So, I have been working day and night over this since October. It originally started as a project for National Novel Writing Month (NaNoWriMo; check it out!) and I fell so in love with the story and interaction between the characters that I just had to continue it past the 50,000 word minimum. As of right now, the entire thing is three-quarters done, meaning this will get very regular updating. So, prepare to fly by the seat of your pants.

Content warning: occasional warning of suicide and abuse.

This was not the place I ever expected to find myself. This was not the situation I had dreamed of. And this was certainly not the direction my life had been going. Five years ago, I had met the perfect person. One year ago, I had been engaged. Everything had started to improve after I hit what was, at the time, rock bottom. That was not the case anymore. This was worse than rock bottom. Six months ago, the engagement was called off, I was kicked out of my family, and there was no one left in my life. I was left to figure out the rest on my own.

I stood on top of Springer Mountain, facing north and taking deep breaths to keep myself from turning around. Waiting ahead was just over 2,180 miles of forested mountains and wilderness. This was where I expected to find solace from the life that now weighed me down. I wanted to be freed of my past so I came to the Appalachian Trail.

The sign next to me marked the beginning of the trail. The stone and imprinted metal was cool beneath my touch as my hand rested on top. My mind started racing and my heart pounded in my chest as my eyes looked down at the sign:

Appalachian National Scenic Trail.

Springer Mountain.

Elevation 3782'.

Southern Terminus.

Chattahoochee National Forest.

There was no going back now; there was nothing to go back to. I took my first steps forward, scared of the unknown path ahead.

"I can't do this anymore." Johanna mumbled, placing her silverware down on the plate in front of her. She looked up at her fiancé with tear-filled eyes. For months, she had been troubled by thoughts of doubt and the realization that she no longer loved the man in front of her.

"What?" He stared at her with a confused look.

"I can't do this anymore." This time she said it with more force, more meaning.

"Do what?"

"Us. I can't seem to love you anymore. I feel lost, something is wrong. I'm so sorry." She ran her hand through her hair then pushed tears away from her eyes.

Her fiancé continued to just stare, obviously taken aback by the sudden change. "If something is wrong, we can work together to fix it."

"No. This is not a you and me situation, this is just me. I have something wrong, like an existential crisis has been storing itself inside of me and it is getting ready to explode." Her words were rushed as her heart began pounding hard, filling her with anxiety.

"I can help you, that is what-"

"No! Quit trying to fix this!" Johanna slammed her first on the table and stood up. "You cannot help me. I cannot love you anymore. I don't know why but I can't and you have to understand that this will never work again." She yanked the engagement ring off with shaking hands and placed it on the table between them. "I'm so sorry." With that, she started walking off to the front door but her fiancé stood up and grabbed her arm. She pulled away from his grip. "Do not touch me!"

"Johanna, calm down. We need to talk about this. You can't just storm out after telling me that you quit a week before our wedding."

"Don't fucking tell me to calm down. And I am not quitting. I am giving both of us an out before we end up married and miserable because one of us is not committed. Right now, I cannot talk about this more. I need time to think, you need time to think." Without another word or glance, she walked out of the house and to her car.

Nights are often filled with small terrors, taking me back through past mistakes and issues that I am still coming to terms with. Every time I thought of something I wanted to escape, my subconscious did nothing but make it all more prominent. The terrors occurred on such a regular basis that I started to fear going to sleep. It has been close to a year since I last had a solid night of sleep.

After a long first day of hiking alone, I sat in front of the tiny light that the pocket stove produced. Despite my exhaustion from day one, I could not get myself to stay asleep. My feet throbbed and back ached from the heavy pack. The terrain had been moderately rough and even though I made good pace, it still felt like I still on the same mountain that I started on. Maybe I had been walking in a giant circle without knowing it. Circling or not, the day had been slightly lonely. All the hikers I passed had been with a partner, someone to take in the whole experience with. They tried to make small talk with me, asking me questions about why I started the hike and when I expected to finish and why I was hiking alone. My unamused look was off-putting though. That was fine though, I did not want to make contact with them anyway.

But the night was worse than the stupid small talk and overload of questions. It was pitch black outside, other than the artificial light I have in front of me. The pines were dense enough to block out any glimmer from the moon but the stars above could be seen through the leaves above. There were distant noises coming from birds who were probably chirping to each other about this human below them. They would probably see hundreds of people like me in their lifetime. You can't help but wonder what they think. Why can't this human sleep? What is her problem? Why doesn't she just fly away like we do? Little do they know that I did fly away and I did it with my wings being clipped.

