xxxxx

We are weaned from our timidity
In the flush of love's light
we dare be brave
And suddenly we see
that love costs all we are
and will ever be.
Yet it is only love
which sets us free.

From Touched By an Angel, by Maya Angelou

xxxxxx

It was a golden shaft of sunlight that woke him, filtering through a gap in the curtains at the break of dawn. He blinked blearily as his eyes adjusted to wakefulness, a smile stretching across his face when his gaze rested upon the girl curled against him. His arms unconsciously tightened around her, pulling her close as he buried his face in her soft curls. The gesture was intimate in a way that scared him shitless, but he didn't have the power to pull away. His attraction to the girl was magnetic and unnatural, and if he had trouble resisting it before, he had no doubt that doing so would be impossible now. He was under her complete control, and oh, it was more exhilarating then he ever could've imagined.

Exhilarating, but so damned dangerous. Of all the complications that could've occurred during his visit, Annie Cresta was one he never would've expected, and he knew deep down that what he felt for her had the potential to cause more difficulty than anything else possibly could have.

His trip to District Four was supposed to have been simple. The district's economic output had been significantly lower than its assigned quota. The idiots who managed the fishing industry gave weak excuses for the drop off, and the feeble minds on District Four's economic committee hadn't done anything to garner substantial improvement. Finnick was more a politician than an economist, on Snow's primary economic board because he could deal with people in a way that the other board members simply couldn't, so he'd been sent in to see if he couldn't handle the problem with political maneuvering instead of number crunching.

It should have been as easy as subtle threats and blackmail, possibly promises of leniency should a more delicate approach have been necessary. Lack of production was almost always caused by idiot workers who opposed the Capitol and didn't see why they should bother working for fish they couldn't keep. It was a common problem in District Four, which was just prosperous enough to allow its people the energy to fight back, but not to the extent where any of them were satisfied with things as they were.

He'd set aside a number of weeks in which he expected he would be able to stabilize the district's economic foundation and pick up on any inklings of rebellion that were behind the sudden absence of work ethic.

Annie Cresta had taken those expectations and turned them on their head. He never would've expected it when they first met, nor any of the dozen times he saw her after that. She'd crept up on him, working her way into his heart before he was aware he'd started holding her in any regard at all. In fact, she'd been gutting fish when they spoke for the first time, dressed in an old t-shirt and tattered jean shorts and chatting with the women around her as she moved about one of the stations along the docks. He wouldn't have looked twice if she hadn't waved in his direction—not at him, but at Erik Cresta, who'd been giving Finnick a tour of the area. The tall, dark-haired man was in charge of managing the bulk of the district's workers, and was therefore the main focus of Finnick's trip. He'd been stony-faced for much of the morning, brushing off casual questions or attempts at small talk with terse, one-word replies, but his features softened when he caught sight of the girl, a smile of such shining love overtaking them that Finnick felt compelled to look away.

"My daughter," he said to Finnick. "Annie. She helps with cleaning and packing the fish."

Without another word, he left Finnick behind and headed for the girl.

"Sorry to bother you," said Annie, after her father had stopped in front of her. "I just wanted to let you know that I'll be home late tonight. Mrs. Havisham has trouble staying on her feet now that she's so far along, so I offered to cook supper for her. Maybe take care of Jake for a couple hours afterwards."

Finnick stopped several paces back so that he could study her without drawing attention to himself. She was pretty enough for a girl from the districts. Even elbow-deep in fish guts, with her hair tossed back in a messy ponytail and the barest hint of sunburn blistering her freckle-dusted nose, there was something about her that he found strangely appealing. Her eyes especially were interesting, the same gray-green color as the sky before a storm, and framed with long, thick lashes that nearly brushed her cheeks when she blinked.

"Jake. He's her youngest, yeah?" asked Erik.

"For now. I can't imagine it'll be more than few days before there's another." Annie brushed her hands on her apron and wiped her brow with the sleeve of her shirt. "I hope it's a girl, for Mrs. Havisham's sake. She's already got her hands full with Jake and Anton."

Her father smiled playfully. "If you're around to work your influence, I can't imagine gender will make the child any easier to work with." Annie made a face and picked up something that looked like a fish's stomach, miming throwing it at him. Erik boomed a hearty laugh, eyes flashing with genuine humor for a moment before his expression darkened slightly. "I don't mind that you go to her place for dinner, but make sure you're home before the peacekeepers begin their watch." He glanced at Finnick. "I should be going. I was just giving Mister Odair a tour of the district. He's here from the Capitol on business."

Annie's eyes flashed to where he stood, and Finnick noted with some surprise that she didn't show any visible reaction to his appearance, instead quirking a brow and eyeing him with an almost clinical curiosity.

