This story is a continuation of Drowning, which can be found [ s/10780317/1/Drowning]. I wouldn't say that it necessary to read, but it could help quite a bit with some things mentioned. Never mind why I don't post on that account anymore; it is a long and incredibly stupid story. I hope you enjoy Riptide.

Caesar illuminated like gold. Lola was as radiant as her waving, brown eyes melting the audience. My three designers were also introduced. Charm, Tertius and Lita, saturated the praise. Finnick Odair was unsurprisingly the favourite. Suave and seductive and the crowd erupted in cheers. His Capitol behaviour was significantly different from his private self. He wore a tight silk shirt with clinging slacks. Unwavering smile. Copper hair sending hearts a flutter. Both beautiful, but more beautiful inwardly. I hardly recognised him. Mags had suffered a stroke during the Games and sat in the audience. Silent security forever more. My designer, Azula pulled out all of the stops with my outfit. I was dressed as an imposter. Bright pink gown with purple sequins that radiated blue, like a rolling tide. Blue lips and eyes. I looked Capitol. I was lost. I waved. The crowd cheered and whistled. They held a smile on my painted face.

I never saw how the female District Three Tribute died until my crowning. I remember leaving her. I left her hanging in my snare to fall prey to the cheering Careers. Speck Chrommel; she was fourteen years old. Now in the recap video I spectated how they tortured her, Pinned her to the ground. Sliced her copper hair. Played with her bruised and bloody skin until she passed out. Slit her throat. My escort, Lola Clementine, gave me a Capitol concoction to calm my nerves. It ceased my panic attacks. I wanted my nails to dig into my palms. The magenta leather gloves didn't allow it. The pressure of the crown on my head forced my stomach to my feet; blood flooding from my face. I wanted to cry.

My interview was fairly private. I was bare. "Well, Annie Cresta," Caesar Flickerman said with a wide grin. "You really put on quite a show."

Lie. I knew the odds of me being the crowd favourite was never in my favour. I knew the second I took to the stage mere minutes ago. The applause was mediocre at best. I knew they would have wanted Maeve as their Victor. Or even my partner, Rio. He sacrificed himself for me. Beheaded. I fell.

It could have been the heat of the stage lights; my mouth was suddenly dry and empty of air. My hands trembled. My impulse was to flee as I did in the Arena. Coward. Coward-

"So, Annie," Caesar interrupted my mangled thoughts. "What was it that kept you going?" It was laughable. He seemed to care. Interested in the thoughts of the murderer.

"It was my drive to win," I started, "I wanted to bring honour to my District. To be a Victor." To live.

I said what was instructed. I made no false steps. I was on a pedestal of admiration; the cameras were the windows to many eyes watching me. I resembled a marble doll. Perfected after the torment I endured. Actually I was porcelain, precious and flawed in design. I knew I was breaking. My thoughts were a raging ocean. Lightning strikes of flashbacks attempted to break through the drug. Almost successfully. I swallowed back the dry pain and continued to smile.

My final days in the Capitol were fast. Thankfully fast. I could barely comprehend them. After the Games, I hardly speak unless spoken. The memories and nightmares is like the food that I don't eat being forced down my throat. Tasteless and too much at once. Finnick had instructed everyone to keep their distance, not to push me. I was grateful, yet sad that he had to tell the, I was too much of a coward to. Mags would sit with me and read whilst I stared out to nothing. Finnick…he was busy and came back late and I only see him when I awoke from my nightmares. Adorning the same attire of thrown on from the floor clothes that I caught him in when I first arrived at the Capitol. He would only look at me and look away. Go to bed. Leaving me alone with my thoughts.

I believed that home was the best place for me to be. With my parents. In my silence I counted down the seconds to my departure back to District Four. The goodbyes were rushed and bittersweet. Azula held an arm around Lita's waist and it made me think of home. My parents. They had seen everything. Actions that would be considered criminal out of the Games. Murder. So much death.

I thought the Train would be a sweet release. The further from the Capitol, the happier I would be. I was From the car I saw Lola's attire. Red lips. Red hair. Dripping rouges and ruby contacts. - Blood. Blood. Trailing from lips, from eyes. Too much blood. They were dead. I killed them. - My heart palpitated and I crouched down to the ground in my own protective shell. Hands over my ears to silence Speck's screams. Eyes clenched to bleach Rio's head toppling from the cliff without a body. I heard the voices around me. Ready to kill me. Get away. Get away- A sharp object pierced my hip and I nearly died from a heart attack. A knife. A knife. I was dying. Dying. Dying. No-Morphling. I fell into a pair of strong and tanned arms, carrying me to the Train. My vision blurred and all went black. Not before I saw a myriad of my consciousness on the platform floor. I may have even seen parts of my sanity as well.

