragile and important in Panem and I must know how he conducts it. But the footage I've seen thus far makes me think that I am the one being manipulated by the two of you. And I will not have that."

Every intimate moment Seneca and I had shared appeared on the screen and I looked up at the ceiling, trying to avoid his gaze. If I could just think of Seneca and I's life together and keep the happiness and joy it had brought me, then he couldn't discover the truth. He was right, in a way. He pulled my chair closer to him with his foot until we were face to face. He grabbed my jaw tight and forced me to look him in his eyes.

"When I was in love, Ms. Crane, it was the most foolish thing I ever subjected myself to," He hissed, digging his nails into my jaw. "I wasn't myself and determined I would never love someone I actually liked again. When I watched your Games, I knew that you were intelligent and cunning and capable of a wonderful career here in the Capitol. Love, to you, should be a tool that you wield to gain power and manipulate because I see so much potential in you. Don't be a fool in love."

I felt a cool blade pressed against the middle of my chest. It was a small blade that he had slid out of his sleeve. Without hesitating, he cut down, ripping my bra in two and dropping it on the ground. Again, I tried to break his eye contact as his grip on my jaw loosened and his hand moved to explore my chest. I was still trembling, absolutely terrified by what was coming next.

"Absolutely beautiful," He muttered, running his thumb over my nipple. Briefly, he placed the blade on the desk and grabbed my jaw again to make sure I was watching the screen. Seneca and I were curled up on our bed; his hand in the same place as President Snow's currently. It was a sick perversion of an intimate moment between my husband and I, but that didn't stop him.

He massaged my chest in sync with the video, trying to get a response from me. I shifted in my seat as my body responded to being touched this intimately. I kept my eyes on the screen, not because I wanted to, but because President Snow had grabbed the knife off his desk again and quickly traced my left breast with the blade. Again, chills ran down my spine.

"Such a pity," He murmured before quickly slicing across my breast, sparing no part of the skin.

I wailed. I hadn't felt such searing pain in many years. In fact, the pain rivaled that which I felt in the Games. Tears immediately filled my eyes and when I tried to move my arm to tend to my wound. He restrained me.

"Allow me," He bent down, following the thin trail of blood from my breast to my abdomen. With his tongue, he licked the trail from my breast to my hip. He probably wanted to send the message that he was trying to help clean up the mess, but obviously the delivery was also abusive and manipulative. What better way for him to deliver a lesson about using intimacy to manipulate?

I bit down on my lip hard as pain continued to sear through my body. Luckily, the cut wasn't super deep, but deep enough to get his message across. When he was done with his descent, he stood up and opened a drawer of his desk. He pulled a small handkerchief from the top drawer and placed it in front of me. He clicked off the screen beside us and looked at me once more," I hope I've made myself perfectly clear. I expect more detailed reports starting next week about Seneca's every move and private comment he makes to you."

He turned and left me alone, half naked in his office. I picked up the handkerchief with his initials on it and continued to tend to my wound.

Every intimate moment with my husband from here on out would be plagued by this physical reminder of the intimidation, fear, and absolute power President Snow had over our relationship.

A/N: Leave a review, if you can! Pretty intense, I know. :)