"Well, I guess you should get back to it," she said, after a moment. She smiled sweetly at Finnick, the expression completely guileless. "I hope you enjoy your stay, Mister Odair."

He offered her a smile of his own, although he imagined his was much less genuine.

"Thank you, Miss Cresta."

Erik led him away, and he all but forgot the girl for the rest of the afternoon. It wasn't until he'd arrived at Erik's home to meet him the next morning that he thought of her at all, and that was because she'd been the one to open the door with a bright smile, even offering him a cup of coffee while her father finished getting ready. He'd expected, perhaps somewhat arrogantly, blatant flirting or flustered awkwardness, but she'd shown no signs of either, instead treating him with curiosity more than anything. She sat across from him while he nursed his coffee and sipped at her own cup as she asked unexpectedly earnest questions about the Capitol. Where did he live? Did he really have more food than he could eat? Did everyone have a car? Did he work with President Snow?

He'd had to maintain caution, of course, but she was smart enough to stay away from anything he wouldn't have been able to answer. He found her reactions to his replies interesting as well, in the way her eyes sometimes widened or her lips occasionally pursed with disapproval. She didn't know how to hide her expressions, something that even the more foolish of Capitol citizens learned early on, and he rather enjoyed reading her emotions play out across her face. He was surprised to find that while her positive reactions were frequent, she rarely responded with so much as controlled censure, and never with the barely concealed disgust he'd seen when working with people from the districts before. He'd asked her about it as tactfully as he could, and Annie simply shrugged and said, "I'm not fond of the Capitol, but why should I take it out on you? It's not your fault you were born there."

The conversation was interesting enough that he purposely arrived at Erik's house early the next morning, hoping that he and Annie might talk over coffee again. He was actually relieved when she was the one who answered the door, smiling pleasantly and offering a friendly, "Good morning, Finnick," as though they were old friends.

He asked her questions this time, about what life was like in Four and what she did in her free time. She replied with talk of how much she enjoyed reading and boating, but how she loved swimming most of all.

"It's amazing," she'd said with sparkling eyes. "Almost like flying, except better. Do you swim?"

"There are pools in the Capitol. I've been once or twice."

She snorted disgustedly. "That doesn't count. It's not really swimming unless you're in an ocean, or a lake, at the very least."

"Yes, with dirt and sand everywhere. How lovely," said Finnick, his nose wrinkling just slightly.

Annie laughed, the sound vibrant and almost musical. "You're so Capitol. It's funny." Almost as an afterthought, she tacked on, "I ought to teach you to gut fish before you leave. I can already imagine the look on your face."

Erik had arrived then and eyed the two of them oddly—had looked at Finnick with nothing less than outright caution—but said nothing, and had merely told Finnick it was time they get going.

The next several weeks passed in something of a blur. Finnick didn't always have to meet Erik, but he arrived at his home earlier than necessary when he did. Annie began showing up outside their morning conversations as well, seemingly by coincidence at first, but she apparently grew tired of pretending to run into him, and before long, she barged into his life outright instead, showing up at his place one evening as though it were the most natural thing she could've done.

"I thought you might be feeling lonely," she said, a nervous smile on her face. "Can I come in?"

He hadn't had it in him to say no, and it became a tradition for her to come over and keep him company after that. Oftentimes, she simply sat with him while he went over paperwork, always with a book in her lap that she focused on until he finished working. At first, their time together consisted of nothing more than polite conversation. Then Annie started suggesting other ways to pass the time. Initially, they simply walked along the beaches, but she soon dragged him out to the cliffs by the sea, and they hiked the craggy rocks and explored the caves that bordered the ocean. Some days later, she woke him at the crack of dawn with the insistence that he must see the sunrise. She even forced him swimming eventually, and spent an entire morning critiquing his stroke while gliding through the water like a fantastical ocean creature who belonged more in fairytales than reality.

Seeing her soon became the high point of his day. He'd gather reports and look at numbers and check records that'd been taken both by the managers and the peacekeepers in charge of monitoring the dock workers, but the whole while his mind would be spinning around Annie Cresta. Most of the time he told himself that she was nothing more than a pretty distraction, but sometimes honesty took hold and he admitted that he truly valued her in a way he couldn't remember valuing anyone since his parents died. He didn't make friends, and while he had a reputation in the Capitol for sleeping with anything that moved, his escapades had a pattern—he screwed those he needed things from. He'd never been attached to any of them, was only attracted to a small few, and after the way he'd grown up, he hardly found enjoyment out of sleeping with even the handful who didn't irritate him outright.

