AN: Thanks to Merle's for beta-reading and to gkmoberg1 for suggesting the title of the previous story "Lightning Strike"!
Disclaimer: I do not own the 'Hunger Games' series. I do own a pair of fluffy leopard socks...
It is quiet down here at this time of the day, just before the sun rises. The beach looks so much like the peaceful places she escapes to when things get too confusing or painful. No one can find her there, no pain ever reaches as far as her mind is able to wander.
She watches the calm water while it flows back and forth just a few feet away from her. The cool, moist morning air, carrying the salty scent of the ocean and the rush of its waves, brushes her bare arms and raises goosebumps along its trail. It's a bit uncomfortable but at the moment the itchy sand between her toes bothers her more as tiny, edged stones bite into her skin. She simply forgot to bring along something to cover herself with, after waking from a nightmare she is always to incoherent to think of minor details like putting on shoes or jackets, so that's why right now Annie is in her white nightgown only.
Though Mags is still not completely happy with her visiting the shore on her own Annie knows that it won't trigger anything like the older woman thinks it will someday soon.
She feels a tiny twinge of guilt because she could at least ease one of Mags worries about her by abandoning the beach for a while but she needs this little moments of freedom, what else has she left?
The nightmares are an awful reminder that no matter how safe Annie might feel physically the real danger lies within herself. Her memories are always lurking behind the next corner, waiting for her to let her guard down just one moment too long, trying to take over her head if she does so. The only way to get rid of those dreams would probably be getting rid of her head ….
She buries her face in her hands, fingers forming claws as if to rip her skin open and tightly shuts her eyes to stop the moisture from spilling over. She is so sick of crying, of feeling so vulnerable to the world, of people whispering like she isn't in the same room "crazy girl, pitiful girl, girl who should have died" and the worst part is that somewhere deep down she starts to believe it herself.
"...you alright? Aaanniiiie! Hey! Earth to Annie?"
Her head snaps upwards and for a split second she is blinded by the first rays of sunlight before her eyes focus on the familiar face in front of her. Slightly embarrassed Annie wonders how long he has called for her this time. Heat crawls up her neck and tints her cheeks a light shade of rose. Although she tries to maintain eye contact and hold his questioning gaze, of course she fails completely and defeated drops her hands into her lap where she starts to intertwine her fingers.
"Good morning Finnick, you're up early."
Annie met Finnick at Mags' after her Games. To tell the truth she didn't like him much at first, he sported a flirty smile that wouldn't reach his eyes and talked lightly but Annie always felt like something was off, like he wanted to say something else or more. She just couldn't figure him out and that made her uneasy in his presence. When his former mentor informed him that his cheeky grins and occasional winks made Annie feel uncomfortable he apologized a bit awkwardly and turned to her with a sheepish grin, stating that he would make it up by a nice walk around the beach.
Annie knew that it was probably more to reconcile Mags then for her own sake but she took the opportunity nonetheless. If The Games didn't spoil the shore for her Finnick Odair for sure wouldn't do the job either. After a few more meetings in Mags' living room and occasional walks around town, she now thinks him to be a very gentle person and more insightful than one would assume. He always manages to get to her if she sticks to her own mind, but then maybe that is only because he is the sole one who really cares to try.
He is still standing slightly left to her sitting form and a wary expression starts to spread across his face. Startled it takes her a moment to realize that he's probably waiting for her to say something else. Maybe Mags has a point to encourage her to put some effort into her social skills...Just as Annie struggles to come up with words a small smile spreads across his handsome features.
"I guess I wasn't early enough today though. Mags saw light and your open front door."
There is a short pause while he takes in her appearance. "So eager for fresh air?"
"I'm fine, thank you."
Annie hoped that he would not take her detached response the wrong way, humiliation causing the edge to her voice rather than annoyance.
At his questioning 'are-you-serious' look, Annie shoots him a sour glance.
Ignoring her stubbornness he finally holds out the item he has brought with him.
"Please take it and put it on I can see that you are cold so don't even start. It's one of mine so it won't fit but it's sure warmer than.." He waves his hand up and down in front of her, indicating the obvious lack of clothing. She raises her brows and rolls her eyes at him but nevertheless gets up to put his jacket on, decidedly ignoring the grains of sand sticking to the backside of her nightgown. Instead of handing it over as she expects him to, he holds the jacket up so she is able to put her arms through the sleeves.
When her hair is stuck under the collar she reaches up to pull it free but Finnick beats her to it. He gently takes her hair in his hands at the nape of her neck, grazing the tender skin with his fingertips. At the unexpected touch Annie holds her breath but unlike other occasions, like people squeezing her shoulders or patting her arm, its more out of surprise than discomfort. Finnick's hands actually felt quite nice.
"Thank you Finnick, that's very polite", she says with a somewhat more relaxed expression and even a small smile. "Mags would be proud of you!"
"You're welcome Annie Cresta." Taking a rigid stand he slightly bows his head in her direction and despite trying to keep up the mock formality he soon gives a carefree laughter at Annie's bemused face.
"O-kay, sometimes you're pretty weird Finnick."
Something crosses Finnick's features for a split second, enough time for Annie to notice. They lock eyes, facial expressions sober, just to burst into a fit of laughter the next moment. Annie is the first one to pick up on it.
"Yeah look who's talking right?"
He rolls his eyes and shakes his head, gesturing in the opposite direction of the sea.
"Lets head back and get Mags some breakfast. You want some of my special toast with topping?"
"If you're referring to a good inch of jam on top a defenseless piece of bread, no thanks. How can you eat stuff like that it's so sweet!"
"It's not that bad! At least try some waffles, you can put powdered sugar on it if you don't like syrup."
Walking back to the group of houses just behind the shore Annie glances at Finnick who still rambles on about hot chocolate and muffins, thinking that being friends with him is one of the rare good things in her life right now.
