A/N: Thank you so much to those who have read this and reviewed it, it's means so much to me and I happy to see that it's been well receive so far. Forgiving any errors, I'm posting this at 1:15 in the morning and I was anxious to get it up. Hope you enjoy!
Katniss stared at the large metal double doors in front of her and tried to quell the panic that was steadily rising in her chest at the thought of walking through them and looking into the harsh and accusing eyes of District Eleven.
Rue's District.
She could hear Effie's high voice speaking to her, reminding her to smile and of the cards grasped tightly in her sweaty and shaky hands, where Effie had already written and prepared the words Katniss was supposed to say today. She could feel her prep team touching up her make up, making the final adjustments to her hair, could feel Cinna adjusting her dress, fixing a hem, shining her simple jewels so they shined just right and if she focused had enough, she could hear Haymitch gulping down the liquor in his trusty flask that hadn't left his hand since they had boarded the train the night before.
But all she could see were those metal doors that were separating her from a crowd who didn't want see someone who had a hand in killing two members of their District and listen to a scripted speech about the Games and her struggle and the generosity of the Captiol.
And Rue's eyes as she laid in a mess of netting and grass, her head Katniss' lap as she struggled to hold on to the last few minutes of a life that shouldn't have ended with a spear to the stomach and the whole country of Panem watching for entertainment.
For a moment, Katniss let herself wish that Peeta was here with her, that instead of the lightweight of the notecards in her grasp, it was the heavier, warmer and sturdier weight of his hand in hers that never failed to keep her grounded and reassure her with a quick squeeze or a brush of his thumb.
And for another moment, she let herself wish that it was Peeta in her place instead of her. He was the natural charmer, with his compassion and kindness radiating from like a beacon in the dark, he was sweet and humble and he always knew what to do when it came to times like these; delicate with his words, but strong with his gestures. He gave hope to people who had never even heard of the word, let alone it's definition and he was brave in his acceptance of death and his openness to love her knowing it would only end in tragedy.
Peeta should have won the Games and Peeta should be the one standing here, offering his condolences and offering a compassionate word that was all his own and not written for him like the notecards that suddenly burned against the dampness of her palm.
"And now I give you, Victor of the 74th Hunger Games, Katniss Everdeen!"
The announcement rang loudly in her ears and brought her out of her bitter thoughts and back into present.
I am Katniss Everdeen from District Twelve and winner of the 74th Hunger Games. I am in District Eleven to deliver a speech to the families of children I had a hand in killing. Thresh. Ru—
"Showtime! Now, remember Katniss, smile nice and big and to read from the cards I've prepared for you!" Effie titters, her nails digging into Katniss as guides her closer to the slow opening double doors.
Katniss can feel the panic rising in her throat and she ignores her instincts screaming at her to run, back to the train, back to District Twelve, back to her house in the Seam and the woods and Prim and Gale and Peeta. Peeta who should be here with her, but then the doors are opening and the sunlight momentarily blinds her and she's reminded of when she first rose from the tunnel and into the arena, the blinding false sunlight and the feeling is so familiar.
But then, she remembers standing on that platform, listening to the clock countdown and swallowing any last minute panic, squaring her shoulders and focusing her mind on the Games and surviving. And just like the arena, Katniss tried to swallow her panic, square her shoulders and survive the next two weeks.
"I'm still betting on you."
Cinna's words loosened the knot in throat and staring out into the sea of worn and tired faces of the citizens of District Eleven, the notecards she held in her grasp felt like a loaded gun; if she read the words that were so far from her own, she felt like she'd be killing Thresh and Rue all over again and this time, the blood would be on her hands instead of the Capitol's. She couldn't do that to them, especially Rue.
So she tucked them into the pocket of her dress and licking her dry lips, she tried to find the words to bring some form of…compassion to these people and in some way, give them something to hold on to.
"I have no idea what I'm can to say to make your pain any easier and in my own experience, there's no amount of words that makes the pain of losing someone, diminish or even make it bearable," Katniss began, her eyes searching through the crowd and instead of the hostile gazes she was expecting, she was only met with respect, "it's obvious that two members of your District are missing and believe me when I say, I wish it wasn't because I'm alive when they so clearly aren't and the cost of their lives are, in some ways, at my hands."