Annie was different. He'd wondered briefly if all girls from the districts were like her, but dismissed the thought as soon as it occurred to him. She was special. Undoubtedly, undeniably special. While he was nothing more than masks and walls built around a mass of selfishness and immorality, she was open and sincere and good. Genuinely, deeply, impossibly good. So much so that sometimes, when she got too close, he would wonder if he'd burst to ash for daring to put himself in her presence.

It was worse because she didn't know how bad he really was, had no idea that he had a history ugly enough that most of the time he did everything he could to pretend it'd never happened, or that he'd slept with dozens of women and probably couldn't name half of them. Had no idea that he'd indirectly played a part in more deaths than he liked to think about, and that he couldn't close his eyes at night without seeing things that made him hate himself.

She didn't know that every piece of information he'd collected since he got to the district suggested that her father was likely fudging numbers and letting his men steal Capitol fish and work shorter hours and encouraging other managers to do the same. Wasn't aware that if he were to return to the Capitol and report his findings, her father would be punished severely, and it wouldn't be out of the question for Snow to do it through Annie herself.

Finnick sighed and dropped a soft kiss on her forehead. He almost hated himself for this worse than anything else. For not stopping her feelings for him, for encouraging them. For letting her anywhere near someone like him. But everything had moved too quickly for him to stop. He'd only just registered that he felt something for her, and then she'd shown up to say good-bye, and he'd barely let her get a word in before he'd had to lean down and kiss her.

His heart had almost stopped when she'd pushed him away, but then she'd looked him in the eye and said, "That better have meant something."

He hadn't been able to lie. "Of course it did. Can't you feel it?" He'd taken a deep breath and plowed forward, "You're Annie and I'm Finnick, and it's like… it's like that's all I need to say. Like us, together, should speak for itself."

Annie had smiled in a way that made his heart swell, and she'd reached out and woven her fingers through his own. "It's funny, isn't it? How something so complicated feels ridiculously simple."

"Funny," he murmured.

Then she kissed him, more gently than he had her. Her lips had barely brushed his, the touch soft as butterfly wings. She'd stopped after a moment, had pulled back and looked at him, and said with a hint of nervousness, "This isn't the Capitol. You aren't expecting..."

He'd smiled softly; he hadn't been planning anything beyond kissing, not when he knew he'd be leaving the next day and doubted they'd ever see other again. He wouldn't squeeze in a quick screw before leaving. Annie was worth so much more than that.

"I'm not expecting anything, Annie."

She'd exhaled in relief. "Good." She twirled a strand of dark hair around her fingers, a nervous gesture of hers he'd memorized within the first few days of his visit. "But, um… I don't want to leave yet."

"Then stay. Help me finish packing, and then…" He trailed off, not wanting to push.

"Can I sleep here? With you?" Her cheeks went red. "I mean, just sleep?"

Her eyes sparkled hopefully, her smile shy and innocent, and it had been one of those moments when he'd wondered that her goodness didn't make him combust.

"If you want."

"I want."

It had been the best night of his life. Annie in his arms, her head resting on his chest, her soft body so close to his. He hadn't expected to get any sleep at all, had been content to stare at her for the first few hours, taking in her every feature and wondering how he'd ever thought of her as merely pretty. He must've drifted off at some point and she'd fallen closer to him while they slept, but he was oddly content with things as they were. Just holding her was something so much bigger than he'd experienced with anyone before, and he almost thought that pushing for anything more would cheapen it. He was satisfied with things as they were, in a way he hadn't realized he knew how to be.

Annie shifted slightly, hair tickling his bare arms. Finnick's breath caught in his throat as her eyes fluttered open, stormy green peering at him with nothing less than perfect warmth.

He loved her. It wasn't possible to deny it when she looked at him like that, in a way that made him worry every inch of his being would burst at the seams from feeling too much at once. It scared him, made him feel weak and helpless and terrifyingly strong all at the same time, but dammit if he didn't love her.

"You're all rumply," said Annie, a bit of sleep clinging to her voice. She lifted a hand and rested it fondly on one of his cheeks, brushing her thumb over his bottom lip. He had to bite back a moan, even as he laughed internally at his ridiculousness. That an innocent touch could affect him in such a way was absurd, but then again, so was the entire situation. He simply couldn't help how he reacted to Annie Cresta. "I like it," Annie went on, as though she weren't perfectly aware of how she was affecting him. "I don't know why you wear those silly suits and put all that junk in your hair. You're prettier like this."

"It's not fashionable," said Finnick.

Annie rolled her eyes. "Capitol fashions are stupid." She moved her hand lower, tracing his chin, and then resting her fingers against his pulse, cheekily cocking a brow when his heart skipped a beat at her touch.

