Wow. All I can say is wow. This story has been up for barely 2 days, and I already have followers and favorites. Thank you guys so much, I really appreciate the support and am so happy you guys like my work. :)
"How do you bear it?" I ask softly. Finnick stares at me in disbelief. "I don't," he says quietly. I sigh through my nose, my stomach churning. "Do you…" I choke on the last words. "…still have nightmares?" Finnick nods his head slowly, his eyes trained on the knots forming and disappearing. It's only then that I notice the cuts and rope burn on his fingers, the dried blood from small gashes he never bothers to clean. This stirs something in me, adding to my growing hatred for Snow and the Capitol. He has ruined us. He has ruined me.
Unthinkingly, I reach out and grasp his hand. "Your hands…" I whisper. He doesn't say anything. He looks at our joined hands with an almost quizzical look, but I am to preoccupied with my fantasies of killing Snow to feel embarrassed.
"The nightmares never go away," he whispers. Something within me shrivels and dies, because there was a small part of me hoping my nighttime terrors would disappear, or at the very least subside. Peeta's arms can only do so much.
My hands are clammy and cold, but Finnick doesn't seem to notice. He holds my hand tighter. Under the dim light, I see a lone tear traveling down the side of his face. I reach out and place my hand on his cheek. I wipe the tear with my thumb, and smile. "Don't cry," I say softly. I have already lost Peeta. I can't lose Finnick.
I try to pull my hand away, but Finnick only grasps it harder. "We're going to save him Katniss." I don't do, or say anything. If we even do managed to rescue Peeta, his physical and mental damage due to the horrors he must be enduring might be irreparable.
I shake my head a little, in hopes to be a little more present. He gently traces his thumb over my knuckles, and I feel blush rising in my cheeks. He takes the tattered piece of rope he had abandoned and places it in my hands. "Tomorrow, we'll get you a new piece of rope. Until then, you can use mine." "Are you sure?" I ask. He nods his head. I hold it in my hands, the limp thing burning into my palm. I am thankful, but I didn't exactly exceed in knot tying at the Quarter Quell. He must notice, so he scoots behind me and wraps his arms around my torso, placing his hands on mine.
I'm sure he can notice me blushing, so he places his head on my shoulder and puts his mouth to my ear. "Am I making you…uncomfortable?" he whispers. I laugh shakily. "Of course not." I say. He laughs lightly, and I feel a huge weight lifted off of my chest. It feels good to have a friend to joke around with again.
After about half an hour of tying knots and talking with Finnick, I'm exhausted. I yawn, and rub my eyes. "Are you tired?" he asks softly. I nod my head, my eyelids struggling to stay open. Fatigue soon takes over, and I feel if I don't lie down I'm going to pass out. He places my head on his lap, and I close my eyes. My hands still obsessively tie knots, and I almost forget Finnick is with me until I feel him undoing and redoing my braid. "Do you want your rope back?" I ask tiredly. He chuckled quietly, finishing off the end of my braid. "No, I suppose your hair will have to do." I smile, and let my fatigue take over.
Sorry for the shortness, I thought this particular story would be best short and sweet. I would love to hear your thoughts and suggestions, if anyone wants me to write a story in a certain time period in the trilogy, I would love to look at your requests. Hunger Games, Catching Fire, Mockingjay, Post-Mockinjay etc... I'm kind of going all over the place with these one-shots, the last chapter being a Post-Mockingjay. Thanks for the support, I'll try to update soon!