The nightmares were back again. Annie wrestled against the invisible demons of tributes long dead. She howled bone—chilling shrieks into the night, her sweaty body tangled beneath the sheets. Two pair of surprisingly strong arms grabbed her hands to prevent her from harming herself, but inside her head, they were the arms of someone who was trying to kill her. She let out a piercing scream that echoed in every wall of the old beach house and finally woke up.
—¿Finnick?—she gasped, trying to focus her hazel eyes on the face hovering over her. As her sight cleared she realised it was a much feminine, aged face, smiling comfortingly at her while white locks fell around her. Of course, Mags. Finnick's in the Capitol. He won't be back for a long time.
Gasping for breath the tiny brunette attached herself to the elder woman, seeking solace with desperation. Mags held her tight, rocking her back and forth and humming and old fisher lullaby. As comforting as it could be…it wasn't the same as being held by Finnick. Mags was a dear old woman. But Finnick was Annie's hero.
By morning, Annie couldn't remember what had haunted her dreams at night, but she was thankful for it. Every time away from the strange fits that harassed her mind without warning was a victory for her, bigger than winning the Hunger Games. She couldn't be left alone though. Because they were still there. Since she had no family, no friends, no mental stability, Mags and Finnick had taken her in. They were alone in the world too, and lived together in what could be described like a grandmother—grandson relationship. The first time she had had a panic attack back at the Capitol, Finnick had locked her in a hug not even President Snow would've been able to penetrate or brake, looked up at Mags and said with the most determinate tone he'd ever used on someone: "She'd coming with us. Im not leaving her".
Annie was embarrassed to be taken cared of like a helpless child. If only she could find a way to get a grip on her mind by her own means.
At least, today promised to be nice, despite her usual loneliness. Not because it was Valentine's Day; that meant little to Annie, who's one true valentine was far away from her reach, not only physically, but mentally. But the weather was promising. As she climbed up the rocks of the beach, her wild hair played with the salty breeze. Annie stuck out her tongue to taste the sea in the air. Laughing like a child, she leaped over a rock and bended over to see a couple of sea otters playing lazily on the surface of the water, cracking oysters over their bellies. Otters didn't need Valentine's, they loved each other with the same intensity ever day of the year.
Sometimes, Annie wondered if things between her and Finnick would've been different, hadn't she been reaped for the Hunger Games. If something hadn't snapped inside her head, could it be possible he'd be able to see her as something else than a broken puppy he had to take care off? A broken toy kept for pity? Annie wasn't sure if it was true, but in the Capitol they'd said she was pretty. Maybe not as pretty as the exuberant women hanging from Finnick's arm every different hour there; but pretty like a little mermaid.
"Stupid girl. He would've never laid eyes upon you if you hadn't been reaped". Annie sighted. Ever since the Games, very obvious details seemed to slip away from her. It made her feel stupid. Dim—witted. It hadn't been like that before. She'd been shy, but clever. They told her she still was, but Annie doubted their words. Lately, everyone in the district eyed her with pity and shame. Everything they said felt empty.
She laughed when one of the otters sank the other playfully. She saw them dance beneath the surface of the water, circling round and round with no signs of getting bored. They came out for air and played cheerfully with their paws, patting each other's noses. She giggled when one of them sneezed. The mate licked the other's face. Annie sighted and smiled. Sea otters were heads—down her favourite animals.
She heard a tingling noise at her back and then a rope closed around her throat. She gasped and turned, trying to defend herself as best as she could. But there was no attacker nor rope to be tied around to choke her. Instead, she crashed against those most beautiful sea green eyes she always found peace in.
—Finnick!—she cried out in delight and surprise as the man sat beside her. He smirked at her tenderly.
—Hello, Annie—he greeted her with that joking formal tone that made her smile every time.
—I thought you were staying at the Capitol! What about all of your admirers?—she blinked, blushing with joy.
Finnick flashed the million—dollar smile that made everyone swoon in the Capitol, but with her, the smile was actually a real one.
—Nah. I'd rather spend Valentine's with my favourite girl—he leaned over and placed a sweet kiss on her cheek, wich turned an even darker shade of pink. Finnick always said those kinds of things to her, and although he was clearly joking, Annie couldn't help the fact that her heart wished to leap out of her chest. She forced it to calm down. Finnick cared for her more than anyone else had ever done in her entire life, but she still was poor Annie—gone—mad. It wasn't that she victimized herself, but it was quite improbable Finnick would actually consider a half—crazy girl as something different from a little sister, or an innocent friend. Sometimes that idea pained Annie, but she would rather have Finnick's friendship, or whatever it was, than nothing of him at all. If it wasn't for him, she'd never felt away from the arena at all.
