The gory/suspenseful chapters are one their way people! And they will blow your mind.

Last Night

(ANNIE)

The reaping is tomorrow. Finnick invited me to stay at his place tonight. Britton didn't object; he knows this is important to me. So, I pack a bag with pajamas, toiletries, and my reaping dress for tomorrow. And I head over at around sunset.

I try knock on the door, but it flies right open. I remember that Finnick doesn't lock it because he doesn't think anyone's stupid enough to try and trespass on his property. "Finnick?" I call. "Fin-nick?"

"I'm in my room!" he calls. I go upstairs to find Finnick seated on his bed. "Hi," he says. "I've got quite an evening planned for us."

"We're doing something special?" I can't help but smile.

"Yes, we are," says Finnick. He takes my bag from me and tosses it onto his poorly-made bed. "And it's a long way away, so we should get going." He grabs me by the hand.

We walk across the freshly-finished bridge to South Waters. From there, we wander through the woods for a little while. Then Finnick leads me over a fallen tree that acts like a bridge, hovering above a small creek. I stumble a few times, but Finnick just tells me to relax and keep focused.

When I get off the log, Finnick tells me to shut my eyes.

"I'm not a big fan of the dark," I say quietly.

"I know," he says. "But don't worry." He stands behind me and puts his hands over my eyes. "I'm not going to steer you into a tree." We walk and walk until I think we're lost. "We're here." Finnick uncovers my eyes.

We're standing in a little clearing. There's a big checkered blanket spread in the center of it, with two big picnic baskets on it. And there are candles all over. And you can see the stars – and the moon. I can hear the creek running somewhere far-off.

"You did this?" I whisper.

"Not exactly," Finnick says. "It would've taken a while to grow the trees, and I don't know how to make candles. I didn't weave the baskets, nor did I make the blanket. The grass grows on its own accord, and the sky . . . well, I'm just lucky, I suppose."

I look right into his eyes – his beautiful blue-green eyes. His tone is light enough, but he looks nervous. "You're just a pathetic, sensitive, sweet, hopeless romantic, aren't you?" I say.

"Yes." Finnick wraps his arms around my waist. "I'm also handsome" – he kisses my cheek – "and charming" – my other cheek – "and talented" – my forehead – "and incredibly narcissistic." He gives me a quick kiss on the lips and sits down with me on the blanket.

"Why are you so nice to me all the time?" I ask.

Finnick pours two glasses of wine and hands me one. "I'm a tool. And because of that, I don't have a lot of friends." He sighs. "I guess I just like having somebody around that I can be sweet to." He unpacks the baskets, pulling out all sorts of foods.

There are all sorts of things. There's a big bottle of wine, two rolls of bread, a small round cake, some breaded fish, and yes, cheese. Cheese is a big deal because it's such a rare thing here. It's rarely found in any district besides 10, and it's almost unheard of in 4.

"Did you make all this?" I ask.

"No," says Finnick. "Mags helped with the bread and cake, and I had to call in a lot of favors for that cheese. So even if you don't like it, you have to at least pretend to."

I smile. "You need to stop doing all of this. At this rate, I won't be able to repay you."

"That's okay," he says. He doesn't say anything else, but I know he's thinking, This is an I'm-sorry-for-cheating-on-you-in-the-near-future-dinner.

When we're done, I lie down on the blanket to look up at the stars. Finnick lets me put my head in his lap. He leans back on his hands and points out different constellations. We sit there for hours. Until the candles burn down to their bases.

"You tired yet?" Finnick asks.

"I'm getting there," I say. "Why? Do you want to go?"

"Yeah."

So, we pack up the baskets with plates and fold the blankets. I decide to leave what's left of the candles behind. The journey back to the residential area is a lot faster than the way to the clearing. We don't walk over that fallen tree. Instead, Finnick finds us a way around the creek.

I go upstairs to take a shower once we reach the house. Finnick's bathroom – like the rest of his house – is incredible. His massive free-standing bathtub is more like a hot tub. And his shower could comfortably fit ten full-grown women.

I wonder if his shower at the Training Center is the same size.

It's warmed up outside, but Finnick has set a fire in the fireplace. I sit down on the couch beside him and watch the flames for a little while.

"I made you another one," Finnick says. He holds out his hand. There's another safety bracelet in his palm.

"Thanks," I say. I put it on my wrist next to two others. "What is this – the eighth one you've given me?"

"I think it's more than that," Finnick whispers. "We have to be in the double-digits by now." I look up at him and he kisses me very, very lightly. "Tired yet?" I nod. Instead of letting me walk, Finnick carries me up to his room.

His gargantuan mattress is a lot harder than I'm used to; it's difficult to get comfortable. When Finnick lies down, I rest my head on his chest. It's far more comfortable than the pillows.

I feel funny. Homesick. But not the way you'd think. I don't want to be in my house or my bed. I just want to stay with Finnick. And somehow, that emotion is closest to homesickness.

To be perfectly honest, I haven't given any real though to the Games. Those pills have done a good job of blocking it out of my mind. But with the reaping only a few short hours away, it's become reality. I can't stop thinking about it.

Two kids – probably people that I know – are going to die. They don't have a choice. Finnick is going to sleep with almost anything in sight. He won't have a choice. But what if he just forgets all about me? What if he prefers one of the Capitol women to me?

"I love you," Finnick says.

"I love you too."

He falls asleep in a few short seconds, but I'm wide awake for hours.