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Part Two
Your mind reels as you take in everything.
You allow your mind to process all that it's just seen, and you can't possibly believe your eyes because everything was just wrong.
Why wasn't she following any of the training you gave her?
Why?
All of that valuable knowledge meant to keep her alive, all gone to waste.
You grit your teeth, unable to hide the fury that fills your veins and makes your blood curdle. She was practically screaming, "Kill me!"
Mags is next to you, sympathetic and disapproving and you hoped she didn't think this was a reflection on you and your mentorship skills.
"Poor child," she babbles whilst shaking her head, "she was never cut out for this."
Those words strike a chord within you, because you know she's right. And you know you won't be seeing that smile ever again.
You just know.
Frustration has overwhelmed your system, and there is no way to cast it aside. At this rate, Annie Cresta will be the first to go. The only thing saving you from insanity was the fact that she didn't engage in the initial bloodbath. But that was probably out of fear, not from listening to your advice.
Your body moves on its own accord, rising out of the stands and disappearing from there fast because you're not really sure you'll be able to watch this innocent girl die in such a tragic –
"Finnick."
You snap out of your gaze and turn towards the voice that beckoned your name in a soft purr.
The name of this woman won't quite reach your lips, but it doesn't matter because she's already draping her arms around you like a drunken whore, eyes hungrily ravaging you.
"How about we disappear for a while?"
The idea almost repulses you, but you've never been known to refuse a customer. After all, it's not as though you had a choice.
You nod, thinking at least this temporary distraction will allow you to vent off your frustration. And perhaps you'll have a clearer head when dealing with possible sponsors.
She practically drags you to a closed off room and she's ripping at your clothes, tearing hers off as well. You've never appreciated any of these women's artificial beauty, but you didn't have much experience with love anyway so perhaps it didn't matter.
As her hands unbuckle your belt, you catch her wrist in a quick movement, smirking slightly.
The charming façade has taken place over your swirling inner turmoil, and you keep your voice low and husky as you whisper,
"Secret first, Madame."
You compare trying to keep Annie alive in the arena to trying to grow crops in the Dark Days. Practically impossible, but by sheer luck, she's been able to lay low for a while.
The Gamemakers aren't worried about causing problems for her specifically, especially since she's so weak. No, they want to focus on the others. Despite Annie being a Career, none of the others offered her help. Even they didn't have faith in her.
When you return to your seat, Mags looks even more distraught than before. They don't flash to Annie for a while, quite possibly because there's nothing to show.
"She didn't die, did she?" you ask incredulously. Your heart rate increases just a bit at the thought.
But Mags just shakes her head.
"The boy… the boy."
The boy tribute died? You freeze. If the boy tribute died, then there's no hope for –
"He was decapitated right in front of Annie."
You freeze, mind unable to process the thought. This fragile girl, this innocent girl was just tainted forever from the Games.
No wonder they weren't flashing to her. She probably looked like a wreck.
You wish, just for a second, they'd show her. You wish you could see her face. You wish you could reassure her that it will be okay.
You're not quite so sure where this sympathy comes from, since you had to go through the same thing, but that overprotective feeling you seem to get around her surfaces, consuming your thoughts. Clouding your focus.
You're enraged at yourself for being distracted by that stupid woman. If only you hadn't gone with her, you'd have seen Annie as she went through everything. Part of you is unsure why that would help, but you just know it would have.
You could have reassured her. Although your words would never reach her, you could have…
A gift.
You could give her a gift.
But where would you even get the money? No one will sponsor her. She's too weak.
You grit your teeth. She needs someone. If she ever hopes to make it out of here alive, she needs some reassurance.
You stand, furiously, and check your wallet.
A little food would do her some good anyway; after all, she looks like she's getting rather thin.
There's sobbing and crying and dirt and blood.
You don't really care about any of it though, because she's here and that's all that matters.
She's shaking and trembling.
You want to wrap your arms around her to calm her down, but you know it won't do her any good. Besides, she has to go to the hospital anyway.
She's probably the luckiest, worst Hunger Games Victor, but you don't care because you're beginning to think that maybe there is a God up there after all.
You visit her after the hospital, wondering why you feel so driven to see her.
She's asleep for hours, mostly an effect of the medication given to her. By the time you see her, she looks just as perfect as she did on the day you met her, in that weird imperfect, perfect way that you've come to associate with her.
