original title: muscheln und meergrüne augen
warnings: character death
beta: girl-on-sunshine
disclaimer: everything belongs to suzanne collins. i own nothing but the storyline.
author's notes: i felt like i just had to translate this story of mine. ((the german hunger games fandom is rather small . . .)) i really hope you like it!
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seashells and ocean green eyes
so that's who finnick loves.
not his fancy string of lovers in the capitol,
but a poor, mad girl back home.
– catching fire
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This is about a boy and a girl, so it's a love story, even though she's crazy and he's a murderer.
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The sea in front of her house is dark green and wildly whipped around by the storm lingering near the coast.
It's just another rainy Sunday afternoon. The thousands of raindrops pattering against her window sound like tiny drums. They're playing a song of brave sailors and red-haired mermaids.
And even though she knows better she is lured by adventure. It whispers sweet words into her ears and leads her out to the beach where the waves break on the shore and splash the sand.
Her pale toes are buried in the earth. It's cold and moist and oh so familiar.
"A beautiful day," she hears a deep voice say and it's a miracle the storm hasn't swallowed the sound.
A golden hand pushes into her view, and when it opens, it reveals a large, rainbow-colored shimmering cockle.
"For you," the boy says. He's all bronze hair and sea like eyes. And oh, she knows him, everyone knows him. He's Finnick Odair after all. He's turning every girl's head.
And he's a victor.
"Thanks," she says, sounding suddenly terribly shrill. And although his smile shines like the rising sun, she decides she will never ever fall for him.
Nevertheless, she can't help but feel ashamed for her fleeting braid and the stain on the hem of her dress.
"Annie," she states, and her tiny hand disappears completely in his. While he's repeating her name like he'd forget it otherwise, the world holds its breath. Maybe it's just her, but really, who cares?
And then, with a twinkle in his eyes, he whispers, "It was a pleasure to meet you," and goes.
(On this day, she starts to collect shells and places them on her window sill.)
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The sun is shining like a huge, blinding headlight from the sky and burns her to the scalp.
It's a terrible day and she wears one of those dresses that don't even cover her knees and are decorated with lace and sequins. It's gorgeous and everything it stands for is simply cruel.
A woman with blue skin and glittering hair pulls a piece of paper and this time the world really holds its breath. The gulls screeching in the distance, you can hear the slight breeze blowing overhead.
And she sees nothing, only his chalk-white face; hears nothing, except her name.
"Annie Cresta," this is the beginning of the end. (You're as good as dead.)
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Instead of salty ocean waves, her sleep is now accompanied by the clack of rail connections and the quiet breathing of Finnick next to her.
"You will not die," he whispers every night, but she just knows she's lost.
And if he weren't so in love with her, he wouldn't give her these false hopes. He just has to hear these words himself to be able to sleep. They help him to forget the long clawed shadows of her future, already grabbing for her.
(In these nights she learns she cannot stick to everything she proposes to do, definitely not.)
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It's just a little kiss in the elevator, before or after training, she doesn't remember. Finnick's lips, that are supposed to have caressed so many girl's mouths, are soft as silk and his breath is hot and moist.
This moment is world changing and if she'd known that before, she'd never have done it.
(Because there's so much more to lose now.)
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A peach-pink summer sky extends above the arena, everything's sparkling, lighted by the bright sun. Thousands of innocent flowers are growing around her, fragrant and brilliant in the rising sun.
This is her battlefield. In a few days, the soil will be soaked with blood and perhaps you will call her a murderer then.
(Or dead.)
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It's not like she would find allies – she's just a girl with braided hair and green eyes, who always carries an incredibly colorful shell with her – but Adrian, whom she has known since they went fishing with extra small fishing rods, comes close.
She still remembers the pink sky and the cries, the ax with which they attacked them.
Adrian looks at her with rigid, watery blue eyes. His head is kissing the hem of her pants but his body is lying somewhere else entirely.
And then the world goes crazy. Arrows fly at her like falling stars, but she runs and runs and lives, somehow.
(For now.)
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And her thoughts scream Finnick, Finnick, Finnick, there is nothing else, although there should be so much more. It is as if she would see the world through a kaleidoscope and his face breaks a thousand times in iridescent colors. It's all about him and she can't do anything but squeeze her hands over her eyes until there are only stars left behind.
If anyone saw this, they'd think she'd gone mad.
(And she has.)
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An earthquake shakes her out of her already restless sleep and drives her out of the cave in which she'd hidden for days.
The whole arena is suddenly nothing but a huge pool of blood, tears and so much water that flows continuously from somewhere.
And while she swims, swims, swims, the other tributes are flooded easily.
(Now she's also one of those victors who win nothing but horrible memories and everlasting nightmares.)
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She moves into an enormous house, right next to Finnick's. It has sea blue curtains and beautiful sandstone walls, with a flat roof and window boxes outside.
And with its many rooms it has enough window sills for all of the seashells she finds on the beach.
Sometimes she gathers them throughout the whole day and just tries to forget.
But it's never, never, never worked. Bad dreams are lying under her oh so soft pillows, waiting for her to go to sleep, to invade her dreams and show her these horrible wanting-to-be-forgotten things from her past.
(And she knows it isn't normal to wake up screaming and shielding oneself from the rest of the entire fucking world in which she can still hear Adrian's voice.)
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There are galaxies between her and the rest of the world. But Finnick is there, always. Finnick is everything.
His eyes are the ocean, his face is the world.
(And when he kisses her it seems for a moment that everything isn't so damn . . . insane.)
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When the Capitol takes Finnick away again she breaks all of her seashells, and when they come to get her, they are looking at her as if she is crazy.
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She knows this saying, The fish gets caught when it opens its mouth, and she really doesn't want to do what they tell her, so she screams and screams and goes crazier than ever, hoping she won't die.
(Some nights she hears Finnick's voice – mockingly, sweetly and endlessly desiring – and she can see him all the time, even though he's painfully far away.)
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It takes weeks, months, maybe even years - who knows - until they save her and bring her somewhere where it's at least better.
(And suddenly there are Finnick's hands and his mouth, and he whispers soothing words in her ear, holds her and takes the madness away for a tiny moment.)
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There's a golden barrette clasped into her hair and it's flowing in waves over her bare shoulders.
Violins are playing and the air is filled with a rich yet gentle melody, but maybe all that happens only in her head.
And she walks in these shoes that are not hers, into a wonderful future with her Finnick, in which they'll definitely live happily ever after.
(It doesn't matter that her dress is also borrowed, like Finnick's suit, because honestly, they are alive and in love, dammit.)
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Finnick's fingers are buried in her thick, braided hair and he's littering her face with little, ever so slightly sad kisses (but oh, they are actually heartbreakingly sad). She's pretty sure he can taste the salt of her falling tears.
"Promise you'll come back to me."
And he promises.
(Even though he probably can't keep it.)
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". . . died," the man says, his eyes sad and oh so pitiful, but it's not as if she'd see it.
All she notices is the Finnick, Finnick, Finnick in her head changing into a cried no, no, no and the world blurring into a swirl of bitter tears.
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A baby, a boy, her new everything.
He looks just like him, with eyes like the ocean and all.
(However, she doesn't call him Finn or Nick because that would be really cruel and far too unbearable.)
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He's a boy and she's a girl, so it's a love story, even though she's still crazy and he is dead.
(And she somehow feels it will never end, never.)
finite.
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author's notes: i know, cockle sounds rather stupid but in german it's something like "heart seashell".