I sat outside my tent for close to an hour and there had yet to be a change in the sky so I went back inside in hopes to fall asleep long enough for it to be morning the next time I woke up.

Once she ran down the porch steps, she ran to her car and started the engine right away, air from her heaving breathing visible in the cold night air. The car peeled out as she punched the gas pedal down, taking off down the country road. Tears filled her eyes, making it nearly impossible to see what was in front of her. Johanna swore that she knew the road by heart though, all of the twists and turns.

Then there was a sudden blow to the car and an impact to her chest, pushing air from her lungs while slamming her back into the seat. Glass shattered in front of her and cut her, adding to the burning sensation on her forearms and face. Johanna blinked, trying to make sense of what had happened. Smoke rose from the smashed up car hood. Her right hand went to her back pocket, fumbling as it pulled out her cell phone. Her vision was still blurred as she dialed 911.

"Hello? I have been in an accident… I don't know… Yeah. I think I hit a deer or a fence. I don't know… air bag, windshield broke…" She gave the best street details she could and hung up, dropping the phone in the cup holder next to the seat. A chilling breeze rushed in from where the windshield once was. "Fuck. FUCK!" The words kept repeating from her mouth, becoming drawn out and hoarser every time. Her fists beat the steering wheel as her body shook with anger and shock.

Paramedics arrived several minutes later and assisted her from the car, to the ambulance, and to the hospital. She sat on the bed and only talked when questioned. Otherwise, there was no reason to talk. Hours passed before they let her leave with a line of stitches in her forehead and bandages wrapped over the slight burns on her forearms. No one had picked up their phones when she called. No one visited her or came to the rescue. She tried to accept that this was how it was going to be but she made her way to her mother's house anyway.

I involuntarily woke with the sun to ward off the night. The sooner it was done the better. I lay there in the tent, tucked into my sleeping bag, shivering from the cold morning air outside. It was crisp and welcoming though. The air was fresh with dew over the leaves and trees, giving the entire forest a strong earthen smell. Unzipping the bag and pulling back the top brought in more air so I fumbled through my pack to get to my fleece jacket, yanking it on with gratitude for its warmth.

My neck was stiff and my body was sore from the previous day which made getting out of the tent difficult. I slowly stood up and groaned from the effort. Once my feet were below me, I started the pocket stove and began to boil water for oatmeal. It was one of my least favorite foods to eat; the texture was awful and slimy but the lightness made it easy to pack on the trail. With much defeat, I accepted that I was going to eat it and with that, it would become either my most loved or hated breakfast after this trip.

Letting the water boil, I walked off to relieve myself and grab my hanging bear bag with the food in it. As I walked back to the small site, there was a moment when I stopped and realized that I was in silence. The morning was filled with nothing but the crunching of my footsteps on leaves. This was something I had not heard in an incredibly long time and it felt great. No one was here directing my life, just a path suggesting the way. Even the birds were quiet this morning. If the next six months were going to be this peaceful, I was confident already that I never wanted to return to reality. The soreness would go away eventually.

Upon my return, the water was boiling. I made my food, ate it with some struggle, and quickly cleaned and packed up. I splashed water on my face and pulled my hair back into a small, tousled ponytail before pulling the pack on and clipping the buckles. My small tomahawk ax was strapped to my belt.

Once back on the trail, I made pace to stay ahead of schedule. The sun was beginning to rise over the taller ridges in the distance and the warmth began pushing through the trees. A breeze kept it chilly out though so I didn't bother to remove my jacket. As I admired the distant mountains through the trees, a large rustling noise came from my left. Quickly, my hand unbuckled the ax holster and rested on the head of the weapon, ready to pull it out in attack.

A tall man popped out from the thicket and stumbled onto the trail. His hair was blonde and disheveled as much as mine. He was very handsome, gorgeous almost, and tan. It was almost like he could only be described in a romance novel. A classic look.

"Ah, an axe murderer." A large grin pushed across his face as he turned to face me.

"Who are you?" There was no way of knowing if I could trust him. He seemed friendly enough but after my experiences, trust did not exactly come as second nature. There are plenty of reasons to trust people, but it takes more of those reasons to offset one reason not to trust someone. And often enough, it only takes one person to ruin it for the rest of humanity.

"Finnick Odair. And you?" He stepped towards me and extended a hand to shake.

I slowly moved my hand from atop the axe and accepted the gesture. "Johanna Mason."

"Mason. A strong last name, though the ax could tell anyone that. Where are you from?" His disposition never ceased of being warm.

Again with the annoying small talk. "Why do you want to know? If you don't mind, I'm going to continue on my way." He stepped aside as I pushed passed him and picked up the pace of walking, hoping to get back to being alone but there were steps behind me.

