A/n: My sincerest thanks to: anchor at sea, madthesaxon (FF wouldn't let me put the periods between each word for some reason- sorry about that!), honey sweet lies, alwaysreading25, Amanda, and FlyWolf for the reviews! I promise I'll be replying to every review once this story is finished :) And nowwww FINALLY THE ODESTA WEDDING. Eat cake and write in the guest book if you enjoy the chapter ;)
I don't sleep much that night.
I try, I do. I curl up against Finnick and count to two thousand in my head. I reposition myself so I'm lying halfway on top of him like I used to have to do to fall asleep, but still I feel an electric energy buzzing underneath my skin. I burrow down underneath the covers, my face pressing against Finnick's ribs and my head wedged between his side and his arm, but all that does it make me overheated. I even try climbing out of the bed and retreating to the empty, untouched one on the other side of the compartment, but then I'm just cold and lonely.
I'm fitting my body against his once more when he speaks up suddenly, sounding just as awake as I feel.
"By all means, make yourself comfortable!" He teases, fake irritation in his voice. I do feel bad then, because I have been tossing and turning and climbing over and around him and just generally making his night sleepless as well.
"Sorry," I whisper, and I can't see him in the dark, but I think he smiles.
I feel the bed shift as he turns over onto his side, and I'm irritated for a moment because I just spent two minutes picking a new sleeping position and I think it might have worked and now it's ruined. I am able to discern how ridiculous my brief irritation is only moments later, and I'm giggling quietly, blinking against the heavy darkness and trying to make out the curve of Finnick's lips.
"What are you laughing about, silly?" Finnick asks, and I can absolutely hear the smile in his voice this time.
I press my hands over my mouth, attempting to stifle my laughter, and then I'm answering him.
"I just got annoyed because you moved and I just got comfortable." I admit, and then I'm laughing again.
His laughter mixes in with mine, and it's so lovely suddenly. It's lovely to hear our laughter and nothing else but the smothered silence of the night. It feels like our own electric world, and I love it.
"You're laughing because you got annoyed with me? I knew there was a reason I loved you." Finnick comments.
I kick towards him lightly, and I don't know how he knows, but he anticipates it right before I do. He rolls over flat on his back, my kick flying over him, and that's when I know we really are one person.
He rolls back over a few moments later, and I don't have to see his face to know he's smug.
"Close, but not close enough." He brags.
"Ha, ha." I whisper.
I feel his fingertips against my nose a second later, and his hand travels over until it finds its destination. He brushes my hair back, his joking manner vanishing just as the lights and the sounds of everyone else has.
"Can't sleep?" He guesses.
I nod, knowing he can feel it and see the general gesture even if he can't make out my facial features in the poor lighting.
"Scared?" He questions.
I shake my head this time. My fear was earlier. I can't feel anything now but excitement.
"Excited, really excited. I feel like I have...lightning under my skin excited." I clarify, and I know there's no way anyone could doubt that by how energetic my voice sounds as I mutter those words to him.
His quiet laughter is gleeful.
"I like that explanation." He tells me. That makes me smile.
"Could you sleep?" I ask him a few moments later, wondering why his hand in my hair hasn't made me sleepy yet. That almost always does it. Even the night before my Games it put me to sleep. It's a testament to just how excited I am that it can't now.
"Well, I could, if a certain pretty lady wasn't readjusting her sleeping position every ten minutes." He says lightly. I can tell he's not really angry though, because he's smiling, and affection is leaking from his fingertips. If the lights were on, I wonder if I could see it. Probably not. I don't think that's something you can see. Just something you can feel.
"Sorry." I whisper again, and then he's leaning forward and his lips are on the corner of my mouth.
"Missed!" I tell him, and he snorts in amusement.
"I did not miss, this is where I wanted." He insists, kissing me again in the same spot like that was his plan to begin with. He slides his lips over, locating mine as he originally intended to, and this kiss feels more planned.
"Want me to help you get to sleep?" He mumbles against my lips, his words coming out so seductive that I'm fighting back laughter once more. I consider it for a moment, letting the proposed situation play out in my mind, but I quickly come to the decision that that will actually do more hindrance than help when it comes to my desire to go to sleep.
"Want to? Yes. But no. I'll never go to sleep." I murmur, leaning my head up a bit to kiss him one more time.
He's fiddling with my hair when he replies.
"You underestimate my abilities," He says quietly, and I can practically hear the wink in his voice.
"Actually, I might be overestimating them if anything." I point out, and he's quiet for a few moments as he mulls over that.
I'm thinking about how awake he sounded when he "woke up", and I'm narrowing my eyes.
