Disclaimer: I don't any of these characters and ugh I'm just having so many Finnick and Annie feelings.
Inspired by "Light Outside" by Wakey!Wakey! (you should listen to it though)
Enjoy!
"Everything's going to be alright, darling," He murmured, brushing the back of his fingers across her trembling cheek. She stiffened before relaxing in his arms.
He watched her sadly. He was trying, he really was. He wanted to save her, but it was hard. It's always hard to save someone from his or her own head.
"C'mon, Annie. Let's go eat something," He gently tugged her towards him.
She shook her head rapidly, her fists clenched over her ears and her face buried in the sheets. She had always been stubborn, so stubborn she often tried to hide her pain from him in any way that she could. She was always trying to help him, to save him.
(Even when they first met.)
…
His toes hung off the edge as he stared intently at the black sea raging beneath him.
He contemplated the logistics. The ones he had compiled each and every time he had come to this very cliff. The ones he had thought of the moment he had given up everything.
He laughed, humorlessly. He must have been quite a sight, clinging to a bottle at the edge of the world.
Maybe he would have walked away like he had done so many times before. Maybe if he was sober. Maybe if he remembered the consequences that could occur. Maybe if he hadn't mentored his own friends. Maybe if his parents were still here. Maybe if it hadn't actually been a damn boating accident. Maybemaybemaybe.
He carefully inched a single foot into the open air, testing but not daring. It was easier than he thought. It was nothing really. Death was nothing, not anymore.
He was not expecting to be tugged along and for just a tiny second regret filled him to the core. He really didn't want to die…?
His back slammed into the hard rock beneath him, before something—no, someone—shoved him aside. He glanced up, frowning. A tiny girl with long, dark hair and piercing, green eyes pushed herself up off the ground. She looked vaguely familiar.
"What the hell were you thinking?" She shouted angrily, her voice echoing over the storm.
Anger bubbled inside him. Who did she think she was? He returned her glare with equal amounts of venom, "Why the hell do you care?"
"You were trying to kill yourself, Finnick Odair." He blinked; a little surprised that she knew his name, before remembering that everyone in this bloody country knew his name.
"Yeah, I was. So what?"
She shook her head before snatching the bottle from his grasp, "I don't want anymore children to die, Finnick Odair." He winced, looking away. He was not a child, but for some reason he couldn't respond. Of course. Of course, she was right. She threw the bottle into the sea and left without another word.
He didn't know how long he sat there. He didn't know how long the rain poured down his face. He only knew that just one year had passed.
Just one year had passed since he had won his games and he didn't know how many more he had to endure.
(He didn't learn the girl's name until months later.)
…
He drew her clenched hands into his and carefully, carefully pulled her fists open, one finger at a time. "It's not real, Annie. You're safe, sweetheart, you're safe."
She opened her eyes, and seemed to stare straight through him. "But he's here. He says it was…it was my…they…my fault," her voice broke, the tears streaming down her face. He stared at her as she began to shake uncontrollably. Every time felt like the first time. Every time felt like someone was killing him from the inside.
He put a hand on either side of her face, and tried to bring her back. It was routine, trying to bring her back from wherever she went.
(It was the first promise he ever made to her and the first one he ever broke.)
…
"I know what you're thinking," she told him, still staring at the table in front of her. "I just…I just don't think I can do this, you know?"
He blinked, grimacing, "No, Cresta, I don't know. I mean, it's not entirely difficult to pick out a persona for the intervie—"
"That's not what I'm talking about," she cut in, sighing and still refusing to meet his eyes.
He frowned, "Are you already giving up, then?" He didn't want her to give up and, more importantly, he didn't want her to die. Maybe it was because he didn't want to see those stormy, green eyes morph into cold, dead ones. Or maybe he felt that he owed her for saving him so long ago. Whatever it was, he felt obligated to save her. But he couldn't do that if she was going to give up on herself.
Annie shook her head, a little frantically, "Don't say it like that! I'm not giving up, I'm just…"
"Giving up." He finished for her, still frowning.
"No!" She shouted, her eyes narrowing in anger. "I am not giving up." She paused, before glancing away, "At least, I'm trying not to give up…"
"You're not trying hard enough."
Her eyes snapped up to his, their eyes meeting for the first time today, "What would you know? You're the great Finnick Odair. No matter how hard I try, it'll never ever be hard enough." Finnick blinked in astonishment as her eyes filled with tears.
He stared at the girl he had officially known for three years, unofficially for four. She was just a friend, but something was different. He didn't want her to die. He reached for her tiny hands and peered into those dark, green eyes. He remembered how they looked when they first met. He gave her a small smile; "I don't want anymore children to die, Annie Cresta."
She winced at his words, "I'm sorry."
He scowled, leaning forward slightly, "No, don't be sorry. Just try, Annie."
That blazing look in her eyes returned, however dimmed as a blaze could be, "Finnick…"
"Annie Cresta," He sighed, "I promise to bring you back from the arena. I promise." A strange look passed through her eyes, something he could not quite place. She smiled at him, weaving her fingers through his. Only then did he remember that he was still holding her hands.
"Then I promise to try," she muttered, eyes full of green fire.
…
He never truly brought her back completely, did he?
She slowly opened her eyes and stared at him, as if she knew exactly what he was thinking. She probably did.
She reached up to caress his face, gently, like he would break into a million pieces at any given moment, and then she kissed him. She kissed him as if she would never see him again, the feel of her lips on his, like she was drowning and he was the only source of oxygen.
It took all his willpower to pull away. He searched her face for an explanation and she searched his for an answer.
"I'm not crazy, Finn," she whispered, falling back and staring up at the ceiling.
"I know you're not." She really wasn't. She might be the sanest of all the Victors alive.
"So when did I actually become the mad girl I was pretending to be?" She watched him with wide eyes, just like she had years ago.
A series of memories passed between them. Her interviews not even Caesar Flickerman could turn in her favor, the tears that would not stop, the vacant expression as they crowned her, the moment they decided to let the world think she was mad, the first meeting with President Snow, the price she had to pay for avoiding the clutches of the Capitol, the white rose floating in parent's blood, the reaping of her sister. He remembered their first kiss, ankle deep in freezing seawater; he remembered their first time. He remembered everything, every touch and every tear.
"You're not mad, you're just weird," He replied.
She giggled, turning a light shade of pink, "Rude!"
He pulled her into his arms, "You're cute."
"I am, aren't I?" She pulled her arms up into a ridiculous pose.
He rolled his eyes playfully and she laughed breathlessly.
"I love you," Finnick whispered against her cheek.
"I love you, too," Annie murmured back, against his chest.
They remained like that for a while, clinging to each other, in complete bliss. They almost forgot where they were, that he had to leave for the Capitol in several hours.
(For a few moments, and for forever too, they were indivisible.)
Did I do them justice? I just love these two so much and I feel like they have so much potential. It's so difficult to capture everything about them. My feels are too intense wahh
Reviews are Finnick Odair in his underwear and cookies!
xo