"Running late for a meeting?" He was effortlessly keeping up with me, his stride obviously larger than my own. It probably took two of my strides to keep up with his one. "Is it an important meeting? Would they mind if I joined? Should we have dressed better? I didn't exactly pack a tie…"

"Stop!" The word jumped from my mouth before I had time to think about it. I whipped around and stopped Finnick dead in his tracks. "I'm not here to make conversation. I'm not here to make jokes, and frankly, yours suck. And I'm not here to be picked on by some silly little man who barged through the woods. I'm here to be alone. Now, stop bothering me. Go along your own way."

He simply nodded at my outburst before grinning with a white-toothed smile. Everything about him was perfect and it was annoying. "Silly? Yes. Little? Not so much." He winked with the same grin. I groaned from the self-preservation he provided.

All of my patience was already gone. "Really? That's what you have to say to that?" I turned on my heel and took off walking again, agreeing with myself to just ignore him until he went away. It worked on animals and small children; certainly it would work on him.

Finnick simply followed though. His persistence was slightly admirable but mostly annoying. "You know, you can't just literally walk away from your problems. That's not how this works. You have to face them and that's why people come out here, to face what they are walking from. It's not just accomplishing going from point A to point B, it's figuring out where your puzzle piece fits in this world. Mason, it's a big world and you are but a single human on this mountain ridge."

My stride never faltered as I tried to hike away from him. "You are my problem right now and I can very much walk away from you. And when did you become a philosopher?"

"You can walk away from me but you're not going to get rid of me until you face me and tell me you don't want me to hike with you anymore. And I became a philosopher the first time I finished this trail."

There was silence between us for a minute as I thought his words over. "Why are you hiking it again?"

"Perspective. I went southbound last time, now I am going northbound." His voice was filled with optimism, making it obvious that he was a pathetic romantic.

But I rolled my eyes at his reasoning. "Perspective. What a joke."

"You say that now, but just you wait and see what I mean. There is something in these hills that change you." He tapped my pack with one of his metal hiking sticks and we continued in silence. And we stayed silent until we stopped for a water break, sharing the sitting space of a large rock. Finnick looked over at me. "I'm guessing you just started the hike?"

I simply nodded as my vision took in the forest. It was a continuous stretch of pines and oaks and small shrubs lining the trailside. Leaves and pine needles covered the forest floor. Maybe if I entertained his questions he would leave me alone. "Second day."

"Second of many. What brings you to challenge the mighty Appalachians?"

My gaze shifted towards him and I found him staring at me with intense interested. Finnick seemed to actually want to listen to every word I had to say. Maybe I could let him in to some personal details just a little. "Um, just about everything. Things felt like they were collapsing so I came out here for fresh air. I guess I'm hoping to wipe the slate clean."

"Well, there is plenty of fresh air here if that is what you really came for."

We took several more sips of water. "I'm from Washington, by the way."

"State or D.C?"

"State, isn't that a given?"

"It gets confusing on this coast. People call D.C Washington and sometimes you don't know if they mean the state or district. I'm from southern California." We smiled at each other, silently acknowledging that we were both from the west coast.

"SoCal. Are you one of those gorgeous surfers that the idiot beach ladies watch all day long?" I winked and raised my eyebrows suggestively. He smiled and reciprocated the look.

"You only wish I was, Mason. They do watch me and follow me around on the beach but that is not what I am after. I want to find that true love; that passionate love where you can't bear to be apart from that person and you know it's the same for them." Finnick took a deep breath and put his water bottle away, throwing his pack onto his shoulders. His reaction showed that there was something deep below the surface of this cheery man. Something that flawed his near perfection. "How about I lead the way for a bit? I got tired of staring at your ass, you can look at mine now."

Once again, I rolled my eyes at his ridiculous statement. "My dreams come true." I had to admit that it was nice to finally be around someone who joked with me. My ex-fiancé and his friends were always serious and when they did make jokes, they were far from funny, majority of them being misogynistic in nature.

We hiked quietly for a long time. It gave me a chance to take in the wilderness again. The terrain had been easy with only a slight incline the entire morning. Tall grasses lined the trail as well as sparse trees. Every now and again patches of random flowers would appear: Columbine, Bluets, Trillium. I would point them out to Finnick and he would listen with such intensity every time. This is what made me like him. No one ever listened to me. Now that there was someone, I started thinking twice about hoping he would leave me alone. Not even twenty-four hours into knowing him, I needed him to stay because I needed a person that would stay and listen.

