"I should be back soon," Finnick says while he opens the door to his house and climbs up the stairs. He just got off of the phone with the Capitol, or whoever it is that calls when they invite him to come…visit.
"When will that be?" I call after him. He doesn't answer. I hurry up the stairs and follow him into his bedroom where he's recklessly shoving random articles of clothing into his bag. "Finn?"
Finnick ignores me and slams a drawer shut with his hip, simultaneously zipping up the bag. He throws it over his shoulder and brushes past me.
"Finnick," I say, voice trembling. "Answer me."
He pauses at the bottom of the stairs. "I don't know," he says finally. "A couple days. Maybe a few weeks. However long they make me."
"Oh," I walk down the stairs slowly. "Let me at least change your bandage first."
I reach for his hand and hear him inhale sharply. "No," Finnick steps away from me. "It's fine."
"But the blood-"
"It's fine," he repeats. Not looking at me, he readjusts the bag on his shoulder and walks out the front door. "Say goodbye to Mags for me." Finnick yells over his shoulder, and the door slams shut behind him.
I lean against the banister, sliding down onto one of the last steps on the staircase, the pain I felt in my chest earlier fading to numbness.
I'll say goodbye to Mags for him. I just wish he had said goodbye to me.
"Are your lips broken?" Lana's demanding voice says.
I blink rapidly, drawing myself out of my melancholy reverie and back to reality with "W-what?"
"Your lips," Lana repeats. "Are they broken? I haven't seen you smile once in the past four days. Either your mouth is dysfunctional or something is wrong."
"My mouth isn't dysfunctional," I mutter, touching my lips self-consciously.
"Then what's the problem?" Lana asks. She scrutinizes me and her face softens. "Is it your mother? Is everything okay?"
"My mother is fine," I answer bitterly. "Or as fine as she can be, considering where she is. Not like I would know for sure, since they still won't let me see her."
"I'm sorry, Annie." Lana's voice is pitying.
"It's fine," I grunt, turning away from her to look at the sea. I can feel my focus start to dull at the edges as I remember the feel of the waves rocking against me when Finnick held me in the water. The sun was warm and-
"Annie," Lana says with the tone of someone who's been repeating themselves for a long time. "Do you want to stop weaving for the day?"
"What?" I look down and realize my hands are ensnared by rope and that I've been going through the motions of making a net this whole time. "Um, sure. If you want to."
Lana sighs. "Why don't you tell me what's really bothering you?" She pleads. I give her a look and Lana adds, "Besides the obvious."
"It's nothing, Lana." I insist. "Really."
"'It's nothing'?" Lana echoes incredulously and I nod and make an affirming noise. She rolls her eyes. "Okay, sure. Everything is fine! It's nothing! You're just in a terrible mood constantly and have been ever since Finnick-"
She cuts off and stares at me, wide eyed. I regard her apprehensively.
"Ever since Finnick left," she whispers.
My heart sinks down to my stomach. "Lana," I start to say, an excuse or a reason or a dismissal already on my tongue.
"You like him, don't you?" Lana accuses. I look away sheepishly, cheeks burning. "No, wait. This is you. You don't like him. You love him."
"Of course I love him," I say, voice straining to sound offhand and not like the truth."He's my friend."
"That's not what I mean and you know it," Lana argues. I bite my lip and try to not let my emotions show. The desire and the need and the confusion. Lana's temper lessens and she scoots close to me, a mothering look on her face. "Annie," she says gently. "I know you've heard the rumors about what he does when he's in the Capitol. Loving him…like that would be a terrible, terrible idea."
"You don't understand," I say. "It isn't… He doesn't… He isn't doing it because he wants to."
"Then why is he doing it?" She asks doubtfully.
"I can't explain it. I want to," I add when I see Lana roll her eyes. "But I can't. And I'm sorry."
"Whatever," Lana sighs. She turns away from me and gathers the jumble of ropes into her arms. "Just don't say I didn't tell you."
"Tell me what?" I questions angrily.
"That this can only end badly."
"Finnick's back," Mags says casually. I glance up from the pot of water I'm trying to coax into boiling.
"Really?" I ask eagerly. Mags gives me a peculiar look and I inspect the pot with newfound interest. "Oh…that's nice. Has he been here long?"
A small smile crosses Mags' face. "Yes," she answers. "A day."
"A day?" I repeat, surprised. I think I hear Mags chuckle. "Oh. I, uh…didn't know."
"Well," Mags says. "He's usually very tired after travelling."
"I know," I reply quickly. "I'll go see him…later. I'm, uh. I think I'll go down to the beach first. I haven't been outside in a while."
"Weren't you just outside with Lana?" Mags asks, frowning.
"Uh…" I say awkwardly, trying to come up with a passable cover-up. "You know me. I love the sun. And the beach. Will you keep an eye on this water for me? Thanks Mags!"
I'm out the door before she can say a word. The sand scalds my feet while I storm out to the beach, head down, arms crossed, not seeing anything but the ground in front of me.