Pulling a lose strand of her messy hair blown by the wind behind her ear, she smiled transparently at him and then pointed to the water beneath them.
—Look! The otters are back! Remember how we hadn't sighted them for days before you left?—.
Finnick's eyes moved just an instance to the otters before focusing back on Annie's sweet featured profile.
—Ha! I suspected it. It's why I knew I'd found you here—his tone was gentle, loving. It made Annie feel at peace. She wiggled her toes inside the water.
—How I wish I could be one of them—she muttered longingly. Finnick understood what she meant. Capitol—free, Games—free, just floating on the water beneath the sun…it did sound like quite a life. He slipped a taunted arm around the girl's skinny shoulders and pulled her to his side before she went down the dark path again.
—Hey—he said cheerfully—How do you like the necklace I got for you?—.
Annie blinked and only then did she remember the rope around her neck. Actually, it was a beautiful hand—made necklace of small white sea—shells. She pulled it in her hand to get a better look and smiled widely. No one would expect a man so deadly could actually made things so beautiful with the same hand he used to wield his trident. There was a lot more to Finnick Odair that only she and Mags could fully comprehend. It was another of the things about the copper—haired victor that made Annie feel special.
—It's beautiful, Finnick—she breathed sincerely, smiling struck by sudden shyness—Thank you—.
Her feelings for him confused her. Sometimes she thought she loved him. Others, she wasn't sure what the funny tingling in her fingers and toes whenever he was near meant. It was hard to determinate if it was really love or just simple adoration. It was hard for her to think hard on the limits. She guessed it was because of her "mentally disorientated" diagnosis (according to the Capitol experts, of course). Annie sighted internally. Valentine's Day was making her think particular hard on those ideas lately. It only made her get frustrated with herself for not been able to sort out anything inside her head.
—I knew you'd like it—the man stood up and offered her a big hand she gladly accepted. Once she was on her feet, Finnick began climbing away from the rocks, and she followed him curiously.
—Where are we going? What are we doing?—.
He smirked over his shoulder.
—Ever gone surfing, Annie?—.
Surfing turned out not to be one of Annie's strengths. She spent more time falling off the board than gliding with it, but she didn't mind, because she spent even more time laughing while she choked with salty water. They'd been trying all day and Finnick wouldn't stop commenting how he'd never met someone as unbalanced at her, but every time he did so, he was smiling sweetly and helping her on the board again. This time, she flinched when she felt his warm body at her back. The board sank slightly with his weight.
—We'll try this way—Finnick's voice whispered close to her ear. He had a wonderful voice that somehow managed to sooth and thrill Annie at the same time. Like hearing the ocean through a sea—shell.
Finnick looked over his shoulder—Okay, listen. Here's comes a good one. Let's start paddling. Stan up when I tell you—.
—But I'll just fall all over again—.
Finnick smirked, the sinking sunshine made the drops of his face glimmer like diamonds and his hair shine like polished copper—Trust me. I won't let that happen—.
The girl breathed in deeply, leaned over the board and started paddling with her hands. Finnick imitated her with perfect synchronization. Her eyes where fixed in the shoreline with concentration. She tried not to panic when the water started rising on the building wave behind them.
—ANNIE!—Finnick shouted to make himself heard over the roaring of the wave closing over them—STAND UP!—.
—BUT—
—TRUST ME!—.
The man's hands closed around Annie's wrists and pulled her up slowly. Annie's knees quivered so bad they were about to snap against each other. She tried to keep her feet firm over the slippery surface of the board. Finnick's fingers locked around hers and he helped her straighten up from her half—bend position.
—It's okay, Annie—his breath tickled her ear lobe—I've got you. Look. You're surfing—.
Annie dared to look away from her feet and blinked to shake off the droplets caught in her eyelashes. She felt breathless. They were soaring across the water, gliding over the wave like a king and queen. She could feel the immense power of the sea beneath the board. The idea of being somewhat in control of such force made her scream in delight. She even dared to let go of one of Finnick's hands and through a punch in the air, claiming her victory.
—WOOOOOHOOO!—.
Finnick joined her cheering, holding her tightly; not letting her fall.
