The Hunger Games verse and all of its characters belong to the talented Miss Collins. Other than the OC I do not own any if it. If I did, I would be out vacationing with Josh Hutcherson, not writing fanfiction.
Happy reading!
Prologue
The jagged edges of the glass keep digging into the soles of her feet painfully, but she refuses to acknowledge the pain, the distraction it provides. She has to know the truth today, has to hear it.
The bright flames in the hearth have long died out and the chill has permeated the air in its wake. The night is inky black outside but it is nothing compared to darkness that seems to etch itself into her soul. It feels like a nightmare to her, the kind where she keeps running and running and running away from something that she doesn't even know, an eternity of endless pursuits. The silence is almost too much for her, too deafening, too loud, too oppressive.
Her hands are fisted by her side, her hair is a gnarled, tangled mess as a plethora of emotions play across her face- hurt, resentment, betrayal, loss, anger, but most importantly hatred, hatred so staggeringly intense that it leaves her almost breathless and dizzy. She looks like a woman possessed.
"Tell me! Tell me the truth!" She yells at him.
"You did it, didn't you? You arranged all of it!" She realizes that she is screeching like a banshee.
He doesn't answer, just looks at the floor intently.
"You did it so that I could be unattached, so that you could sell me to the highest bidder."
Silence.
"That is how you got them to fund me. You promised them my body, if I were to win."
After an excruciatingly long few seconds, he drags his eyes to look at her. They look so broken, so lost, so human. His mouth is twisted into a frown and he pulls at his hair with an agonized look on his face. How is it possible for someone to looks so broken yet so beautiful at the same time? A part of her brain screams at how wrong this is, that he didn't do anything, that perhaps he should be the one yelling. It's confusing at times, so confusing.
Sometimes, everything becomes such a blur, she is hit by such a staggeringly intense ball of pain and anger out of the blue that her knees almost buckle as her memories, figments of the past and present seem to bleed into each other. But her anger; she holds onto it like a lifeline. Her anger is the one thing that almost always cuts across the hazy blur of emotions, of past and present, of reality and fiction.
She realizes that she is drained from all the yelling. Her feet are bleeding and the cold feels like it is creeping into her bloodstream, robbing her of whatever warmth she has left in her body, whatever life she has left in her body. The truth will set you free, they say. But they don't tell you how inexplicably defeated and vulnerable it makes you;they don't tell you how dead it makes you feel, how alone, how lost.
But she has to hear it from his lips. She has to know if all those voices in her head are right, if her fears are justified, if her demons are his creations. The aftermath will shatter her, rip her apart, of that she is sure. So she braces herself and asks, no, begs to know, one last time.
"Finnick, you killed my fiancé, didn't you?"
Author's note: This is my first Hunger Games fanfic. I feel like there aren't enough Finnick Odair fanfics out is such an amazing character and it's a shame that his personality hasn't been explored. Having said that, my Finnick might be a little OOC. However, fanfiction is where you let your pen(in this case the keyboard) run crazy and kick up a shit storm. Anyway, if you have any questions, ideas, requests then just message me and I'll be glad to answer them. Hell,ask me anything!
Remember, reviews= love.
Adios!