"You know what I think?" I ask.
"I thought you said you didn't want to?" He asks, slight confusion in his tone. It takes me a moment to get why he said that, but then I remember that's exactly how I initiated our rendezvous while we were weaving the net.
"I can have more than one thought, you know." I huff jokingly, and he's laughing softly. He makes a sound of surprise, and I reach up behind him and tug lightly on his hair.
"Kidding, kidding. What are you thinking?" He questions.
I kick at his feet absentmindedly, biting back a grin when he kicks back at me. I slide my foot up his calf and back down, already about to laugh from the words I haven't even spoken yet.
"I think you've been awake this entire time." I tell him.
"Oh you do, do you?" He asks, echoing his response from a few days ago.
I have to bite the inside of my cheek to keep from laughing as I force my next words out.
"I thought you said you didn't want to?" I mock him, and then he's laughing loudly and I'm grinning hugely and I'm pressing a kiss to his cheek.
"Missed," He taunts.
"I really did aim for there." I tell him. I continue. "Anyway, I really do think so. I know your sleepy voice and that wasn't your sleepy voice."
He teasingly slides his hands down my back and then over my bottom, laughing as I reach over and gently pinch his shoulder.
"I can't get anything past you, can I?" He asks, his hands returning to my back and his laughter dying down.
"Nope!" I tell him cheerfully.
But that is so absurd, because almost everything passes by me. I miss so much it's not even funny. And yet, I'm laughing, because it's in the middle of the night and Finnick and I are getting married in a few hours.
"I have lightning under my skin, too." He admits a few moments later.
My fingers find his shoulder and I stare at the outline of it, tracing word after word of the wedding song into his skin. I like that he doesn't have his shirt on. I tell him this, and he laughs a bit.
"What are we going to do? We should sleep." I tell him, a bit of anxiety creeping up in my voice. "Will you still think I'm a beautiful bride if I have circles underneath my eyes?"
"Can you spell 'absolutely' for me?" Finnick requests suddenly. I'm confused for a moment.
"A-B-S-O-L- oh." I say, my smile widening.
"How about 'dazzling'?" He questions.
"Good word for the middle of the night!" I compliment him.
He leans down and runs his nose down the side of my cheek, kissing the edge of my jaw when he reaches the bottom.
"Please spell it?" He asks.
I'm grinning wickedly as I respond.
"Dazzling. F-I-N-N-I-C-K." I spell.
He pulls me closer to him, burying his face into the crook of my neck.
"And they let you win a spelling bee? You're awful at this!" He teases. His warm breath on my neck never fails to make goosebumps rise, and I think he knows this.
"I'm a spelling prodigy." I refute, resting my hand on the back of his head. I occupy myself with running my fingers through his hair. It's calming.
"We're not sleeping tonight, are we?" Finnick predicts tiredly.
I try to find even a shred of sleepiness inside of me, but I've got nothing.
"Nope." I respond. I'm grinning slyly then, the excited buzzing underneath my skin making me feel blunter than normal. I kind of like it. It reminds me of what caffeine does, but with life so grand and Finnick's hands on me, my mind is stable, too. It's rare that I have energy, happiness, and mental stability all at once. Somehow I feel like those are the three ingredients that pre-Games Annie was made of, because they've been my active ingredients the past week, and I've felt so much like her that it almost frightens me. "We should talk about our wedding night."
He groans immediately, jabbing at my ribs with his finger.
"I think you're getting relaxation and excitement mixed up." He accuses.
I sigh heavily, realizing that he's probably right. I didn't get the words mixed up, but my proposition definitely isn't calming.
"Oh yeah." I say. A few moments trickle by, and then I'm adding something. "But say that we did talk about it, what would we say?"
His back is shaking, and I realize a moment later that he's laughing so hard no sound is coming out of his mouth. I pat his back, my own laughter getting overrun by a sudden wave of affection.
He's a bit breathless when he finally composes himself. His lifts his head, and my eyes have adjusted so well to the dark that I can make out the shape of his amused smile.
"I'll tell you what we'd say. I'd tell you exactly what I have planned, then you'd blush, and it would be really adorable, and then we'd find ourselves very much not sleeping for the rest of the night. Sound accurate to you?" He questions.
"Yes, very accurate." I agree. I ponder for a few moments, and then I'm speaking up again. "Let's play a word game."
"Is this one of those word games that I have no chance of winning?" He jokes.
I find myself sliding closer to him without even planning on it, throwing a leg over him and clutching him to me. I kiss his neck a few times and he plays with my hair. He speaks up a moment later.
"If this is a new word game, it's my favorite." He tells me.