"So, what was collapsing?" Finnick's voice broke into my thoughts.

It took me a minute to remember what he was asking about. With much effort, I decided to engage in the conversation. "I broke up with my fiancé a week before our wedding."

"Wow. Did not see that one coming."

"Neither did he."

He snorted in amusement at my comment. Maybe there was finally someone that enjoyed my wit just as much as me. "Why did you cut it off?"

This was a question I was still trying to find a complete answer to. "So far I have two reasons: I no longer loved him and I figured out that yes, I like guys but I don't want to be in a long-term relationship with them. If I am going to marry someone, I want it to be a woman."

I could see him nodding his head as I hiked behind. "Two perfectly acceptable reasons. When did you meet?"

"I met my once fiancé during our freshman year of college and we were together for a while and then it just seemed like I couldn't do it anymore." Finnick made a humming acknowledgement and nodded once more. Again, there was a silence and I took the opportunity to congratulate myself on actually conversing with someone.

As I looked around, I realized that it felt natural being there. No one expected anything; there was no agenda other than getting to my mapped out checkpoints. And Finnick seemed to feel the same though I guess he loved the ocean more than the woods. "So, you came looking for that true love in the mountains?" I teased at him a bit but he replied in a more serious tone than expeced.

"You never know what you will find here. I mostly came back here to be with people who understand what I am doing here."

"Understand what?" Just like any other self-proclaimed philosopher, he was far from clear.

"Why the hell would someone want to leave everything behind and hike over twenty-one hundred miles?" We both started breathing heavily as the terrain began cutting back a forth, elevating on the side of the mountain. "Leaving everything you have is hard. You know that part, obviously. Once you get out here though, you question why it took so long. Everything out here is easy. You wake up, you hike, you eat, you hike, you eat more, you sleep. Everything out here is the pure basics of life. Instinct and survival." His explanation left me speechless, mostly because it made perfect sense and it put into words what I had been thinking all these years but was unable to put into words.

Our conversations were intermitted so the next few hours were filled mostly with just forest noise and the occasional chatter of day hikers that came and went. Both of us understood the pleasure of silence and that was what ultimately led to me deciding to keep him around. Finnick created company without the need or pressure to always have entertainment. The more we small talked though, the more I wanted to know about him. What did he do back in California? What was his family like? Who was he off the trail?

As the sun began to set, we agreed to set up camp and once we found an area off the trail, we both sat on the ground and started making our dinners. Ramen noodle packs were a basic necessity due to their light weight but mostly I looked forward to the carbs and salt.

"Why do you carry the ax?"

"My dad was a forester so I grew up with it. Figured I would need some sort of protection, so why not something I'm proficient at using?" My fingers slid across the holster absent-mindedly as I thought about my father. He would be proud that I was out here trying to rewrite my future.

Finnick continued talking, mostly asking me about tree species and obviously taking mental notes. Night fell quickly and ended our talk as we moved to our respective tents. I lay down and waited for the usual thoughts to invade my mind. They were persistent even when I was exhausted.

"Johanna! What are you doing here? It's the middle of the night. You're going to wake your sisters!" Her mother stood in the front doorway of the house in a robe and slippers, hand on her hip. She had been woken from her sleep and her voice was filled with irritation. And Johanna knew that her mother preferred to never see her again.

"Not even going to act concerned about the stitches on my face or anything?" Johanna locked eyes with the woman, both of them challenging each other. It had always been like this between them. Johanna was a rebellious child who never abided by her mother's views. "I guess not. We called it off. I just wanted to come here and get some sleep." She wished the woman would move from the doorway so she could go to her old room, the now guest bedroom.

"What do you mean you called it off?"

"I am no longer engaged, that's what I mean. Now, can I come in and get some sleep? We can talk about it in the morning." Johanna stepped forward but the doorway was blocked more.

"Does this have anything to do with you being one of those people?" The words felt like venom being spit in her face. Johanna's father had been a very relaxed man, accepting who his children were and only wanting the best for them. Her mom, on the other hand, was the opposite and grew up with a strict upbringing on following certain ways and she trickled it down to her children. Johanna had no idea how her father had dealt with this bitch of a woman.

"Part of it is because I am bisexual, yes. Now let me in, please."

"No ma'am. You will not step another foot closer to this house. I do not want you influencing my children with your horrible ways."

"You're children? You mean my sisters? I have every right to be around them. I am your child too, if you remember. Just let me inside!" She moved forward but the mother shoved her, sending her stumbling backwards on the porch.

