perfectionist.
suzanne collins owns the hunger games.
a/n: we all secretly or not-so-secretly love finnick. so here's my take on finnick/annie.
all his life he's had his way. flash an ohsoperfect smile, let his copper hair catch the light in that perfect way, and they all fall over themselves to be dazzled blind by him.
he doesn't mind. if they're blind, they're blind to his secret scars, his hidden flaws. and, to be honest, he likes it that way.
( he likes pretending to be perfect. )
he's fourteen and he's just a kid but he's already grown to need perfection, need it like air or water or the sea.
it's the one thing that keeps them away, you see.
he's weaved himself a mask of plastic and lies, of pretense and prettiness.
( it hides his ugliness; it makes him perfect. )
so he tightens his grip on his mask, smiles a lovely smile, and walks up to the stage.
( but it's slipping, milimeter by centimeter by inch, and he can't hold on forever. )
and it's like a sick joke because perfection, the thing that used to keep them so far away, is the very thing that draws them ohsoclose (tooclose).
with every night spent with a stranger;
with every bit of innocence stolen from him;
with every slip of his shiny plastic mask;
he breaks, just a little bit more every time.
( and he's drawing closer and closer to the edge now. )
one day, he sees her and he can't help thinking she's the loveliest thing to enter the capitol.
( he thinks it's maybe because of her eyes. they're green, like the ocean that he misses so much. )
he smiles his glossy smile, because that's what he's supposed to do, and she smiles back. not a savage, hungry smile; one of sympathy.
( one of sadness. )
he doesn't want her sympathy.
( he's strong enough, okay. )
so he turns away.
( liar liar liar liar liar liar )
that night, he finds out her name is annie, and he never forgets it.
annie.
a – n – n – i – e .
she smiles at him, one afternoon, and leans over. whispers a word.
"liar"
he can't forget her gaze, intense and perceptive and seeing every single bit of imperfection and ugliness he's tried to hard to conceal. her smile, sweet and innocent and yet so old, somehow. her voice, resonating with truth and every dirty little secret he's hidden beneath his ohsopretty mask.
( she rips away his mask and leaves him bloody and naked and alone. )
he can't forget her.
( threads of broken lies and broken dreams drift towards the floor; the ravaged beauty of what once was his lifeline )
he decides to hate her, and spends the rest of her stay glowering at her.
( she turns out to be his saviour, but really, who's keeping track anyway? )
falling in love with her, he decides, is somewhat like falling off a cliff.
it means you're screwed.
but you can't deny that the fall is somewhat exhilarating.
she smiles at him, the corners of eyes crinkling up, and he decides that he will do anything in his power to protect her.
( but he can't. )
he hears her scream; hears her cower away from invisible monsters, and it feels like a knife slicing through his heart.
he puts his arm around her and wishes he could keep those monsters away.
( but he's not strong enough for both of them, see. )
so he holds her and wipes away her tears, and hates the capitol with all the broken pieces of his heart.
his last thought is that perfection is so overrated.
he dies with her face in his mind and her name on his lips.
this is so messed up and confusing.
whatever.
review please and i may actually consider editing this. like, so it doesn't burn your eyes quite so much.