Her eyes connected with a pair of women who stood in the back of the courtyard they were gathered in, on a raised platform, underneath a picture of Thresh and it cut her to the bone when she realized, at the lack of younger or older children, that Thresh was an only child.
"I want to give my thanks to the tributes of District Eleven," she said after a brief moment of silence, and once she made eye contact with whom she assumed was Thresh's mother, she elaborated, "I didn't know Thresh, I only spoke to him the one time, when he spared my life. But I always respected him. For his power and for his refusal to play the games on anyone's terms but his own."
For this first time since she'd stepped out onto the steps of the Justice Building, she made eye contact to the small family on the other side of courtyard. Rue's family. Katniss felt the pang in her chest and her eyes well with tears when she noticed her littler sister, who couldn't be more than nine, was the spitting image of Rue. Her willowy frame, her soft mocha skin, her wide, innocent eyes and her untamable curls.
"But I do feel as if I knew Rue, and she'll always be with me," Katniss could feel the knot forming in her throat, making nearly impossible for her to speak, "everything beautiful brings her to mind. I see her in the yellow flowers that grow in the meadow by my house, I hear her in the mockingjays that sing in the trees, but most of all, I see her in my little sister, Prim."
Taking a shaky breath, she wills the tears in her eyes to retreat back into her body, she's almost finished, she can do this, "Thank you for your children." Making eye contact with the rest of the crowd, she finishes, "And thank you for all the bread."
The silence Katniss is met with is stifling and she stands there, hands shaking, her heart pounding and few tears that she had fought so desperately to hold back, making there way silently down her cheeks.
Someone whistles Rue's four note song and then, slowly, as if rehearsed, every person in the crowd, in unison, kisses the first three middle fingers of their left hand and raise them silently to her.
Thank you
She hears it as if it was spoken out loud and their acceptance of her apology, of her sorrow and her thank you to them, wraps around her like a warm blanket of reassurance and for a few moments, she allows the small smile spread across her face. The unity she feels with these people, the understanding, is overwhelming in every sense and for the first time in since Prim's name had been pulled from the reaping bowl, Katniss feels at peace.
That peace, however, is ruined, when Peacekeepers in their gleaming white uniforms, make their way through the crowd, pulling their weapons, beating people with the butts of their guns, shoving them out of the way and out of the corner of her eye, she sees a Peacekeeper pull the old man that whistled Rue's song and drag him to the steps that she's standing on.
She feels hands pull her backwards, hears the wide doors being shoved open and she watches, a silent scream building in her throat as she sees through the quickly closing doors, the Peacekeeper shove the man to his knees and place the gun to the back of his head.
The closing doors to nothing to muffle the gunshot or prevent Katniss from seeing the man fall forward, the crimson of his blood staining the pristine marble steps she had been standing on not seconds before.
It was decided after the incident in District Eleven, that Katniss would read whatever Effie wrote on the notecards and nothing else.
She stuttered her way through peppy and upbeat speeches that thanked the bravery of the tributes of each District, their sacrifices so she could go back to her mother and sister and the importance the Hunger Games has on the country of Panem. She grimaced her way through banquets held in her honor and attempted to eat the food that was prepared with her in mind, but whenever she thought back to the angry glares she received at the end of her robotic speeches or the crying parents or siblings of dead tribute's, she found it harder and harder to stomach anything than the tea her mother gave her to help her with her nightmares.
Nightmares, which had not eased up at all and if anything, had gotten worse now that she was confronted with her fellow tributes families. It was a rarity for her to get a meager three hours of sleep each night. Most nights, when she had woken herself up from the screams that made her throat raw for the umpteenth time, she'd detangle herself from damp sheets and wander the train she was trapped in for the next foreseeable future.
More often than not, she'd find herself in Peeta's old room, where she'd curl up in sheets she convinced herself still smelled like him and stare out the window at the scenery that they flew past at a speed, that if she thought to much on it, made her stomach coil with nausea and the panic that seemed to have become a part of her, rise to unbearable levels.