They could the foam from the crest of the wave out of the corner of their eyes now. A blue ceiling of roaring water shadowed over them. They were inside the tube of the wave, isolated from the rest world. It was cold. It was loud. It was amazing. Gently, Finnick outstretched one of their intertwined hands and sank the tips of their fingers inside the wall to their left. Their fingers left a slim, foamy trail in the water. The gravity of the wave made Annie's finger tingle. The warmth of Finnick's palm against the back of her hand did so too.
When they came out of the water tunnel, they jumped into the water just before the wave crashed between them, plunging into the sea with shouts of joy. Annie opened her eyes, surrounded by blue, and smiled at Finnick in front of her, a trail of silvery bubbles escaping her lips. Her eyes glimmered, and despite the blurry vision under water, Finnick managed to notice and smile. The ocean seemed to stop moving around them, and they sat suspended in the water, staring at each other until the seas could dry out. Finnick reached out and to Annie's surprise, grabbed her hand again and pulled her closer. He cupped her cheek, pulling apart the strands of her hair floating around her face and offered her the warmest smile she'd ever seen. He leaned towards her face.
Whatever his intentions had been, Annie never knew, because at that moment her lungs started begging for air and her body instantly swam to the surface. She breathed in deeply beneath the sunrise, gasping for the air she hadn't realised she needed so bad until now. Beside her, Finnick's copper head popped out between the waves and smiled. He didn't seem disappointed.
—C'mon, little mermaid. You're lips are so purple they seem almoust blue—he chipped light—heartedly. They swam towards the board floating a few meters away and drifted off to the shore. Finnick sunk the surfing board in the sand and then wrapped Annie tenderly with a towel.
—What about you?—she muttered, sinking her face in the comforting dry warmth of the cloth. Finnick shuddered, hands over his narrow hip—bones and smile.
—Im more of a dry—with—the—air sort of person—he replied—How about we go and see if your little furry friends are still out there?—.
They climbed back to their previous spot in the rocks. The sun was sinking lower and lower in the horizon. The towel still wrapped around her, Annie dared to nuzzle closer to Finnick's side. He wrapped his arm around her shoulders.
The otters were sleeping, floating on their backs and holding each other's paws. The couple looked so sweet and innocent. It made Annie wish she was one of them.
—That's a pair, isn't it?—said Finnick beside her—Look at those two. Nothing in the world could tear them apart—he pointed at the smallest of the otters—That's you. And the bigger one over there is me—Annie looked at him, wondering if he was messing around with her. Was he aware how much those words meant to her?
—We are?—she asked, confusion playing over her girly features.
—Aye—Finnick smiled with those breath—taking green eyes of his—Cause Im not letting anything in the world tear us apart, Annie. Ever—he grabbed her hand then, and the movement caught her so much by surprise and made her so nervous, that she pulled back and accidently fell into the water, painfully scraping her thighs against the rocks.
—ANNIE!—.
Before she knew it, Finnick had his arm around her waist and was pulling her out of the water before she had time to realise her situation, like a child who didn't know how to swim at all. It infuriated her and she fought her way out of his grip.
—Let go of me!—.
—Annie?—Finnick turned and stared with a puzzled expression. The brunette saw, clear as daylight, the fear in his eyes. Fear that she had gone into another one of her crisis. It made her even more frustrated her. Why couldn't anyone look at her like something else than a bird with a broken—wing? She couldn't even be angry without someone thinking she'd gone all crazy again.
—Im fine—she snapped swimming further away from him. She got a grip on the rocks and pushed herself up, fishing the wet towel before it sank—Im fine—she repeated, her hazel eyes cold and hard over the startled Finnick still floating at her feet—Im from here too, remember? I know how to swim—.
—Annie I—I didn't mean to offend you. I though—
—I'll tell you what you thought. You thought I was a poor helpless little girl, unable to defend herself, unable to even fall into the water without breaking a bone. God forbid it if Im left to handle myself on my own. Oh, no. You think I need to be supervised and assisted in everything I do. You, like everyone else in Panem, think Im a hopeless case that will never be able to act by herself again. Well, guess what, Finnick. I did win the Hunger Games, crazy and everything, and I can assure you I didn't need anyone's help to swim when that dam broke and flooded the arena. If I managed to come out alive from that place all on my own, I think I can handle falling into the water without the need of anyone rushing to recue me—.
She hadn't meant to unleash everything on to him, but once the words had started pouring she found herself unable to keep her mouth shut. By the end of her little speech, Annie was already pale with guilt. She eyed Finnick uncertainly, waiting for his response. She feared that she'd hurt his feelings and he would decide to eventually leave her all on her own.
