Howdy ladies and gents, this here be my story of the secondary characters Annie and Finnick. I have a certain soft spot for the characters that weren't elaborated much on, so i thought i give it a try and see where it went. Enjoy and please review!
Cheers.
Disclaimer: I do not own these characters.
District 4 sat quiet and complacent, the unrelenting sun beating down on the already bronzed inhabitants as they swung their worn nets into the swirling sea. A small silhouette sat crouched and silent in the shade of one of the many trees that lined the shore in inconsistent patterns, rapid hands working away at a masterpiece of intertwined rope.
"Do you think you could teach me how to do that?"
The silhouette jumped and turned to see a young boy of 8 sullenly looking at the half-finished net, trails of dried tears and an angry red mark across his cheek.
"Ya, I guess so," the silhouette conceded, shifting over so the boy could sit down comfortably.
"I'm Finnick," the boy said, grasping a loose strand of rope.
"Annie." Was the silhouettes reply, her miniscule hands continuing what they were doing as Finnick looked on struggling to replicate what she was doing.
Annie smiled a slow creeping smile that drawled across her pale lips, her small feet tip toeing in silence as she prowled behind the hulking figure of her best friend. He stood at the edge of the dock silently, gazing out into the sea as he absent-mindedly played with the piece of rope he kept tied around his wrist. She crept closer, white dress billowing slightly in the salty wind and with a triumphant war cry she lunged forward, toppling both of them into the clear water below.
"Annie! What the hell!" Finnick sputtered as they both resurfaced, Annie dissolving into laughter as she caught sight of the very damp Finnick O'dair. He looked sternly at her for a second, until the traitorous smile she knew would surface gripped his cheeks and dimpled them.
"You know, most people don't want to be on my bad side," he threatened, wiggling his eyebrows. Annie giggled.
"Most people aren't me," and with that she dove, under the water swimming as fast as she could to the shore knowing that Finnick would be following closely behind. Laughing and dripping wet Annie sprinted up the sandy beach, not caring that she resembled a living dirt monster as the sand clung to her wet skin and clothes.
"Annie Cresta, you'll be sorry for that one."
Strong arms wrapped around her waist as she felt herself being tackled to the ground, swallowing half the beach in the process. She struggled futilely against the thickly muscled arms that Finnick had acquired after years of working his father's fishing boat, the smell of seaweed and salt enveloping her. Finnick chuckled deeply and released his grasp on her wrists, rolling to the side as they both clutched their sides in fading laughter, squinting through the midday sun.
Annie glanced over, wincing as she caught sight of deep purple bruise angrily living on the slope of his jawbone. Annie remembered in a flash the firs time he had come to her, a small drippy nosed boy who had been wandering the beaches for hours with the outline of his fathers hand on his cheek. Not much had changed since then, Finnick's heart was just as soft as the day they had met, though his childhood should have made him otherwise. They hardly spoke of Finnick's home life, and Annie knew only scraps more than what the general public did. Finnick's mother had died in labor, the only good outcome of that situation being the birth of Finnick himself, but to his father the death of his wife at the hands of his child was an inciting incident into the downward alcoholic spiral he had found himself in. It wasn't uncommon to find Finnick with an unsightly bruise or angry red mark adorning his beautiful face. Annie had asked him about it once or twice, always receiving the same stony-faced answer of "It's nothing" or "It doesn't concern you".
Anger shook silently inside of her, Finnick oblivious to her inner turmoil as he sighed contently while the sun dried their bodies.
"Are you scared?" He asked suddenly, and just like that, the warmth from the sun was leeched from Annie's skin and she shivered. The reaping was tomorrow, the only day of the year that she lived in fear, the only day of the year that disrupted her homely life in district 4. Annie was young still; a mere girl of twelve, and the chances of her being thrown into the hunger games were slim to none. Finnick on the other hand, had found his way into many compromising situations at the tender age of 14, which had resulted in the punishing task of adding his precious name into the forsaken bowl of reaping papers.
Annie thought about her answer carefully. For such a young age, she was an "old soul" as her parents had put it, contemplating the good and bad for each answer. She wasn't scared for herself necessarily, but Finnick's fate weighed heavily on her mind.
"I don't think so…" She answered tentatively "you?"
Finnick swallowed loudly.
"A little," he answered. Finnick was a boy of few words, but he lacked the ability to hide his emotions well. Annie sat up and looked down on his tormented face.
"You shouldn't be scared," she reasoned "there are hundreds of other kids in district 4, and a lot of them have been in trouble more times that you." Annie poked his ribs playfully, eliciting a small sad smile from him. He nodded as though she had reassured him, and he gathered himself together and stood up.
Finnick hardly looked his age; tousled golden hair landed messily over his bottle green eyes that seemed to pierce through he anything he settled his gaze on. His towering stature of just over six feet dwarfed Annie, but she knew that beneath his powerful body sat the soul of one of the kindest people she had ever met. He had few male friends at school because he lacked the heart to be able to participate in their antics. He blushed when a girl walked past, he cringed at the schoolyard fights they started, and stood thick tongued at the masculine words they spoke. No, he certainly wasn't like all the other boys at school, he was much much different.
A vicious yell carried over to them on the breeze, and Finnick flinched as he recognized his father's slurring words.
"I think I have to go, see you later Annie" was all he said, as he sprinted lithely through the sand in his bare feet towards the swaying boat his father had docked outside of their meager home. She watched him go silently, shaking some of the loose sand off of the white dress her parents had so recently bought her, thoughts of the reaping almost forgotten as she trudged home alone. Her long brown hair catching slightly in the wind as the sounds of a heated argument flowed past her, Finnick's voice calling back in defeat as the sound of an older man's words became louder and louder with aggression.