It wasn't until they reached District Four that she got a chance to escape the company of Effie, Haymitch and her prep team and to look at something other than the four walls of a Justice Building and the train that had become her new prison until she returned home in five days time.
There was an error in scheduling, resulting in an hour of free time before she was to become a victim to her prep team for the banquet that would be held in her honor at one of the nicer hotel's in a few hours.
So when Haymitch went off in search of a place to drink in peace and Effie was busy fretting over a screwed up schedule and her prep team left to scour the District for new fashion ideas, Katniss escaped to the a place she had never dreamed of seeing in person, let alone actually getting to explore.
The beach.
While it wasn't the woods or the meadow, the wide expanse of the white sand and the rolling blue-green waves was just as beautiful. The smell of salt in the air from the sea was just as soothing as the pine from the trees back home and the soft, warm sand between her bare toes was just as comforting as cool leaves by the lake in summer.
Katniss walked the few feet to the wet sand and something like childish laughter bubbled up in her chest at the slight tickle when cool ocean water met her bare feet.
She walked the shore line, marveling at the glittering seashells she found along the way and she immediately thought of Prim and with a smile she hadn't worn in what felt like years, she combed the sand carefully with her eyes, picking up the ones she thought Prim would like, brushing the sand off of them gently, before placing them in her pocket of the mid thigh length shorts she pulled on before she left her room.
After a short amount of wandering, Katniss found a high spot in the sand and sat down, digging her shells out of her pocket and placing them in the sand in front of her to look at them closer.
She was was so enraptured by the shells, she barely heard a voice, that sounded vaguely familiar, shout her name in warning. Confused, Katniss looked up just in time to see a giant wave building, curling, before it crashed against the shore and the heavy flow of water headed straight for her.
Eyes widening in surprise, she nimbly jumped up from her sitting positon, just in time for the water to crash against her knees. However, she hadn't quite gained her footing and wasn't prepared to bare the brunt of weight of the water and with slightly panicked yelp, she found herself flying backwards, but before she could fall on her butt like she was expecting, a strong pair of arms caught her around the waist and helped bring her back into a standing position.
Caught off guard and embarrassed, Katniss stumbled away from the very warm, very bare chest of her savior, body tensing to defend herself. A warm chuckle broke her out of her momentary panic and her eyes snapped up to a pair of amused sea-green ones.
"Not even in my presence for five minutes and already, I've got you soaking wet. I must say, girl on fire, you sure know how to make a guy feel like his attention's warranted."
Bronze hair a mess on his head, glinting sea-green eyes, chiseled nose, sensual lips with the perfect cupid's bow and a long, toned, tanned body, Finnick Odair, Victor of the 65th Hunger Games and Capitol Sex symbol stood before her in all of his half naked glory, looking at her like she was the most entertaining spectacle he'd seen in ages.
Although she could feel her cheeks flush at the obvious sexual innuendo, Katniss stared unimpressed at a smirking Finnick.
"Clever," she drawled, "Do all the desperate Captiol woman fall to your feet when you talk to them like that, Odair?"
Something flickered in his gaze, but before Katniss could figure out what, it was gone, amusement back in full force.
"Some," he allowed with a nod, "but most of the time, they're so distracted by my looks, I could recite the alphabet and they'd find it the sexiest thing they've ever heard."
Katniss scoffed, "Charming."
"So I've been told, quite a few times actually." Finnick grinned, choosing to ignore her obvious contempt.
Katniss rolled her eyes and not wishing to spend not even a second longer breathing the same air as someone like him, she turned on her heel and began walking, desperate to put at least twenty feet between her and the Capitol playboy, her previous tranquil mood soured.
"Is that your way of thanking someone who just saved you from a possible drowning?" Finnick called and it irritated her to hear the laughter in his smooth voice.
"Just be thankful I didn't kill you for sneaking up on me, you of all people should know better than to sneak up on a Victor." Katniss called, turning to look over her shoulder at a smirking Finnick, who was closer than she expected.
He looked down at her, raising an eyebrow, "Aren't you forgetting something, girl on fire?"