Finnick looked at her with bewilderment, perhaps wondering if he'd actually heard her right. His muscular chest expanded when he breathed in deeply.
—You're right—.
It was Annie's turn to wonder whether if she'd heard him right. She felt her eyes nearly pop out of their sockets, and her lips trembled, trying to find something to say, but all she managed to stutter was:
—I…what?—.
—You're right—Finnick sighted again. He climbed out of the water and sat beside her, though there was no familiarity this time. Annie hugged her knees to her chest—I've been treating you like a porcelain door. Im so afraid you'll break with a single touch of the wind—he reached out slowly and gently traced her cheekbone before she could pull away. Annie's eyes widened with emotion—And I—he went on—I keep forgetting you're nothing like that. You…you're a fighter—.
His words made her uncomfortable. Suddenly, all her rude bravado had been washed away with the turn of the tide. She blushed and lowered her eyelashes.
—I…well—she struggled to find the right words, and cursed her constant overwhelmed mind clouding her thoughts—I didn't mean…I…I do need…I do aprecciate everything you and Mags do for me. But I...It's just that…—she trailed off, pouting frustrated.
She wasn't aware of it, of course, but Finnick loved it when she pouted. He smiled fondly at her. All he wanted was to take care of that delicate, vulnerable little fighter.
—I understand, Annie. I really do. I…I promised I'll give you a chance to manage things by yourself when you can—.
His words managed to crack a smile on the girl's troubled face and clear away the fog inside her. She giggled and without warning, pushed him to the water. Finnick waved his arms around like a seagull about to take fly and crumbled into the water like a falling building, causing her to break into a fit of hysterics. The Golden Boy crooked a coppery eyebrow at her, grabbed her slim ankle and pulled her down on top of him. Annie yelped and the salty water got inside her mouth while she laughed.
Their splashing shooed the otters off to the rocks, were they sat somewhat offended; observing with their tilted heads at those strange hairless creatures messing around like cubs in the water.
They finally made their way back to the old beach house under the light of a full moon hanging low over the ocean. Finnick slipped his hand gently between Annie's fingers. She was quite used to it; he usually did that. Annie dared to think it was because they were very close, but she had no illusions that it meant anything else. Finnick was affectionate with her by nature.
—Best Valentine's date I've ever had—.
Annie jumped when he spoke. She'd been lost in thought; wishing to get inside soon because her hair was still wet and she was cold. Bedside's, she wasn't sure what he meant. She stopped dead on her tracks, just outside the door.
—What? A date?—she asked, puzzled.
Finnick stopped beside her with an equally confused expression.
—Why, of course, Annie. What do you think that was?—.
She parted her lips, but no answer came out because she didn't have a clue of what to say. She merely stared at him like a fish out of the water, wondering if the world had gone upside down, or if she'd bumped her head against the rocks. She rubbed her eyes and blinked at him, unable to find something eloquent to say. Finnick, Capitol favourite; Finnick, reincarnation of Poseidon; Finnick the Great; Finnick, the Panem—wide wonder. In a date? With her? As cliché as her thoughts sounded, could there be any other way to say it?
—Finnick…I…I don't understand…you…we…—she trailer off again.
The young man stepped closer, nearly towering over Annie, and he held his hand against her cheek, resting his forehead over hers. He was so close, Annie could make out every single detail of his ever green eyes crowned with coppery—blond eyelashes; despite de faint light. She stood very still, almoust holding her breath, her heart hammering in her hand.
—Annie—he whispered, with a voice as sweet as those sugar—cubes he so much liked to eat—Your innocence, your naivety, makes you the most exquisite and adorable creature I've ever seen in my life, but could you possibly be as blind as to not see my feelings for you? I've been nothing but obvious all this time—.
Annie's breath caught in her throat, blocking any sort of answer. All the long walks on the beach, the sea—shells and little treasures he offered her here and there, the hugs, the smiles, the hands locked together, the apparently jokingly flirtatious comments…Was Finnick saying they'd actually meant something? That they'd been real?
—Me?—she finally managed to say in not so much as whisper—You have feelings for me? But Finnick…that...that doesn't make any sense—she tried to regain her normal breathing rhythm.
The handsome victor smiled softly.
—It doesn't have to. Feelings are irrational, and love is the most irrational of all, because it doesn't make any sense, but it can be so right—.
—Love?—.
—Yes, Ann. What other feelings could I be talking about?—.
—Friendship?—she ventured, trembling like a breeze. Finnick chuckled and kissed the tip of her nose.