I awoke in a plush room. Drenched with sweat. A replica of the one I slept in travelling to the Capitol. I discovered I was dressed in expensive sleepwear. It didn't make me feel more comfortable. I had to move. My limbs were heavy and it was an effort to get out of bed. I stalked to the door and all of the lights were on and the living quarters cart was wrapped in an orange glow. Finnick was quietly talking to Mags. Their backs were to me. I realised they sat in the exact same places when Rio and I first had our Hunger Games briefing. I wondered over without a word and Finnick's words were clearer.

"Mags, I'm sorry okay? I'll buy Lola new makeup and wigs. I just believe Annie shouldn't be-" he jumped slightly as I approached.

Mags smiled at me as I sat down. Finnick just stared at me. I remembered when his green eyes scared me. They were overwhelming. He hadn't touched me since I won the Games. When he held me in his arms whilst I cried. I crumbled in his embrace. We shared a kiss. To me, it was a distant dream.

Mags couldn't talk. I knew Finnick wouldn't start. I quietly asked what the plan for the journey was and Finnick filled me in. All formalities. I nodded in reply. At this point I would have started to tie knots. Unravelling my mind and easing the tension strangling my body. I didn't have any, but I saw something new. After the Games, I was patched up to perfection and they took the callous on my hands. The callous built from a lifetime of tying knots. My lifeline. They helped my grip onto the cliff when Rio pushed me off to save my life from the Careers. They were gone. Evidence of my life from the Games was trashed. Identity lost. My chest collapsed onto my internal organs. I struggled to breathe. I rose shakily from the chair and left to return to my room. Finnick and Mags' eyes trailed me. I dropped in the hallway, sat in the foetal position and held my head between my knees. I pressed my hands on my head. I concentrated on my breathing but I felt like I was swimming under the flood in the Arena, unable to break to the surface. I can't breathe-

"Annie," Finnick's voice was distant. Just like my dreams, I was drowning whilst he stood above me and watched. Except this time his voice was a fish that hoisted me out the chilly water and allowed me to breathe again. His voice was soft and soothed my trembling. Air was no longer tangled and ripping my throat. I peeked upwards and saw his green eyes.

"F-Finnick," I uttered weakly. I felt like such a fool. I only then noticed his hand placed reassuringly on my shoulder and I flushed. I prayed that he wouldn't register my expression as I was noting his. His eyes were full of longing. They reached into my soul. Clawed at what I was before the Games and wanted to bring it to the surface. I couldn't give it to him. Not at that moment. That moment between us was so still. Blinking shattered the atmosphere and all we could do was look at each other. Matching eyes. Matching Victors.

"Mags," Finnick said and turned around his shoulder to Mags standing at the edge of the hallway. She looked liked her age for the first time. "Can you take Annie to her room please?" She nodded and headed towards us. "I'll be right back" he said and disappeared from the hallway.

Mags had given me a glass of water. She brushed my long brown hair and tied it in a simple plait to sleep in. I used to have problems with silences. It was welcomed to me now. Those quiet moments that kept me ticking. I had those with Mags. She understood me. A smile rarely left her face unless I looked panicked or about to cry. Nevertheless she was always there. She held my hand and nodded at me before she left. Fear was minimal. I sat on my bed and looked about my surroundings. I realised there were no sharp corners in sight.

A knock at my door. Finnick with one hand behind his back. He cautiously stepped in my room. I rose to my feet so suddenly that my hair fell from the plait onto my face. I tucked it behind my ear; only after I noticed Finnick's hand twitch to do the same. The room wasn't very spacious as it was only meant for short accommodations. A metre of space was built between us. He rubbed his neck and pulled out his hand. It was a black stone. The musical black stone that played the sounds of the ocean. He gave it to me before the Games to help me sleep.

"I just thought," he cleared his throat, "that you may need it again." His words were short and gentle and we reached to pass the stone. I pressed my thumb to its surface. My print glowed in a white light and as it faded, the crashing waves came to live. I was instantly transported back home. A smile glistened on my face and Finnick smiled as well. Happy to see me happy I assumed. I switched off the stone and looked up at him.

"Thank you, Finnick," I was still smiling. "Really, thank you." There was a moment of silence. A moment of us smiling. In my peripheral vision, Finnick clenched his fist. His body went rigid and our smiles died. He breathed deeply

"It's really late Annie. We should get some rest." He said. I nodded and stared down at the stone in my hand. Warm from his touch.

"You're right," I looked up. "Goodnight, Finnick."

He nodded his head slowly, averting his gaze. He wished me goodnight and left.

I would have been lying to myself if I said that I didn't want to kiss him. To feel his soft and passionate touch again. His sweet lips.

I knew it was impossible.

He was the Capitol Darling.

I was mad.

- Finnick

I sat on my bed and scrunched my face in my hands that fell into my knees. My entire being was running out of control. I was angry at what happened to her. I was sad for what happened to her. I didn't pity her. She didn't need my pity.

She needed my reassurance. I could never be there for her.

She needed my trust. I could only leave her.

I despised how I couldn't help her.

How I needed and wanted to.

I helped her into the Games, and I should help her return to reality again.

I couldn't.