He had the most ridiculous urge to blush. "I don't disagree," he admitted. "Unfortunately, it's-" His eyes rested on the clock next to his bed, and he cursed. "Shit, I leave in a half hour. I have to go get-"

She cut him off with a kiss, lips moving against his tentatively at first, but more forcefully as she gained confidence. Her hands tangled in his hair, and Finnick dismissed the knowledge that he'd have to leave soon, kissing her back with fervor, hands slipping under her shirt and resting on her lower back, something pathetically like a whimper falling from his lips as she squirmed for a better angle, nearly climbing on top of him in effort to get closer. Almost unthinkingly, he moved his hands to her sides, grabbing her by the waist and pretending he'd never have to let go.

God, it felt like she'd set every nerve of his body on fire, but he didn't care—would gladly burn if he could keep feeling like this. He wanted nothing more than to kiss Annie Cresta forever.

But getting what he wanted was something Finnick couldn't afford. He moaned piteously as he tore his lips from hers, separating himself from the girl he'd come to care for so strongly in such a short amount of time.

"I have to go," he repeated breathlessly, raking a hand through his hair, fidgeting slightly. He was flustered. Had no idea what to say. Hell, what could possibly be said? He was leaving, probably never coming back. They might not see each other again, but he loved her, and dammit he wished there were words to make everything okay.

"I know," she whispered. Her face was flushed, her hair mussed and lips swollen.

She was the most beautiful thing he'd ever seen.

"This…"

"I know," she repeated.

He laughed humorously, because his only other choice would've been to cry. "Would it be better or worse if I told you I love you?"

Annie's eyes widened slightly, but she did smile. Smiled broadly, showing off perfect white teeth, making her eyes sparkle in a way that had his heart swelling almost painfully. "I don't know. Would it be better or worse if I told you that I love you too?"

He brushed a loose strand of hair from her face and tried not to sob. "Better, I think. It makes me happy. Even if I don't deserve it."

"You're not so bad a man as you think," said Annie. She pressed a soft, gentle kiss to his lips. "And it makes me happy too. I'm sad also, but… more glad, I think. Because I'll have these memories now. It'd be worse if I didn't."

"I'm glad," he managed.

They kissed one more time, and then he had to leave, to go back to the Capitol where there weren't beaches or caves by the sea, or girls like Annie Cresta who saw him as something more than he ever could've imagined he could be.

…

Author's Note:

Okay, I'm not exactly sure where this came from. I was browsing for Hunger Games stories to read, and there are about a million AU fics about Katniss and Peeta, and even some about Finnick and Katniss, but it seems like Finnick and Annie have few good stories that aren't a hundred percent cannon. So I decided to launch a comeback to fanfiction, in which Finnick is a Capitol politician. There isn't much on him and Annie falling in love initially; that's because I intend for this story to have a broader point. Don't worry. There will be angst and fluff among other things, but to me, it never seemed like the power of Finnick and Annie's relationship came from how they fell in love; not like Katniss and Peeta. The amazing thing about them was that they stayed in love, that despite Annie's madness and Finnick's circumstances, they still retained an almost shockingly pure, beautiful affection for one another. That's what I'm trying to capture here.

That's the important stuff. If you're not into Author's Notes, halt there, take in my pleas to please review (this is a different concept, and I haven't written for a while anyway, so I'm nervous to see how this goes), and skip the rest.

For anyone interested in exactly what Finnick's job is, and how it works:

I'm basing Panem's politics and economics strongly off the Soviet Union. Snow fills the leadership role, and Finnick works for a committee similar to what I assume Gosplan was like. Gosplan, or the Soviet Union's state planning committee, was the top level of the USSR's economic system. I don't know specifics. I'm not an expert on economics, but from what I gather, it was powerful, and in charge of smaller, more specialized groups, which in this story are the committees in charge of individual districts. I won't go into detail about that sort of thing, and what little I do know was gleaned from my brother's college economics book, but it is somewhat important. Basically, I wanted Finnick in a position of political power in the Capitol, and while Finnick's primary influence comes from much less savory means than a job in economics, this still seemed the best bet.

Anyway, I'm done babbling now. I'll try to get the first real chapter posted quickly, but things will slow down after that; I only have three chapters written, plus I'm starting college in a couple weeks, and while the schedule for my first year is pretty easy, I'm still wary about how much time I'll have. Plus, I don't know how this will go over either way; if people think it's a stupid idea, I'm not sure I'll continue. Hence, my plea for feedback.

Wishing on Fireflies

p.s. If you're still here-Google the poem on top and read it in full. It captures planned themes for this story perfectly, and it's beautiful besides. Promise you won't regret it.