"You listen to me, Johanna. You do not come near this house again. I do not consider you my child. Any child of mine would never be as vulgar as you. You are rotten, you are a bad influence, and you are the reason why your father killed himself. I want nothing to do with you. And if you don't get out of here, I will call the cops and I will make sure you are arrested and never able to come back here again." The woman had deepened her voice and was pointing an accusing finger at Johanna.

Rage built inside of her and she grabbed the woman, pinning her against the door frame. "You're the bad influence and we both know his death was no else's fault but his own, so do not put that on me!" Johanna locked eyes with her mother. "You are a heinous, disgusting bitch. Go ahead and call the cops, I dare you." She let go and just as she was turning to walk away, a hard slap landed across her cheek.

"Go to hell!"

Johanna was unaffected by the sting on her cheek, used to her mother's abuse. "I'll see you there." She hurried down the path to the driveway and made her way down the sidewalk, shivering from the cool air and lack of jacket. Her hands pushed deep in the pockets of her skinny jeans. There was nowhere else to run; there were no friends or extra family to fall back on. This was only the beginning of what lay ahead.

Her feet led her to the main street shopping strip just a half mile down the road. Neon store lights and street lamps lit the way, pushing her in and out of shadows. There was a bench just outside the park that she took a seat on. Everything was starting to happen too quickly. All of her life she had been a slight outcast. Once her father died, she completely shut down. He was the only person who completely understood and loved her for what she was: angry, depressed, abused. He made her mother go to therapy in hopes to save their marriage and to help her manage the obvious hatred for their oldest daughter.

None of it helped though. After he committed suicide a few months before her eighteenth birthday, everything got worse. She slept with the door locked and a light on, her father's tomahawk near the bed. She took the abuse though if it meant keeping her mother from potentially harming her two younger sisters. The woman never laid a hand on the younger girls though. That made Johanna less nervous to move out when she went to college purely to escape.

Her eyes filled with warm tears and she inhaled the cold air sharply, exhaling to watch the air come from her mouth. At this moment, she felt like a stranger to her own life and there was no way of introducing herself back in to it. It was foreign and unknown. Nothing was ever going back to normalcy after tonight.

A siren broke the silence, followed by two others. Three cop cars pulled up with their lights flashing and cornered her. "Shit. That fucking bitch." Knowing very much who did this and why, she stood up and waited for an officer to approach. But no one ever came up to her.

Johanna looked around and realized the cops were guarding themselves behind their car doors with guns pulled and ready. "Are you serious?" She shook her head and chuckled in anger. When she moved, the officers became more protective.

"Put your hands up. If you have anything in them, drop it to the ground now."

She sighed and put her hands in the air, showing her palms to them. An officer walked slowly towards her, gun held by his side. Johanna rolled her eyes. "Can you not approach me with a gun? I'm not going to resist or give you a reason to use it."

He hesitated before placing the weapon back in the holster on his hip. "Down on the ground, now." She did as instructed. He patted her down and pulled her left arm behind her back. "I am placing you under arrest for breaking and entering and for assault." The officer stated her rights but she didn't hear any of them, all of it being blocked out by the furious thoughts rushing through her mind. If her father was still alive, none of this would be happening.

By time I emerged from my tent, Finnick was already outside and eating. His smile greeted me and I did everything I could to give him some form of a smirk in return. A bit of facial hair was starting to show up along his jaw line and cheeks. All I could think of was how ridiculous he was going to look with a beard. No man as gorgeous as him could look good with the beard of a mountain man.

"Good morning, Axes. How'd you sleep?" He took a bite of his breakfast and I could tell that he was asking out of concern. There is rarely a night where I don't talk or scream in my sleep but he didn't need to know that. He was a stranger and strangers don't deserve to know that intimate of details. Instead, I decided to veer the topic.

"Axes? What is that supposed to mean?" A spot in the underbrush across from him made for a comfortable seat as I distracted myself with making oatmeal. To think I once hated the shit; now I craved it because it no longer mattered what I ate. I just wanted food to settle my growling stomach.

Finnick chuckled and looked at me with a flawless smile. "Everyone on the trail gets a trail name. I've decided that yours is Axes, because of, well, the ax." He obviously thought he was clever.

I didn't look up from making my meal. "And what is yours?"

"It is super lame."

A small exhale of laughter escaped my mouth as I immediately thought of a snide comment. "Super lame is a good name. Very strong." I looked up to find him staring at me with an amused grin. Did he ever wipe the happiness off his face? It was starting to get annoying and disconcerting.

"Ha… Ha…. My super lame trail name is Water Guru."