—No, silly. Never. Believe me, what I feel is much, much stronger than that—.
For me? Annie still believed he was joking.
—Finnick…I…Im just…I mean…I am very…troublesome. I…—she lowered her tone even more and muttered, full of shame—Im not normal…—.
—Normal? Annie, such thing doesn't exist. Have you seen the girls at the Capitol? The ones Im forced to hang around with? One of them has pink wings, Annie. She actually has pink wings. Is that normal? Or all the girls in town who would actually volunteer as tribute to their deaths? Is that normal?—he cupped her face gently—Is being scared unusual? Annie, there's nothing wrong with you!—.
—Finnick, I start seeing dead tributes in the middle of the street in town—she said matter of factly, much to her own surprise. She'd sounded almoust as…as she used to be before the Hunger Games. She shrugged at the idea and pushed it away before one thing led to another.
—Annie—he murmured, as sweet as sunshine—There's nothing wrong inside you. It's okay to be scared, and it's completely natural to be broken. Everybody's a little broken inside. You…you are smart enough to know it. And I…—he sighted—Annie, Im a wrecked mess. The Games harmed be in ways Im not even sure of. But I…—he took her hands in his, warming her palms with his affection—I simply adore the patched up look in your eyes. It makes you human. It makes you a fighter—.
Annie blushed when his fingers pulled a strand of her hair behind her ear, brushing her skin gently. He continued talking:
—I really like the idea of two half—broken toys mending each other. And I want to be that half to you—.
Annie would've said she'd dreamed with this moment since the day she'd crossed her first words with Finnick, but that would be a lie. In truth, she'd never dared to feed those secret hoped inside her, for fear of making a fool of her own heart. But that had no kept the feelings from growing on their own, and when the man in front of her, that unexpected valentine that had come from the sea, said those words to her, her feelings where threatening to burst out. Desperate to do something, she tried opening her mouth, but found she had no words. That she never had any words at the right occasions. But she still had actions.
She'd one the Hunger Games. This couldn't be any worse, could it?
She stood on her tip—toes to kiss him. Her lips had not so much as graced Finnick's before he was pulling her into a tight embrace, and a kiss as deep as the ocean. It was salty, their lips slightly irritated after hours at sea. He crashed against her; kissed her like the wave kissed the sand. He mangled one of his hands in her humid hair, the other holding the small of her back. Annie held his face shyly, running the tip of her thumps across the cheeks lightly covered by a very young stubble.
Finnick was a Golden Boy. But he wasn't made of gold. He was human. Broken. Driven by his own heart, just like her.
When they finally parted, Anny was a whirl of emotions, but for once, not a single one of them was bad. She blushed lightly and then smiled struck by shyness, eyeing Finnick through her thick eyelashes. He chuckled without a word and kissed her forehead protectively.
—Come—he said, after sweetly kissing her again—Let's get you dry before you catch something—.
Mags wasn't at all amused when they entered the house holding hands. She merely smiled a toothless grin and then dragged Finnick to the kitchen, probably hoping he could open some jar for her so she could carry on making dinner.
Dinner was nothing out of ordinary. Finnick did most of the talking, while Mags laughed and smiled at his stories, and Annie ate in silence, sometimes giggling at his words. There was, however, the fact that this time, Finnick held Annie's hand throughout the entire meal, running his thumb tenderly across her knuckles.
The usual exhaustion after a day at the beach pushed Annie to cuddle in bed soon after. As usual, a quiet look in Finnick's direction was all he needed to call it a night, kiss Mags on the cheek and follow Annie upstairs. Every time he was home, he would cuddle with the girl whenever she asked him to help her sleep peacefully. He slipped under the covers behind her and held her tight, wrapping his arms around her waist and kissing the outline of her ear.
—You will stay with me all night?—Annie dared to whisper, seeking his hand to hold in the dark. She could feel Finnick smile into her hair, while he intertwined his long fingers with hers.
—Of course I will, Annie—he said quietly, his voice deep and silky— I'll be holding you all the time. Just like the otters—.
She looked at him over his shoulder, frowning her nose slightly in a gesture Finnick considered simply and adorably heart—melting.
—Like the otters?—she repeated, not sure of what he meant by that.
She saw him smile. Not like Finnick the victor. Not like Finnick the charmer. Not even like Finnick the protector. Just like Finnick the human.
—Yes, like the otters—he replied, taking the tips of Annie's fingers to his lips and kissing them lightly—They hold each other's hands while they sleep so the other won't drift away—.