Katniss bristled, "If you think I'm thanking you by kissing you or something, you've got another thing com—"
"I was simply talking about your impressive collection of seashells, but if you're offering, well, I'm more than happy to receive." He said with a suggestive waggle of his eyebrows.
"I think I can think of a better way to invest my winnings than wasting it on hour of your company." Katniss replied.
Finnick outright laughed, "I haven't dealt with things as common in money as years."
Katniss raised an eyebrow, "Oh? Then how do the citizens of the Captiol pay for your services?"
Finnick gave her a small smile, a glint in his eyes that made Katniss pause, her curiosity spiking. Finnick closed the few feet between them, his eyes raking up and down her body in a way that made her heart race and her cheeks warm from the attention.
He leaned down so close that Katniss could see the flecks of gold in his eyes, smell the salt from the sea and the sweat that gleaming on his tanned skin and she could feel the warmth of his breath on her cheek.
"Secrets," he whispered conspiratorially, his smile coy and his eyes dancing with mirth, "what do you say, girl on fire? Got any secrets worth my time?"
His breath was mint and pure sugar and his voice was low and smooth, seduction curling at the edges of his words and Katniss found herself slightly dizzy.
But she could see the amusement dancing in his eyes and she remembered that this was just a game to him and she refused to be like one of the many Captiol women who fell at his feet with a few whispered words and a bit of tan skin on display.
"Nope, I'm an open book," Katniss finds herself saying, pulling away from his closeness, giving her body a chance to recover from whatever momentary lapse of insanity it seemed to experience, "everyone seems to know my secrets before I know them myself."
Finnick smiled, "Unfortunately, I have to say that's true," the amusement was back in his gaze when he said, "you haven't stopped blushing during our entire rendezvous, are you seduced by me, Katniss?"
Katniss ignored the slight shiver that went down her spine at the sound of his voice, curling around her name, his tongue caressing every letter and the way he flicked his tongue across his lower lip after he said it.
"More like nauseated," she answered with a roll of her eyes, "Goodbye, Odair."
"What about your seashells?" He asked after her, thankfully not following her as she walked past him, going back over the distance she had already covered, heading back to the spot she left her shoes so she could make back to the train station before her hour was up less she face the wrath of Effie and her reminder of "schedules, schedules, schedules!"
"Keep them," She said over her shoulder, not bothering to hide her smirk, "as a token of my appreciation."
He gave her a matching smirk, and even though she was quite a few feet away, she could picture the way his sea-green eyes were glinting with amusement, "It's been a pleasure, girl on fire, make sure to save me a dance tonight."
Katniss rolled her eyes, making her way through the sand, annoyed that most of her hour of freedom was spent with a narcissistic pig who only served to irritate her and make her wish she had stayed with Effie and listen her complain in her high Captiol accented voice about schedules and lack of manners.
But Katniss couldn't deny—when she was in the safety of her bedroom, where she was banished to shower by an outraged Effie at her damp and sandy appearance, that even though another banquet filled with people she didn't want to face and forced to stomach food against her nauseous stomach's protests loomed in her near future—the lightness of her heart or the small smile that hadn't left her face since she left the beach.
Katniss shifted in her seat at one of the many elaborately decorated tables that were dotted around the ballroom of the hotel, ignoring the looks Effie was shooting her from across the table, and shifted her eyes around the room, still slightly taken aback by the grandiosity of the hall and the amount of effort that went into decorating the room.
In the other Districts, the banquet was usually a quiet affair held in the Justice Building, with just the Mayor and few other District officials and previous District Victors of the Games in attendance.
It wasn't until Effie had reminded her that, because District Four was a Career District, they went to quite the extremes when it came to their stop on the Victory Tour. Katniss' relief at not meeting the eyes of sobbing parents or hostile relatives or District citizens was short lived when she was actually congratulated one winning the games from one of the parents of the tributes. The disgust that took over was like a cancer, slowly eating away at her insides and threatening to choke her if the night didn't end soon.
She hadn't caught sight of Finnick yet, not that she would admit to looking for him and she was slightly surprised. Usually, in the other Districts, Katniss met the District Victors as she walked in, shaking their hands as if she was some form of royalty visiting another form of royalty, and then the Major would give a small speech, welcoming her to their District and congratulating her on winning the Games then dinner would commence.