"Annie!" a voice calls. I turn just as Marius crashes into me, and we both go tumbling down into the sand.
"Mar!" I laugh, sitting up. "Hello to you, too!"
"Sorry," Mar mumbles, not looking sorry at all. "I was just excited."
"Where's Lana?" I ask him, squinting down the beach. All I can see are a few boats and a lone figure grappling with a spear. A Career.
"Annie," Mar huffs. "I'm twelve years old. I can leave the house by myself now."
"Right," I say. "Sorry. I forgot."
"Sure," he says disbelievingly. The skeptical look on his face is soon replaced with a bright smile. "So guess what?" He doesn't leave me time to answer. "I talked to Finnick and he said he would help me start training because dad is too busy at the shop and-"
"Whoa, Mar." I interrupt. "Slow down. When did you see Finnick?"
"Last night," Mar says.
"When last night?" I ask, more concerned about Mar than Finnick, surprisingly.
Marius hesitates. "Late," he says finally.
"How late?" He doesn't answer. "Mar, were you sleepwalking again?"
"No," he says sheepishly. It's obviously a lie but before I have time to call him out on it, he continues talking at a rapid pace. "But Finnick found me and he walked me home and he told me about fishing and how he was my age when he started using a trident and that he would help me train because dad is always too busy working at the shop or at the vending booth or-"
"So you're saying," my voice is tinted with a seriousness I didn't think I was capable of. "That Finnick said he'd help you train for the Games?"
"Yeah," Mar says brightly. Then he notices my expression. "Annie, what's wrong?"
"Nothing," I brush past him gently. "I've got to go."
"Go where?" Mar asks.
"I'll see you later!" I call over my shoulder, already sprinting in the direction of Finnick's house. The back door is unlocked and I enter without knocking. None of the lights are on and all of the curtains are drawn, making the house seem dreary and empty. Finnick sits at the kitchen counter hunched over a bowl of soup. He looks surprised to see me.
"What," I say slowly, my lack of breath from running doing nothing to curb my anger. "Makes you think that you can just offer to train someone for a publicized bloodbath when they're only twelve years old?"
Finnick wipes his mouth with the back of his hand. Then he clears his throat and looks away from me, rubbing his palms against the material of his pants.
"I'm waiting for an answer," I grit out, fuming.
"And I'm waiting for you to realize that 'training' and 'preparing' are two very different words," he replies. For a second his bright green eyes pierce me, but then he glances away again.
"Oh, so that's your excuse." I retort. "Preparing a child for the slaughter sounds a lot better than training them for it, right?"
"That isn't at all what I'm doing," Finnick says.
"He's twelve years old, Finnick!" I yell. "He's a little kid. Six months ago he thought he could hunt fish. Now you're training him to hunt people."
"Everyone in this world grows up when they turn twelve," he says darkly, not meeting my gaze. "Marius isn't a child anymore. Allowing someone to be unprepared for something as resolute as the Hunger Games is irresponsible and sick."
"You're going to make a Career out of him," my voice breaks. "And then where will he be? Off in the arena killing people for what he thinks is glory. That's sick, Finnick. I thought you hated the Games."
"I do!" Finnick cries. "Of course I do. After all they've done – how could I not? I would never tell Mar to volunteer for something so evil and corrupted. But there is always a chance, the smallest chance that one year the odds won't be in his favor and he will be chosen and if no one helps him beforehand there is no way he can survive."
He had turned in his seat during his speech to scrutinize me, and when he finishes he looks away as if seeing me hurts him. "Mentors do all they can," he says quietly. "But it's rarely ever enough. They need help. They can't help someone so vulnerable. Everyone needs some form of training, Annie. You should know that. You trained with your grandfather until he died."
It's a slight that wasn't mean to hurt, but does so anyway. The realization of my own hypocrisy is like a slap across the face and a single tear glides down my cheek. I'm so stupid. How am I so stupid. Finnick stands up from the counter and carries his bowl to the sink. It's like I'm not even here.
"I…" I trail off, realizing I have nothing to say. Finnick glances up at me and then looks back down, almost with disinterest. I'm hit with a sudden desire to have his attention. To be held by him, or to be alone with him in the caves again. I don't know. I do my best to shut the feelings down.
A minute passes, but it feels like a lifetime. I can't stand being in the house with him for a moment, so I walk quickly out of the house, feeling as if I might explode.
As far as I know, Finnick never looked up.
Disclaimer: It's called fanfiction.
A/N: Why hello there you beautiful people. I'm sorry for not uploading in however many days...I was really busy, like, lying in bed and sleeping and lying in bed some more. It takes up a lot of time. I also haven't written the chapter after this one. So that's...not good. Poor Annie. In love with Finnick. And so on and so on. I'm not even sure what I'm saying but HEY WE'RE INTO THE DOUBLE DIGITS OF CHAPTERS NOW AND I JUST ONLY NOTICED WOOH!
okay bye.
-Kate.