Transatlanticism

(title taken from a Death Cab for Cutie song)

"You're sure?" he questions.

She pulls him close, and kisses him in the pretty sunset.

Her sand soaked feet run forward a couple of inches, and she takes him with her. "More than anything."

And as he grips her hand tightly, he looks over at her and smiles.

He remembered first meeting her across the sunset. He was fishing, she was watching, green eyes sparkling.

The thing about her that was different, he noticed, was that even when he caught her looking at him, she didn't turn away.

She was peculiar about things like that.

"Have you ever wanted to jump?" she had asked him.

He'd pursed his lips, not sure how to respond. After speculating the ground for a couple of seconds, he looked back into her unblinking eyes. He'd sighed, frustrated, and replied, "No."

She had, in return, narrowed her eyes, willing the truth. Even if he couldn't give her anything else, he could give her the truth.

Seeing her stand there, unwavering, he turned toward the sky. "We can't."

If she had narrowed her eyes anymore, they would have become slits.

"Look," he said, reaching up his hand as if to touch the stars. But, before he could, there was a light buzz, and he involuntarily snatched his fingers back. "We can't."

Her eyes were wide again, astounded. She then mirrored his movements, yelping when she was shocked as well. Letting her eyes spot over the lights down below, she had sighed, looking back up at him again.

"But have you ever wanted to?"

The first time he spoke to her was much later than that summer day.

It was on the train. He remembers only because the vessel was speeding along, blurring everything together, much like life itself.

She had been one of the tributes, and he hadn't known how to respond to that, so he'd stayed quiet.

She was a quiet person by nature, but that day, it had seemed, silence was so very loud. Much too deafening. So he had sat next to her on the train and whispered, "I'm Finnick."

"Annie," she replied, seemingly normal.

But he noticed that her eyes were duller, somehow. There was still some shimmer, but it was darker, so much darker. And it was then, he realized, that he'd give anything for her eyes to light up again. So he said, "It'll be alright, you know."

"You don't know that, Finnick."

"I'll make sure it is."

She had no incentive to place her trust in him, but she gave it to him anyways. "Okay."

And in return, he gave her his hand.

"Yes," he says. Years have passed, but nonetheless, he still remembers her question. He remembers the words pouring out of her, a sincere query, from her heart. Annie, he had long since realized, had always been a genuine person. She thought with her heart, instead of her head.

And it was her worst quality, he had long since realized, as well as her best.

But as he takes her slender fingers and entwines his own in them, he doesn't think these thoughts. All he does is gaze at the ocean. As he does this, he notes one thing. The sunset was hailed beautiful because of the sun blazing confidently against the tinges of orange and coral and pink. Yet, the small silver lining was always overlooked. It was where the water touched the sun, and yet, did not get burned.

Invincible, he whispers, and he kisses her.

And for now, that is enough.

She was far away, he had kept thinking. He was going to lose her. He was going to lose her. He was definitely, absolutely going to lose her.

And yet, with all these depressing thoughts, he had still taken notice of what she was doing in the arena. He had still favored her over the other tribute from District Four. He had still wanted her to win.

But he was going to lose her, he knew. He hadn't even let himself think otherwise. It was too painful, hope. Painful and destructive.

But he hadn't lost her. She was still with him, and he remembered one thing above all the other things that happened the day she won.

Her eyes were glittering.

"You're sure about this, Annie?"

She pulls him up from where they were seated, takes him closer to see the view from the cliff, and kisses him over the invincible ocean and the protruding sun.

Her feet were still covered in sand from the beach behind them. "More than anything, Finnick."

And as he grips her hand tightly, he looks at her, and smiles.

And then they run.

insert thoughts here: So I've been working on this for a while, and wanted it to be brilliant for my debut into the Hunger Games fandom, but I'm not really content with this. I dunno. But reviews are much appreciated and loved.

*Disclaimed.