The night wasn't even half over and yet she'd already met Mags—a sweet, toothless old woman who won the Games way before Katniss was born and possibly her parents, and suffered a stroke which caused her speech to be slightly garbled, but Katniss was immediately at ease with her and understood her quite well.
Katniss almost asked why Annie—who won her Games a few years after Finnick and promptly went mad—wasn't there, until she remembered Haymitch saying something about her death, that was apparently ruled as a suicide, but Katniss remembered the way he said the word, the slightly mocking edge to it led her believe that the Captiol and a certain President had something to do with it.
She was brought out of her musings when people began to get up from their chairs and head over to the buffet style tables set up on the other side of the room.
The thought of eating anything made Katniss want to vomit, but she didn't want to hear Effie give her yet another lesson on on manners. With the help of Cinna, Katniss rose from her chair and tried not to trip in the heels she was forced to wear tonight as she made her way to long tables decorated with netting that, Katniss was guessing, was supposed to make the rows of seafood look like it was caught fresh this morning.
Katniss found herself looking dubiously at a particular platter that held some sort of grey colored fish with slimy looking skin and weird looking legs, when a warm body pressed up behind hers and a familiar scent of salt and sugar overpowered the different smells coming from the table of food.
"What's the matter, girl on fire? Is this the first time you've seen a squid dead on a platter?" Finnick whispered teasingly, his warm breath fanning across her neck, his lips tickling the shell of her ear.
Katniss could feel herself flush and a warmth settle in her stomach, but she ignored it, "Are personal boundaries a foreign concept to you, Odair?"
She could feel his answering grin, "Usually the people that spend their time in my company don't mind my closeness, but you, girl on fire, seem to mind a little too much," he observed, "do I make you nervous?"
Katniss scoffed, "Could you try harder to think any higher of yourself?"
He chuckled lowly, "I already know what I think of myself," he replied, ignoring the fact that her question was rhetorical, "but what I wish to know is, what do you think of me Ms. Everdeen?"
"I think you're about as appealing as that squid." She said, ignoring his hand that had settled on her hip and the way she could feel the warmth of his skin, even through the sea-green fabric of her dress.
She met his glinting eyes—which, she noted with some annoyance, matched the color of her dress perfectly—as he moved to stand beside her, "You wound me, girl on fire." he said with mock hurt, placing his hand over his heart as if she had physically injured him.
She rolled her eyes, but she couldn't help the small smile that danced on the edges of her lips, "I'm sure you're ego will survive."
He chuckled, reaching across her to grab a plate before piling it with food, trailing after her as she made her way down the table.
"What's the matter? Is the food of my District not good enough for the girl on fire?" Finnick teased when he eyed her nearly empty plate, save for a roll with an odd green tint to it and a few shrimp.
Katniss found herself blushing, suddenly feeling self-conscious, "No," she snapped, her cheeks flushing even more when she met Finnick's oddly amused eyes, "I'm just not sure what most of the food is." she added, her tone a bit more softer.
A small smile graced his perfect lips, his eyes softening and Katniss found herself slightly uncomfortable with the amount of affection in them, "Well, in that case, let me be your personal food guide."
Finnick guided her down the table, telling her what a certain dish was called or naming a certain type of fish, pointing to it with his rather long and elegant tanned finger. He told her his favorite dishes and told her which ones to steer clear from.
It took them awhile, but when they finally filled their plates, Katniss headed back towards her table and she was surprised when Finnick sat in the chair right next to her, setting his plate down and immediately digging into his food.
Katniss looked down at her own plate and the nausea returned once again.
"I found it hard to eat at these things too, after my Games," Finnick admitted softly, making Katniss look up to his sincere gaze, "I didn't think I deserved to enjoy things as simple as food because I killed innocent children, while the people around me practically celebrated the fact that I was a murder. It took me almost a year to even use a fork because it looked too much like a trident. Every time I speared a piece of food, it turned into someone I killed."