That brings my mind back to my previous train of thought.
"Let's each say a word and the other person has to say the word they associate with it." I suggest.
His lips press to my head once, and then he's agreeing.
"Garden." I say.
"Annie." He replies immediately. This makes my heart warm and my stomach flutter and I'm kissing him again.
"Champagne." He says.
"Kissing." I reply.
Finnick's fingers trace down my spine, and I can almost feel his curiosity.
"Kissing?" He questions.
"Eighteenth birthday. You pulled out a bottle of champagne that night, remember? It was also the first time we really, really kissed."
His voice is fond when he responds.
"That's right, isn't it? That was a great day." He smiles.
I'm smiling, too, and then I'm giving him the next word.
"Clothes." I say.
"Off."
We both start laughing immediately, and really I think we might be nearing a point of sleep deprivation.
"Cats." Finn offers.
"Poseidon. Sleep?"
"Bed. Sea?"
"Shells. Glitter?"
"Your interview dress. Laughter?"
"Finnick." I say. We play this on and on, until I feel the first traces of sleepiness wash over me, and I fall silent for a few moments. When it's my turn, all I can say is: "Sleepiness?"
"I have that." He responds, and I'm giggling tiredly.
He rolls over onto his back and I crawl back on his chest, gripping him tightly. His heartbeat is steady underneath my ear, and even now I can feel my stomach fluttering.
"This time tomorrow, we'll be married." I whisper.
"Any dream I have will be a nightmare." He mumbles. It takes me a few minutes to understand what he's saying, because at first I think he's saying that he's upset and that he's going to have bad dreams because of it. But then I realize that he's saying that reality is so good, no matter what happens in his dream, it will seem like a nightmare in comparison.
With that thought, I feel warm and safe enough to sleep.
I'm briefly disoriented when I wake in the morning.
I'm hazy and tired, cocooned underneath the blankets with my body warm against Finnick's. I have this nagging feeling in the back of my mind that there's something I have to do, but I can't get myself to do much but wrap an arm around Finnick's stomach. I'm thinking to myself that I love him as he mumbles something in his sleep, and then I'm sitting straight up, smiling hugely, because I know exactly what I have to do today, and it's something that I've been wanting to do for years.
There's a Capitol adage that forbids the husband from seeing the wife before the wedding, but when Plutarch shared it with me, I just blinked at him. I knew then that there was no way they would pull us apart even for a morning, and now as I'm sitting up and peering down at Finnick's sleeping form, I know I was absolutely correct in this assumption. I stretch my legs out in front of me and slide up on the bed, straightening the covers back over Finn, although I don't know why because he has to get up now as well. I keep telling myself that, but maybe it's not true, because I'm not waking him. Instead I'm stroking my fingers down his face and through his hair and down his neck, my heart consuming my entire chest.
He stirs after a few minutes, his eyelids fluttering open. He smiles almost immediately and reaches up to catch my hand. He kisses the back of it, his eyes drifting back shut for another moment, and I'm laughing again because I don't know what else to do. I'm thrilled and overjoyed with too much happiness to place.
"What time is it?" He asks me.
A quick glance to the clock tells me not late enough.
"We have an hour until prep." I say, and then I'm pausing because the words feel so strange. Strange because Katniss's prep team is splitting up and taking the afternoon to get us both ready, like we're on the Victory Tour again or something. Strange because the last time I was put through prep, it was for something terrible, but this time it will be for something perfect.
"Still here?" Finnick questions nervously, and when I look back at him and then at the clock, I realize I've been quiet for ten minutes. I nod and smile, but his eyes still look worried, and it's easy to realize why. I put my hands on his shoulders and kiss him firmly on the mouth, his skin smooth beneath my fingertips and his mouth warm. When I pull back and meet his eyes, I don't have to say the words because he understands, but I give them to him anyway. Just in case.
"I'm not going to go away today, Finn. I promise. This day is for us." It's the first time since I've been pulled from that arena that I feel strong enough to make a promise like that.
He smiles.
"Good."
I can tell he believes me, too.
Finnick opens his arms and I crawl into his lap, pulling the blanket with me, and for the next forty-five minutes I lean my head against his shoulder and stare at his neck and listen to stories of Finnick when he was little. I've heard them all at least two times, but still it is one of my favorite things in the entire world. He knows this, too, and I think he gets sick of telling them sometimes, but still he does because they make me smile no matter how often I hear them. I trace the hairline above his neck and ponder whether I love the stories so much because I actually like the stories themselves, or if I just love how animated Finnick gets when he's retelling a story. I decide both.