I nearly choked on my spit at his trail name. The laughter continued to push through until I was gasping for air with tears filled my eyes. My sides began to cramp up. "Super lame is a better trail name than Water Guru. What the hell is that?" I tamed my laughter into a mild chuckle. Finnick was very much amused by my reaction.

"Nice to see you know how to laugh. I know it is awful but I have nothing else to change it too." He shrugged and continued eating.

I wiped the tears from my eyes and started stirring the now hot water into the oatmeal. A few minutes passed as we both ate. "What about a new name relating to water? What about something that matched mine?"

His eyes narrowed. "Are you suggesting we get matching names and continue hiking together?"

"And what if I am?" My eyes challenged him as the stupid grin reappeared on his face.

"Trail names are like tattoos. They stay with you the rest of your life. You are essentially suggesting we get matching tattoos."

"Quit being overdramatic. Tattoos can be removed or covered with new ones so yes, I am suggesting you change your trail name to match mine." I rolled my eyes and stuffed my mouth with the disgusting instant slop. The texture still made me want to gag.

"And what do you suggest, my dear Axes?" His sarcastic overtone made me grin. I was not attracted to him, but his cunning wit and sarcasm made me happy. It was nice to have someone who spoke my kind of language.

"What about Trident or something?"

He stood up abruptly with excitement. "I love it! To this day forward, I will be known as Trident. Now, let's get going. Finish eating and I will pack up your tent." At least one of us was a morning person. I finished my food and we picked up the area, making sure we left minimal evidence of being there.

The morning went by quickly but soon turned towards the worst after lunch as we watched storm clouds develop over distance ridges. The clouds were ominous and moving fast towards us, shifting the large curtain of rain in every direction. Every few minutes a bolt of lightning sent thunder booming through the sky.

As we reached the peak of a ridge, we both stopped and looked out at the storm. Wind started pushing hard and the trees around us started to sway. Finnick took off his pack and started to pull out the waterproof covering and I followed suit. I also took out my rain jacket and zipped it all the way up, not really wanting to be touched by rain.

"We should probably get off this ridge soon." Finnick stated, looking back out to the storm system.

"Why do you say-," a crashing noise interrupted my sentence and a vibe of electricity was sent through the air, causing the hair on my arms and neck stand at attention. "Yes. Let's get the fuck out of here." Without another word, I took off running down the trail. I was not comfortable with getting electrocuted by lightning, let alone walking in the rain. The thought of it made my stomach lurch.

My feet moved fast and Finnick was right behind me, keeping up with his larger stride. Rain started initially falling drop by drop but became a steady downpour soon after. The dirt started to become mud which caused me to slip and fall backwards. Finnick pulled me off the ground and pushed my momentum back down the hill, almost sending me tumbling forward. He tripped soon after me, his foot catching a tree branch I had managed to avoid. I turned around and pulled him up.

We ran down the hill until we came upon a stone building. The path went right through it, going underneath a roof. As we stopped under the cover, I leaned over and gasped for air. My lungs were aching but I could not suck up enough air to make them stop. I had just run from lightning. Every time it sounded in the distance, my body shuddered with anxiety.

A door to the building opened and a man with a bushy beard walked out. He was wearing hiking attire and a nametag. "Hey! You two just escape from the rain?"

Finnick stood up straight and nodded. "Yeah. Just ran down from the ridge. I hate to be forward but do you know any way to get to town so we can check into a hostel and dry off?"

"Sure, no problem! Is she okay?"

I tried to stand up in response to his question but the stitch in my pain wouldn't let me so I stayed bent over. "I'm okay." As soon as the bearded man went back inside, I threw my pack off and collapsed to the ground. My shorts were drenched and stuck to my already cold and mud-covered legs. I closed my eyes and tried to calm the anxiety but the sound of the rain did not help. My stomach ached. My eyes closed even tighter as I tried to block everything out.

"What's up? You don't look okay." I opened my eyes to see Finnick kneeling in front of me.

"It's nothing. I just don't like water all that much." Our eyes met, mine pleading for him not to ask any more questions. He knew there was something more but he accepted my answer.

"If you need help, I'm here for you the next two thousand miles. Got it?" He patted my shoulder before standing up. I gave him a simple nod and thank you.

The bearded made returned with car keys in his hand. "Alright. My car is just around the corner." We jogged through the rain and threw the bags in the trunk once we got to the car. There were towels for us to sit on in the backseat as he drove us down the road to a nearby hostel. With a wave goodbye, he drove off as Finnick and I walked inside. I was shivering the entire time we checked in and got escorted to the room we were apparently sharing with another girl who had arrived an hour earlier.