It takes days for her to open her eyes, and you find yourself pacing the room back and forth, waiting, just waiting for the second she'll open her eyes and look at you again with that sweet innocent smile –
But no.
She won't look at you like that.
Not after going through what she just went through.
You'll be lucky if she even wants to talk to you. After all, you were a part of the Games to her. But you only wanted to keep her safe.
When she finally does open her eyes after what seems like an eternity, your heart flutters.
The action surprises you, and you chalk it up to just being glad that she's all right.
She sits up slowly, without speaking a word. You're not quite sure how to regard her after such a traumatic incident, but you don't have to think about it long, because she's already opening her mouth.
"Fi…nnick?" she asks quietly, her voice barely above a whisper. You find yourself nodding fiercely, dashing to her side instantly and smoothing her hair back. Maybe she trusts you, you think, because she collapses into your arms and sobs against your chest for what seems like hours.
You don't dare move at all other than to rub her back in solace.
She finally pulls away, and gets this far off look in her eyes. They glaze over as if she's seeing something you can't see, and suddenly she's clutching her ears and screaming,
"NO, DON'T KILL HIM!"
She thrashes her head back and forth, and you barely have any time to react before a medical team comes rushing in and injects some poison into her system that causes her to pass out.
You're still frozen in your seat long after everyone else has left the room.
You wish you could have gotten to know her before she went insane.
After all, you were from the same district as her. How could you not have noticed her? How could you have missed her, when she stood out so brightly?
It's hard, sometimes. You allow yourself to admit that.
There are still times when she screams her head off, images of her fallen tribute's death invading her eyes. You know the image of death gets burned into your cornea the moment you witness it, and it's impossible to erase.
Maybe that's why she trusts you.
Because she knows that you went through the same thing.
Sometimes you don't understand her. Why does she choose to trust you? You're nothing special.
And yet, sometimes when you try really hard, you can make her smile the way she did when you first met her.
The first time you kiss her, she pulls away, her eyes wide as saucers. She looked utterly terrified. As she takes a step backwards you begin to think you've lost her forever and why did you just do that? You could've ruined everything.
You don't chase after her when she runs away.
The second time, she kisses you.
"I'm sorry," she murmurs hotly against your lips, causing a familiar tingle of pleasure to spike to your lower region.
You push a lock of hair behind her ear and whisper, "Sorry for what?"
She traces your bottom lip with her index finger, eyes intent on not meeting yours. "For running away." She says offhandedly, as one would discuss the weather.
"Don't be sorry. You didn't know how to react." You console, allowing her to control what happens next. You don't dare try to kiss her again, or try to pull her close to you even though your fingers are itching to touch her soft skin and bring her against you.
You don't, because if you do, she might just break.
"Still," she smiles briefly, "I'm sorry. You didn't deserve that."
You choose not to reply, because there were a lot of things you didn't deserve, yet still got. And there were a lot of things she didn't deserve to happen to her that she got, too.
"I really like you, Finnick…" she trails, a note of uncertainly lingering in her voice, "I just don't know if I'm right for you."
For the first time since she kissed you, Annie looks up into your eyes and meets your gaze evenly. You notice her eyes are glassy, and you really don't want those tears to fall, not on account of you.
"I'm messed up. I know I am. I don't want you to…"
You put a finger to her lips before she can continue to utter such nonsense.
"Don't say that, Annie. You're perfect."
She's laughing and shaking her head, saying "No I'm not", and all you can wonder is when you began to like her so much. When did she – the wimpy girl from your district that didn't listen to you – become the object of your affections? You never knew how to love before, so what made her different?
Maybe it was because unlike the other women in your life, she actually saw the real you.
At that moment, you know that there's no one else in this world that will ever make you feel the way Annie does. And it's a little ironic, because Mags kept voicing her suspicions about the two of you, and you kept denying it.
Right now, you don't want to deny it.
As you bring your hand to cup her cheek softly, wiping away the stray tear that slid down her face, you couldn't think of a better moment to kiss her.
You do, and this time she kisses you back with everything she had to offer.
It was more than enough.
Hope you enjoyed Part Two! Just to let you guys know, the story ISN'T OVER YET. One more chapter to go (:
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