misguided ghosts
of roses, fishes and nightmares
x.x
He smells of sea water and fish. She smells of roses and old books.
It's been a long day, but they're finally together.
Finnick crawls up to her on the bed. His arms rest around her middle, his lips against the back of her neck. They're both silent, but they needn't talk to comfort each other. His breath against her neck soothes her up; her hands resting over his make him forget everything they've been through for the past few years. At least they're together, enjoying small, golden time they've got to enjoy the other's presence. The Games begin tomorrow, and he is ought to please people all around the Capitol while she stays home and waits for him to return. Annie doesn't speak much, but when she is with him she manages to get the boldest out of herself. She is aware of what he does at the Capitol, but in the end she doesn't really think about it too often. How little can the Capitol citizens find beyond a person if they cannot see past their semblance.
He shifts quietly, and she closes her eyes. Neither of them is speaking. His hand rests lazily over her waist, tickling her stomach tenderly. She smiles quietly, knowing that he does that when he's nervous. She slowly grabs his hand and presses it against her cheek, the warmth of his fingers comforting her as nothing else can. She starts pressing soft kisses to his fingertips, which taste of salt and freshly fished herring.
Finnick's breath against the back of her neck tells Annie that he's smiling.
"My love." he whispers quietly, his free arm tightening around her waist. "We should get some rest."
Annie shrugs. "You're the one leaving tomorrow, not me."
His eyelids flutter open at the mention of his departure and for a moment he can do nothing but stare at her soft, mildly flushed cheek. Her hair rests over her shoulders, and her lips still move quietly and lovingly over his fingertips. He unconsciously leans forward and presses a soft kiss to her cheek.
"I'll be back soon, I promise," he says quietly.
She closes her eyes and gulps quietly, almost unnoticeably. She knows he will be back; she knows they will soon be together under the same sky and covers. They will soon be walking down the beach together, sitting at their favourite spot near the cliff and gazing at the sunset as her cheek rests against his shoulder. But it doesn't escape her raving mind that every time Finnick comes back from the Capitol he is quiet, moody, and worryingly miserable. Then Annie greets him with a soft kiss and a small smile, and his mood seems to lighten up considerably. It has always been that way, and it will always be.
He is Finnick Odair, the Capitol's golden boy, and she is Annie Cresta, the girl who went mad in the Arena. And they are in love with each other.
"I'll be waiting for you," she whispers, a small smile on her face. He nods quietly, knowing that she will be. And for tonight, everything is fine.
He is hers, heart and soul. And she is his.
x.x
She is standing at the beach, near the cliff where they used to sit together. She stares at the sunset which had once filled her with peace and tranquility; now it seems dark and cold. She can picture themselves watching the sunset, hoping for a better new day and a less terrible future. All their dreams, hopes and ideas had been crafted at that very spot – and now they are all shattered and long-lost, like him.
She places a hand over her belly, which started to swell up a little after he left. She feels how her throat tightens, and her eyes start welling up with tears. He promised he would come back, and she hadn't even managed to tell him about the baby. He is now dead, completely and utterly gone – and she is nothing without him. Not even a shred of Finnick's Annie remains.
She kneels beside the spot where they used to sit and remembers the day when Finnick first told her he loved her. She remembers his very exact words, the movement of his soft lips. Those lips that had kissed half of the Capitol, but that at the same time had only belonged to her. Those lips, those devious lips she missed more than anything. She reminisces how his arms had wrapped around her when she had whispered that she loved him too, and for a moment she believes she can still feel his warm body against hers.
A faint smile appears on her face as the first tears start streaming down her face. She knows he's gone, but at the same time a part of him is still with her, embedded onto the little creature growing inside her belly.
"I'll be waiting for you," she whispers, a small smile on her face as she quietly rubs the tears off her face. And for tonight, everything is fine.
He is still hers, somehow, someway, somewhere. And she is still his.
catching fire definitely did something to me. hope you enjoyed the story.
-cluelessclown.