A/N: Heya guys, this is my first time publishing something on here. Figured it was time ^^"
Hope you enjoyed this little one-shot of Finnick and my OC Lyona Terra. I might be thinking of turning this into a full-out story following the storyline of The Hunger Games, but that idea is still currently in the works. If I do, then the story probably won't be a light and fluffy one :s
Update 15/6/16: I'm going to be turning this into a full-out story :) I'm not sure where Lyona and Finnick are going to end up, but I have a vague idea it's not going to be an easy journey u.u
Stay tuned
Fandom: The Hunger Games
Pairing: Finnick Odair/Lyona Terra (OC)
Summary: Lyona Terra is the victor of the 69th Hunger Game and Finnick Odair's best friend. The Capital wants her.
Her Honor
"Please, Finnick."
The man before her shakes his head, the strands of his beach-blonde hair falls across his face. "Lyona, I-I can't." He turns away from her, cradling his face in the palm of his calloused hands. No matter how much Finnick wants to deny this, he couldn't. Not when she's sitting there, right beside him, tense and trying so hard to stay strong. It was always a possibility, ever since she was reaped for the 69th Hunger Game, ever since he made her promise to try and win, no matter what. But, it was only a possibility so long as she came out as the victor, the moment he realizes how much the Capital loves her, his heart was torn to shreds thinking of her promise to him.
Lyona Terra has never broken a promise to him. Never.
When she was announced as the victor of the 69th Hunger Game, he was torn between feeling relief that his best friend survived and slight trepidation, enough to wish that she didn't, wanting to save her from his fate. He cursed himself when he dared to wish her dead when he so clearly knew he can't live without her. So here she is, mere months after the bloodbath, merciful kills and haunting nightmares and just shy of 16.
The Capital's greedy for her, just as much as they are for him.
He's pulled out from his self-loathing by a worn pair of hands, hands that held him when he first broke down after the games, hands that brought him comfort; hands, despite being tainted, grounded him. The raven-haired beauty gently coaxed him to meet her hazel honey eyes. God, her eyes, they are the most stunning thing he has ever seen. Even more exquisite than the beaches of District 4, and that's saying something. They are the colors of pebbles he would find on the beaches; soft crisp browns, expanding out into shades of ocean blues and greens beneath an overcast sky. The mysterious depths of the ocean rim the outer edges. Her eyes were the color of District 4 but are reminiscent of her home, District 10. The ocean mixing with autumn. Combine with her gentle oriental features and ivory skin; she's a soothing balm to his soul. The 65th Hunger Game victor can see the faint glimmer of hope within those hazel-blue eyes, fluttering in between existence.
"The Capital took something away from the both of us when we entered the Games," her voice croak, eyes mist over, "no matter how much we deny it, no matter how much we hate it, they own a part of us." Lyona lets out a scornful chuckle, "Ever since I was reaped for the game, ever since I was announced a victor, I felt like… like I'm missing a part of myself. As though a part of me never left the arena when I won, and I don't think I'll ever get that part of me back.
"Winning the Game gave Snow control over you, over me, but I—" she let out a breathy sigh, "I can't— I won't let him take this away from me. It's mine and mine alone to give. Not his."
There's a frog at the back of Finnick's throat, heart clenching, and churning. He cups her face with his hands, pulling her close to rest his forehead against her. The warmth scent of summer days and metallic, musky iron fills the crevices of his mind. No amount of Capital pampering will ever get rid of the scent that clouded his mind ever since he first met her. The little girl with obsidian hair and a shy smile.
"I'm the Capital's Golden Boy, their Darling," he spat, "you hand this over to me, you're essentially giving yourself o0ver to them! How—" his voice wavers as apprehension sets in, his muted green eyes peered into hers. "How can you even consider me?" he asks bitterly, "how are you not disgusted with me? Why are you still by my side—"
"Because I don't see the Capital's Golden Boy when I look at you." She cuts him off; hazel-ocean eyes piercing his. "I don't see their Darling or ever felt disgust when I look at you." Lyona's thumb caresses the apple of his cheeks. Finnick's hands left her face and rests on her hips, arms wrap firmly around her waist. She inhales sharply. Their breath mingles, as space became almost non-existence between the pair. "I see Finnick Odair. My Finn; the boy whom I use to sneak out of District 10 just to meet. The charming, brilliant boy who taught me how to swim, weave a net and wield his trident." The pair chuckles softly at the unintentional innuendo. "He grew up to be an amazing person, who did everything he had to do in order to survive the Game, to come back to me, just because I asked." The raven-haired vision melts into his arms. "I see him, this amazing, brilliant guy with forest-green eyes and a big heart, his arms always wrapped around me, keeping me safe. He does everything he can to protect me, even now. But, there are some things out there you just can't keep me safe from… So I'm asking, as your Lena to my Finn…"
How… how did he get so lucky? To have someone like her by his side… how— How could he not want to protect her, how could he abandon her when she needs him the most? His Lena, his raven-haired-hazel-ocean-eyed lucky charm who is an intricate part of his life.
He slams his lips into hers. The touch of her lips obliterates every single thought. For the first time in a long time, Finnick's in control of his actions. He chose to do this. He chose to kiss her. He wants to kiss her. He dances his tongue to the seam of her lips, without hesitation Lena grants him access and he delves in. His taste buds explode with her flavor; he deepens the kiss hungrily wanting more. Her tongue shyly reaches out to play with his causing him to groan lowly. Oh, how long had he entertained the idea of kissing her? How long had he seen her in a different light and something more than a best friend? He has no idea when those feelings manifested, he just realized it one day, having tea with Mags when he realized he loves her. This isn't a client in his arms, whose touches would make him shiver in revulsion and utter abhorrence. This isn't someone Snow whored him out to. This isn't a fuck. This is what he wants, longs for. He has no intention of losing contact with her lips. Intoxicated by her, driven by the desire to touch her, to move his hands underneath her summer dress and feel her perfect softness. In moments, their touch became more frantic, he savors the quickening of her breath and salacious moans that match his own.
A kiss like this was a beginning, a promise for the future ahead.