This was it; he was finally going to be able to see her again after her time in the arena. He knew how brutal it had been for her, having been in there himself, but he'd bet she didn't have a clue of how agonizing it had been for him on the other side as well. That had been when Finnick realized he had strong feelings for Annie, hell he loved her.
When she had been reaped, yes he had thought she was quite pretty, but that was it, he didn't dwell on it. On the train he had started to get to know her better. If he was honest, he would say it was her dark green eyes that did him in, they just looked so deep and captivating. Sure you could she was scared, nervous and anxious about all of the events but she also had a certain charm and modest confidence about her.
Finnick hadn't paid her much thought at first, as he always did with his tributes-no point in getting attached. But gradually he began talking to her more at breakfast or dinner, listenging to her talk to others with that soft voice of hers. Late at night when his nightmares wouldn't let him sleep he would go out of his room, to feel at least a bit more free, when he reached the living room at around 2:30 am there she was, sitting on a soft blue couch. They would just sit in the living room, each in their own world; then they began to talk, about home, about their hobbies, about their families, never about the Games though. It became a nightly thing: go to bed, sleep until the nightmares woke them up, and then they would walk into the living room, sit down and talk. The cycle repeated itself for the few days that Annie was there, not one day missed, not one day without nightmares.
By the night of the interview he was adamant about keeping her alive, although he just chalked it up to her being a sweet innocent girl. Little did he know that that girl would change him forever.
The night before the Games he went out of his room expecting to see her in her usual place, on the soft blue couch in front of the coffee table, but was surprised, and a bit disappointed, to find her missing.
"I wanted a change of scenery," said a quiet voice from his left. Finnick turned around and there she was propped up on a window sill, hugging her knees to her chest looking out to the street below. "How are you liking it?" Finnick asked, referring to the view.
"It's fine, but nothing to compared to the one back home," Annie answered. Finnick went and stood opposite of her on the window looking at all the flashing lights from below.
"The ocean has a certain calming effect, you can just forget about everything listening to the waves, watching the tide, smelling to salty breeze," Finnick smiled as Annie described their ocean. "And of course, there's the colors, that intense blue…kind of like your eyes," Annie smiled innocently up at him, while Finnick felt a rush of affection.
"You're something else Annie Cresta," she just smiled at him and resumed to looking out to the streets.
That was the last thing that was said that night, as they opted to staring out at the street, thinking of home and that salty ocean breeze.
Finnick smiled at the memory. Now, after the events of the Games, after seeing her so scared, suffering, traumatized, he knew her innocence and sweetness wasn't the only reason why he had been so determined to keep her alive.
Suddenly a door bursts open and there she is. They stare at each other for what feels like hours until they break and run for each other. As soon as they embrace Annie lets out a sob and there is no turning back. She feels so small and fragile in his arms, shaking and crying into his chest, that he can't bear it and just holds on strongly to her trembling body. They cling to each other, feeling like they're holding on to their love, their lives and their sanity… and to that salty ocean breeze that reminds them of home.