Just a little sonfic drabble I was thinking about while listening to Skinny Love by Bon Iver. I do not own the lyrics. Enjoy some Odesta fluff!
When the front door opens, she braces herself.
Whenever Finnick comes home, it's always only for a night. It's all they can get away with, with Snow watching their every move. And since Annie's mess of a Victory Tour six months ago, Finnick has been working double time to pick up the slack she left behind. That is, he sees to the customers that would have been hers, had she been mentally sound.
But she knows she's not crazy, only a little broken, but just enough that it can be fixed, if only for a little while, and Finnick is the only one who can do it. He can pick up the pieces and put her back together, no matter how jumbled her mind is, seeing dead tributes in her kitchen, or seeing her bed in the arena, or talking to ghosts that aren't there.
So, she has to brace herself, because she always gets some peace of mind, but her heart is always in pieces, and each time Finnick leaves, he takes one more with him. She's afraid that one day she'll run out of pieces to give and become a shell of the girl she once was, but she already is a shell. Besides, her love with Finnick knows no bounds, and she knows he could come back and leave a thousand times and take bits of her heart with him every single time, and she'd still have some of it left. And the thing is, he always leaves his heart behind with her every time, so she has that for consolation.
"I missed you," he murmurs, brushing his lips against hers and squeezing her tight.
"You too," is all she can manage.
They're urgent, like every other time, stumbling up the stairs and helping each other to peel off their layers of clothing.
Finnick can never tell her how much he loves her, how much she means to him. He can never find enough words, and he is a master of them. But Annie knows, she feels it in every touch of his hands and lips and sees it in his eyes.
They collapse on the bed, tossing aside the last of their clothing, and then they're moving together in sync, filling the air with a mixture of love and lust and passion, tender kisses and greedy touches, reveling in each other's bodies and warmth.
Annie's favorite part is when they've both come down from their highs of ecstatic bliss and just lay there, wrapped around each other and holding each other tight.
Annie leans her head on his chest and curls into his side, and he pulls her closer, kissing her forehead and tucking the blanket up around them.
They don't talk about what happens at the Capitol. They don't talk about how Finnick will go back in the morning. They don't talk about how Annie still sees dead allies and enemies in her kitchen, on her couch, by the mailbox, swimming in the ocean. Dead children follow her wherever she goes.
Finnick has his ghosts too, his own set of dead children to remember, and past horrible clients, and most of all, Snow.
But those things can't touch them when they're together. They protect each other.
Instead, they talk about the sky, the stars, childhood memories, favorite foods or animals or even strange questions, like: if you were a fish, what color would you be? If you had a pet bear, what would you name it? If you could only eat shrimp for the rest of your life, how long would you last before you decided to starve instead of eating anymore?
Annie likes these games, because they're silly. Finnick likes these games because they make Annie smile.
They'll lie there and laugh and talk and smile and kiss, which leads to touching, which leads to more lovemaking, which leads to more cuddling.
It's bliss, being in their own little world, if at least for just one night.
"One day," Finnick whispers to Annie, "in the morning, I'll be with you. And we can eat breakfast together and watch the sunrise and dare each other to run into the ocean with our clothes on. One day, we will spend the entire day together, with no worries."
Their love is a skinny love, holding on and lasting the year, but it is not brittle or broken, no, it is stronger than steel, it withstands the tests of distance and time and it is patient and kind.
When Annie wakes the next morning, his side of the bed is cold and empty, and even though she has braced herself, her heart breaks again. But she saves that piece for him so that next time, she can give it to him before he goes, just like every other time.
Finnick has already given Annie all of his heart. There are no pieces for him to shatter it into, no, it is whole and beating and it belongs only to her, and Snow can't touch it, the Capitol can't take it, and he feels better knowing it is safe with the mad girl with the broken smile and a heart as delicate and lethal as shards of glass, and he wouldn't have it any other way, and their skinny love carries on.
And one morning, when Annie wakes, he's there beside her, holding her close, and when he sees she's awake, he kisses her and says, "I told you, Ann. In the morning, I'll be with you."