He looked a bit sheepish at the admission and Katniss was sure she saw a blush rise to his cheeks, but she was more taken by the fact that he told her something that, to her, seemed quite personal, so casually and in a room full of people no less.
But looking around her, she noticed that people were too busy talking and laughing and gorging themselves on food to even pay attention to the two Victors whispering to each other about the horrors of their individual Games. Her table remained empty still, save for her and Finnick.
"I used to hunt, before the Games," she said, surprising herself at the admission, "I had to, in order to feed my family but ever since I returned, every time I have an animal within the sights of my arrow, they turn into Marvel."
"Was that the tribute from District One, the one who killed Rue? The one you shot with the arrow?" Finnick asked her softly, and she was thankful for his bluntness at asking the question and curious at his knowledge.
"Yes." She said, "You watched my Games?"
Finnick gave her an amused look, "I'm a mentor, I have to watch them."
"Oh," she found herself blushing, "right."
"I am sorry, by the way," Finnick said and at her confused look, "Rue." he added softly.
She gave a quick nod, looking down at the bright white table cloth, suddenly feeling uncomfortable at the amount of vulnerability she was showing at the moment. A comfortable silence settled over them and Katniss absentmindedly found herself taking a few bites of her food and her stomach rumbled softly when the delectable tastes exploded across her tastebuds.
Finnick followed her lead and began eating again and when they were done, scraping their plates and finishing off their drinks, Finnick held out his big, tanned hand in her direction.
At her quirked eyebrow, he smirked, "You were supposed to save a dance for me, remember?"
Katniss found herself smirking right back, "I don't remember agreeing to that."
"I'm sure I can get you to see things my way," he whispered with a seductive grin, his sea-green eyes twinkling with good humor.
"By threatening my life and my family's lives?" Katniss deadpanned and she mentally winced at the dark humor.
Finnick, thankfully, just laughed, "No, girl on fire, I think you'll find my tactics of persuasion much more…" his eyes raked down her body, taking in the snug fit of her dress around her chest and her waist, before his eyes met hers and she was annoyed with the way heart heart stuttered when she noticed those sea-green eyes darken, "…pleasurable."
The way his lips curled around the word made them it drip with promise and Katniss found herself rolling her eyes, "I don't dance, Finnick."
"It's Finnick, now, is it?" He teased with a raised eyebrow.
Katniss flushed, but rolled her eyes, "I would think with the amount of women who say your name on a daily basis, you wouldn't be apt to forget it."
He smirked, "Oh trust me, girl on fire, they don't just simply say my name," his eyes glinted with promise and Katniss ignored the swoop her stomach gave at the sight, "Now, even if you don't dance, it's expected at events like this and do you really want to be subject to a lecture from your escort about manners?" He asked, his voice going higher in a rather decent impression of the female Capitol accent.
Katniss could feel her resolve wavering and with a roll of her eyes, she grabbed Finnick's hand and let him lead her out to the dance floor.
She tensed, however, when his hands landed on her hips and pulled her close to his body, uncomfortable with being that close to him in a room full of prying and curious eyes.
"Relax, Katniss," He whispered in her ear, moving his right hand to the small of her back and grabbing her left hand in his large, warm one, "I don't bite."
Katniss rolled her eyes, "Unless I tell you a secret, right?"
He chuckled and she could feel the vibration of his chest, "You catch on quick, though I'm willing to count that little tidbit at dinner a secret, if you really want me to." He whispered and she tensed when she felt his lips brush her neck and at the reminder of sharing something so personal with a man she barely knows.
"The same could be said for you, Odair." She said, her words biting and cold.
Finnick pulled away from her neck and she refused to soften at the regret in his eyes or the sincerity of his voice when he said, "I was joking, Katniss, I'm sorry."
She simply nodded, looking away.
An awkward silence settled around them and Katniss remained stiff in Finnick's hold. She searched around the room, desperate to find something else to stare instead of Finnick's searching gaze she could feel on her face.
When she accidentally met his eyes again, she was caught off guard by the sincere look in his eyes.
"Have I told you how beautiful you look tonight?" He whispered and for once, instead of the usual teasing or heavy suggestiveness she usually heard in his voice whenever it involved a direct comment towards her, she heard nothing but the upmost sincerity and genuineness in his tone.
