Written in correspondence with Babyroll_Ria's heartbeats running away. Enjoy!
She caught his attention five feet away. The doors of the studio didn't have to be open for the music to waft down the corridor of the expansive building, cloying with nostalgia.
When Finnick was a boy, his mother - with her enchanting voice - would sing the tinkling cajun lullaby to help him sleep. Whether he was sick, weeping with fear or desperate for her comfort, she would sing this song to him without fail.
One step at a time he finds himself gravitating towards the sound, blind to everything in his way. Only the out stretched arm of Mags Cohen stops him in his wake. Offering him a gentle, wrinkled smile, the older woman carefully slides her hand from his bicep along with her gaze back to the flashing cameras at the front of the studio.
His breath is stolen with a gasp. Sitting in the middle of an elevated platform, behind a white baby grand piano in a cream lace dress with the dark curtains of her hair curl down around her chest while a cream hair band keeps her bangs in place.
Finnick's seen Annie Cresta all over magazines and television (why wouldn't he? She's the newest member to the Capitol Records family) looking positively heavenly but none of that compares to her beauty in person. Something about her being dressed down to simplicity is absolutely intoxicating.
From all her performances, that he's carefully watched, never until not has he realized that Annie plays with her eyes closed. Swaying gently with the tune as if it were an electrical current driving through her veins. When the photographer calls for a break, the song twinkles with a flutter of keys; her eyes remaining closed.
Venturing closer, Finnick gulps down a deep breath before opening his mouth to speak. "This is a good look on you."
Annie neither jumps nor appears surprised as her sea green eyes open. Only a smile graces her lips.
"I was wondering when heartthrob Finn Odair was going to find me. Here to snatch up my heart too?" she smiles sardonically.
Finnick blushes. He hadn't even thought of that. "No, I just...that was beautiful. I couldn't resist."
"Thank you, though will you excuse me?" Annie asks curtly, swinging her legs from the bench to stand and walk away but he blocks her path. Easily, she's practically half his height.
"Where did you learn that song?" Finnick inquires with a heavily beating heart. He has an idea but the answer still terrifies him.
"Nice to know you haven't drowned your roots just yet," Annie successfully sidesteps him, ducking under the long, muscled arm in her way and pads over to Mags who stands with the photographer reviewing the shoot. "My grandfather taught it to me when I was young. Said I had a real gift to pick it up by ear."
"M-maybe you could teach it to me sometime?" Finnick follows on her haunches, carefully trying not to clip her bare heels. Pivoting on the balls of her feet, Annie perches on her toes like a ballerina, coming eye to eye and staring at him sharply. Searching for a lie. Everyone lies in the business, especially to gain secrets. Hell, Finnick's done his fair share of it, but not now. No, he sincerely wants to learn the song that binds them both.
"Why not?" Annie says with a shrug, her voice thick and warm like a humid summer night in Louisiana. "Might be nice to teach Finn Odair something he doesn't already know."
She pats him on the chest as she falls onto the soles of her feet and glides away; his heart secure in the palm of her hand.