When we walked in, she was sitting on the bottom of a bunk bed, reading a well worn book. She looked up and met my stare with gray eyes. Everything within me stopped. The ticking in my mind from the rush of anxiety was muted. My body's shivering was filled with warmth. My heart and mind reset itself so they finally worked on the same plane again. It took everything in me to look away but still my eyes averted back to hers.

"Johanna?"

The voice snapped my mind back to reality. "What?" The word came out in a snap, sending both Finnick and the girl to have confused looks.

"I was just introducing you. Johanna, this is Katniss." His hand gestured to the brunette with a long braid resting on her shoulder.

"Katniss? As in the plant genus Saggitaria? Thought to be named after Sagittarius because of the typical arrow shape of the flower." I didn't know where the word vomit came from but it fell out of my mouth and I instantly regretted it. But she seemed to enjoy it.

"How do you know that?" Her voice was deeper than I was expecting, with some scratch to it. Dark eyebrows raised in curiosity as she looked at me.

"I went to school for natural history and forestry. Why, do I look like someone who wouldn't go to college?" My unintentional anger reared its ugly head but I shrugged it off as I walked to the bottom bunk across the way from her. I unbuckled my pack and pulled out fresh clothes. They would both soon learn that I had zero modesty.

With some struggle, I yanked my water-logged shirt off and threw it on the floor, soon followed by my sports bra, hiking shorts, and underwear. Finnick looked up from digging through his bag and smiled with amusement. His eyes shifted to Katniss and I wondered why, so I turned around.

There was a look of terror and unease across her face. Her eyes looked me up and down but I pretended not to notice for her sake. This was a moment to take advantage of though. I leaned against the side of the bunk bed and grinned widely at her, more than confident with my body being fully visible and leaving nothing to the imagination. "So, Katniss, are you good with shooting arrows? Your name suggests so."

Her face looked down at her book once I acknowledged her. "Um… yes. Very good."

"Very good? Are there any other things you are very good at?" My grin only became wider the more she blushed and became visibly uncomfortable. It was endearing watching her squirm with very obvious innocence.

I glanced to Finnick and he looked at me, giving a look of 'enough is enough'. With a roll of my eyes, I pulled on the dry clothes and took the wet ones to the dryer down the hall.

Johanna sat in the chair as the police officer dabbed her fingertips in ink and rolled them across a stock card. The jail was quiet this time of night, or early morning, depending on who you talked to. Her booking was finally done and they escorted her down a row to an empty holding cell.

"You will stay here until we get further notice on where to put you. Get comfortable, you won't be moving soon." The officer pushed her into the cell and slammed the door behind, locking it before walking away. Her hands were now cuffed in front of her. They refused to let her out of them because of the assault charges.

She sat on a bench and leaned against the hard wall behind her. This was not the first time her mother called the cops on her for something but all the other times she managed to get out of being arrested. A large exhale escaped from her with realization that no one would meet her bail and that she was bound to end up serving time. The system was screwed up and her mother got away with a lot because of it.

There was a pressure on my shoulder that sent me to roll over and grab whatever it was. I had become a light sleeper out of fear of my mother. What I grabbed tried to jerk away but my grip only tightened. My eyes flew open and the silhouette of a girl with wavy hair fell into my vision. Katniss. I released my hand after noticing the slight fear in her eyes. "Sorry."

She rubbed at her wrist and looked down at me now with concern. Her voice was soft as she spoke. "You were tossing and talking loudly. I just wanted to make sure you were okay."

"I'm fucking fine. Leave me alone, brainless." The words came out mean but defense was the only mode I knew well in moments like these.

"Okay. I'm sorry I woke you." She left after the apology, irritation obviously filling the air. Why did she care? She didn't know me so there was no reasoning behind it. It's not like I was an integral part of her life.

I sighed and turned over to face away from her, falling back asleep after willing myself.

There were no more disturbances until the morning when Finnick dropped my bag on top of my feet. I jolted up and looked around.

"Calm down, crazy. The hostel owner made breakfast so get up and get dressed. I'm hungry." He walked out of the room as I pulled my fleece jacket out.

Pushing my hair out of my face, I looked over and realized Katniss was gone already. Great. I would never see her again and my last words to her were "leave me the fuck alone." It felt like a piece of me deflated, even more so when I looked out the window and realized it was still raining. This trip was getting miserable very quick.

We managed to hitch a ride back to the trail. The middle age couple that helped us out probably thought we were the oddest couple. Finnick had been dancing on the side of the road to direct attention to us while I stood with my hands in my jacket pockets, looking like a miserable dog someone left in the rain. We thanked them and they gave us each a ten dollar bill, calling it a well wish and trail magic.