Unsure how to handle this sudden change in character, Katniss shrugged and focused on the way he moved her around the dance floor, the gentle way he swayed her to and fro, the way his hand on the small of her back was gentle and almost soothing in it's touch, and for a split second, she thought of Peeta and the way he held her when they were forced to stay in the cave, pressed up together in his sleeping bag as the steady drip of water coming from the roof of the cave lulled her to sleep.
She found herself smiling, despite herself, and when she looked up into Finnick's honest eyes, that light feeling from earlier returned full force.
"Well, forgive my momentary lapse in eyesight, because it should've been the first thing I said to you this evening," He continued, "You look breathtaking, girl on fire."
She raised an eyebrow, amused, "Don't you think you're laying it on a little thick, Odair? Someone might over hear you and think you have a crush on me."
He smirked, "That's something I've never been accused of before, Everdeen, but no, I think I'm laying on the perfect amount of thickness," and glancing down at her dress again, he added softly, "with the…familiar color of this dress, darling, one might think you had a crush on me."
His smirk widened at her annoyed expression and for the first time ever, Katniss silently cursed Cinna for putting her in this dress.
"In your dreams, Odair." Was her delayed reply.
Finnick gave her a suggestive grin, "Don't temp me, girl on fire."
With a quick spin that launched her from his body and made the skirt of her dress twirl, he brought her back in close, his lips landing on her cheek before they slid sensually over to her ear.
"It's been a pleasure, Katniss." He whispered, his tone honest and playful at the same time, her name leaving his lips in a caress that made her cheeks flush.
With another soft kiss to her flushed cheek, he stepped away, giving an over-exaggerated bow, and the last thing she saw was his sea-green eyes crinkling with the candor of his smile before he was gone.
Katniss ignored the disappointment in her gut as she walked off to find a member of her team and she blamed the dizziness on the quick spin Finnick gave her and not the way his lips felt against her skin.
Later, when Katniss walked into her room that night, she felt fatigued for the first time in a long time. But it wasn't until she was out of her dress, fresh from a shower and in the comfortable pajama's that she noticed a small, woven pouch sitting on top of the pillows of her freshly made bed.
Curious, she picked up the draw string pouch, noting the rough texture of the thick twine it was made out of and the intricate design that upon closer inspection, she knew to be a katniss flower—a rarity to find at the top of a katniss root, for which she was named for.
Pouring the contents out onto her bed, she could help the gasp that left her lips at the sight of two ornately made bracelets made from the same twine as the pouch and the seashells she had collected at the beach earlier that day. Seashells that she had left in Finnick's possession.
She noticed a small slip of creamy white paper attached to the larger of the two bracelets and flipping it over in the palm of her hand, she read it silently.
I assumed these seashells you collected today were to bring back to District Twelve as a present to your sister. I took the liberty of returning them to you, but instead of keeping them as plain old seashells that would sit on a shelf to collect dust, I wove them into bracelets so you and your sister would always have a piece of District Four to carry with you. Consider them a token of my appreciation.
Yours,
Finnick
P.S. Feel free to come and visit me any time, and if you ever feel lonely, feel free to call me as well. Safe travels home.
Katniss blamed the tears in her eyes on exhaustion of the night combined with the lack of sleep she'd gotten on this entire Victory Tour.
Carefully placing Prim's bracelet back in the pouch, she set it gently in the pocket of her bag she kept close to her bed. Looking closely at the bracelet laying on her bed, the one designed for her, she debated putting it back in the pouch along with Prim's, but then she remembered the comfort the sea and sand brought her and lightness she felt at after she'd left, the tranquility that carried through into getting primped and preened by her prep team and slid it over her wrist slowly, for fear of breaking it.
Sleep came easy and nightmare free that night.
A/N: Thank you for reading, I hope you enjoyed it! Please let me know if you think I'm moving to fast with Katniss and Finnick's relationship or if you think Katniss is opening up to quickly. I'm trying to keep them as true to character as possible, but obviously with my own little twists. And what do you guys think about a chapter in Finnick's point of view? Feedback is welcome (: