Come with me, my love,
To the sea
The sea of love
I want to tell you
How much I love you
Finnick was nineteen when she was reaped. A fifteen year old girl with flowing brown hair and bright green eyes, only a year older than he was when he won the games just five years prior.
He met her on the train with her hands knotted in her lap and her dark brows furrowed, staring at her fingers against the pale blue of her dress. The boy who was reaped with her seemed equally upset, chewing on the inside of his mouth and tracing the pattern of the cloth on the table. As she lifted her eyes to his her lips parted as if she were surprised he was to be the one to mentor her. There was a large pool of victors to pick from to mentor but Finnick was picked every year. He was a favorite. Besides, Snow always wanted him in the Capitol and the Games were a great reason to take him there.
The girl, Annie Cresta, clung to every word that left Finnick's and Mags' lips, desperate to stay alive and Finnick knew he would try everything to keep her alive. The morning of the Games, during their goodbyes, Annie kissed his cheek, wrapping her arms around his neck and thanking him for everything. He could smell her, something sweet no doubt a result from the many buttons in the Capitol's showers, and he felt something strange stir at the touch of her lips against his skin. He had to scold himself, remind himself she was a fifteen year-old girl and there was a possibility she could die.
But she didn't. She was accepted into the Career Pack in training and the few days she wasn't hunted in the arena helped her chances of her survival. She was doing perfectly okay until her District partner was beheaded by the District 2 boy who was angry for something so ridiculous even Finnick forgot. Annie fled then, leaving the Careers behind as she hid from everyone. Finnick and Mags did everything to keep her alive, watching in anticipation, just waiting for someone to find her and kill her. Finnick's chest tightened every time he thought of it. He'd never been to a tribute as much as this girl. This fifteen year old girl with brown hair and green eyes.
The dam breaks and Finnick panics, leaning close to the screen, watching as the water washed away the remaining Careers who were soon to separating. Watching as Annie put her swimming skills to work and stayed afloat until all the others had drowned.
The fifteen year old girl from District 4 had won the 70th Hunger Games.
When Finnick saw her, her skin glowing with the medicine they pumped into her to repair her, her face brushed lightly with make-up he knew she didn't need, he could tell something wasn't right. Recognition passed her face when she saw him but her expression remained the same. Vacant. She wouldn't speak, her eyes that were once so bright looked shattered as if something inside had broken and couldn't be repaired as easily as her skin. Caesar Flickerman tried to coax words from her but she wouldn't answer. She kept her eyes on her knotted fingers just like on the train.
In District 4 she was taken to a doctor, her family sure something was curable, something could be done about the shell of a girl who woke up screaming at night and covered her ears at times, panicked. Finnick knew it was the Games, the beheading of her partner that drove her to what some would conclude as insanity. He knew nothing could "cure" her. He knew she wasn't mad either, she was just lost, confused and broken like he was. Sometimes, like he still was.
He found her on the empty beach, her legs pulled up against her chest, her eyes unblinkingly staring at the waves as if she were expecting them to swallow her up. Maybe she was hoping. Finnick took a seat next to her, brushing the sand off of her legs, and watching her, hoping himself she would say something, look at him or do something to let him know she was still there. Her lips were dry and cracked and her eyes blank. Something in her had broken, as if her whole soul had cracked until it couldn't handle the pressure and broke apart completely, leaving her with shattered pieces that wouldn't go back together no matter how hard anyone tried.
The doctor had told Finnick she would never be the same. He believed it but he also believed she wasn't mute. She could talk, she just wasn't ready. Wasn't ready to face what happened in that fight to the death with twenty-three other kids.
Annie was pulled out of school, deemed unstable, and brought to the beach everyday. Finnick stayed with her, waiting for her to respond. He sat with her and stared at the waves as well, telling himself she would get better.
She came back to him in pieces. She first reached for his hand when he took a seat on the sand next to her. He took it without a word, too surprised to say anything except to hold her hand, run his fingers over the soft tanned skin and wait for her next response. The next one was just a week later when he was digging in the sand with his free hand, looking for shells to balance on her knees and thighs because he thought it was beautiful. He found a pretty white twisted shell and set it on her knee, glancing up after to make sure she wasn't upset. Instead of his eyes meeting the side of her face like usual, his eyes locked instead with her bright green ones, not as shattered as they were before. He grinned at her, knowing she was almost back, almost there.
Two full weeks later, Finnick arrived at the beach prepared to sit down for another ten hours, but instead he saw Annie standing in the waves, the sea water causing her white skirt to stick to her knees.
"Annie?" he called uncertainly. Her head turned in his direction and he swore he heard her sigh.
"Finnick," she answered, barely loud enough to carry over the sounds of the waves beating against the sand. Her voice was rough from not being used for an extended period of time and maybe it was that thought that sent Finnick into the waves, pushing against the current to reach her. She throws her arms around him, pulling him against her. Without even thinking, he leans down and presses his lips against hers, surprised at the sudden surge of feelings towards her. How could he have not known he loved her? What else would make him stay by her side for so long, waiting and waiting? It was as if she had crept up on him, this small girl with the brown hair and new eyes that were broken but slowly mending.
And she loved him too.