"Do you often get tipped for your dancing?" I looked up at him and managed to smirk when he nodded.

"You would be surprised. I'm a great dancer. That act on the side of the road was simply a warm-up." He gave me one of his signature perfect-teeth smiles. "Maybe I'll show you just how good I am later."

I shook my head. "How many girls have rejected you?"

"Only you. You, my sweet axe-bearing princess, play hard to get and I do like a challenge." He winked and started off down the trail, obviously wanting to have the last words.

I jogged to catch up with him. "Don't call me princess ever again!"

"Why not? You can call me prince charming if you want." He started chuckling at his own joke as I groaned with frustration.

"You are not charming. If you were charming, I would have let you into my pants by now." It was the honest truth, mostly because I craved any form of intimacy right now.

"So, you're saying I have a chance?"

An amused grin grew on my face. "You will have to try very hard, my gorgeous King of the Sea." Finnick was fun to mess with.

"Did Katniss seem a bit of a prude?" The topic change was sudden and the mention of her name sent my stomach turning. There was a good possibility that was also related to the rain.

"Did you see how red she turned when I was naked? It's not like any of us haven't seen a naked body before."

"I was intimidated, not going to lie. You have a very stunning body. Nice abs. Makes me feel ashamed of my own." Finnick glanced over his shoulder at me.

"You just earned yourself a gold star. Only a few more and you may just earn yourself another peek." I bit my lower lip and raised my eyebrows at him when he glanced over his shoulder again.
"Doubt it. Was it just me or were you instantly smitten with her?" There was a teasing tone behind the question.

I thought about his words and decided not to answer. Instead, I listen to the rain against the hood of my jacket and willed away the anxiety building inside my chest. Maybe it was best that the conversation continue. "I've not smitten. I don't get attached to people very easily."

"Are you saying that you are not attached to me?"

"Not one bit. I could leave you right here and now and not think another thought about it."

"Now, I find that difficult to believe. You have kept me around for some reason."

"I'm not the attached one, you are though. You're the one that followed me when we crossed paths." This silenced him for a minute while he thought of a reply.

"You are brutally honest." There was a hint of hurt in his response.

I shrugged it off. "Why else do you think I don't get attached? I have no one to get attached to because I'm too honest for everyone." It was true. No one liked my honesty and they were all too afraid to call me out on my bullshit. It was only a matter of time before Finnick would get tired of it and dismiss himself as well.

He objected though. "I won't leave. I like you and it is refreshing to be around someone with no inhibitions. Now, tell me some facts about oak trees." It's like he knew when to change subjects. Just another reason to keep him around.

I thought about his request. "Well, they are very important trees, especially on the Appalachians. Oaks carry acorns, which are a food source for birds and mammals, you know, bears, deer, and I believe quails. There are two major groups: red oaks and white oaks. The red oaks have pointed lobes on their leaves and the white oaks are the rounded leaves. They are very easy to identify, as well as the pine and birch."

"Fascinating." I watched him gaze around before pointing to a patch of grass and flowers. "Those are Bluets? Tell me about those."

"Yes." Finnick was a quick learner. Telling him facts was fun and I enjoyed the game, though it was becoming obvious that he figured out that I needed distraction from the rain. "Latin name caerulea, meaning sky blue, which describes the color of their four petals. They have a yellow eye in the center. Often found in grassy patches, like what you pointed out."

He stopped and pointed to a flower we had yet to pass. "What is this and why does it smell?"

I chuckled at his comment. "That is trillium, probably the most common spring wildflower. There are many species and they always have sets of threes. Three petals, three sepals, three leaves. That disgusting smell is used to attract carrion flies to help with pollination."

"I would not pollinate anything that smelled like this." Finnick scrunched his nose and continued down the muddy trail.

"You would be a very picky fly, wouldn't you?"

"Not picky, just in search of the right flower." I imagined his eyes looking dreamily ahead.

"Did you just make being a fly a romantic thing? You're disgusting." I laughed to myself and looked around, realizing that the rain had cleared up. The sky was still dull with gray clouds threatening to rain more but for now my shoulders relaxed in relief.

The next three days went by quickly. We met other hikers at the trail shelter and hostel the first two nights. The terrain moved up and down but the ridges always boosted beautiful views of the mountains surrounding us. Finnick and I discussed random things, mostly anything that was not about our personal lives. He told me stories about the surfing competitions he had won and how he dropped out of school to become a fisherman. I told him all about forestry and stories about my dad and I going camping. He knew my father was dead but I didn't tell him what exactly happened and he never asked, but out of obvious respect, not disinterest.

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