When it's time to separate for prep, I don't want to let go of his hand. I have this sudden fear that if we are pulled apart, we will never get pushed back together and this wedding will never happen and I'll end up alone in the Capitol again somehow.
"We could just do our prep in the same room?" I suggest weakly, even though I know no one will go for that. Finnick's fingers loosen bit by bit until he's dropping my hand. He presses a kiss to my cheek and pulls me into a hug, and then makes me a promise.
"I will see you in a few hours."
Well, he's never broken a promise yet.
Venia is in my room and Octavia is in Finnick's, with Flavius drifting back and forth. I sit quietly and try to figure out exactly what they're doing to Finnick. I can't think of much to improve upon honestly, and that can't only be because I love him. I guess they'll trim his hair or something.
My prep goes fine, until Flavius is nearing me with a tube of deep red lipstick. I cringe away from it automatically, my stomach churning, and I don't have the words to tell him what I need to: that the only times I've had dark red lipstick on have been very poor times in my life. That Finnick wouldn't want me in it any more than I want myself in it. That it isn't me, or even The Mad Girl, and I'm the one who is getting married today, not the girl the Capitol tries to make me, not the girl Snow sold.
I do find some words, though.
"I like light colors." I tell him carefully.
I brace myself for an argument, because that's what my prep team would have given me, but Flavius merely nods and rolls down the lipstick, placing the top back on. He locates a shade almost the same as my actual lips, and I give him a nod, because that makes me a lot more comfortable.
The next time Flavius returns, he's looking at me like I suddenly morphed into something he didn't expect.
"You were right to go with Desert Rose. I heard about the salt water bit you do in your weddings. That would have made Siren Red smear awfully." He says, and the way he's looking at me makes me certain he suddenly thinks I know more about cosmetics than I really do. I really know next to nothing.
I don't have any desire to correct him, so I merely smile and nod and let him think I didn't want it because of that. I wonder if he told Finnick I didn't want it. I wonder if Finnick told him that to keep him from questioning me further. I love Finnick, and I'm suddenly even more impatient to be walking down the aisle.
I've got a lightning bugs buzzing inside of me as they help me into the green dress. Venia zips it up and moves to the front so she can make sure it's positioned right while Flavius pulls a brush through my hair. He sprays something in a purple spray bottle on it and runs some sort of foam through it with his fingers, which makes it look shinier almost immediately, and I'm lost trying to understand how that is as he's pulling half of it up. He's got the top layer pulled back and secured with the prettiest hair clip I've ever seen. It's got tiny pearls running in two parallel lines to the middle of the clip, where a small white seashell is. I turn my head to the side a bit so I can see it (it's clipped on the right side of my head near the very back), and I stare at it as he takes a curling iron to my hair. I nod periodically while Venia says things to me, trying my hardest not to cry.
"Where did you get this?" I finally ask Flavius, reaching up and touching the clip. I can't be certain, but I think it's a real seashell.
He lowers the curling iron and smiles a bit, looking at it too.
"Oh, it was one of the few things that made it from home." He says, and I know he's referring to his home, the Capitol, but it made it from my home, too.
The only thing that keeps me from crying when they return me to the mirror is Venia's threats. She gives me a speech about how she knows marriage is emotional, but they weren't able to get their hands on water-proof mascara, and if I cry and ruin my makeup I'll regret it. I don't think she could hurt a fly, but still I make an effort to choke back any tears because I know it would probably hurt her feelings if I did ruin all their hard work. It's difficult, though, and I'm not sure how to explain it to them. I wouldn't even if I could. It bypasses emotion. I'm staring at the thing I could never have, the future that I always told myself was unattainable, the dream that made my heart ache because it was always just out of reach. But looking at myself in my wedding gown, an hour away from walking down the aisle, and I'm there. I'm inside the small house near the sea. I have the thing I never thought I ever would. It's in the palm of my hand. And so it has less to do with the expert makeup applied to my face, or the hairstyle that is pulled up just enough to look elegant but not enough to make me uncomfortable, or the dress that is lovelier than anything I could have hoped. It has less to do with all that and more to do with the fact that I'm marrying Finnick and it is honestly a dream come true. People say that phrase a lot, but I mean is so deeply in my soul, because a few months ago this was just a dream. A beautiful one, but a dream nonetheless. And now it's reality.
"Well? Is everything good to go?" Flavius asks me, staring over my shoulder at my reflection. I observe the soft pink lipstick he's used (thankfully), the shimmering white eyeshadow, the touch of mascara and the pink blush, and I'm turning to him with a smile.
"Thank you." I say. It's not the most appropriate response to his inquiry, but he accepts it anyway. Because everything is good to go. I don't look like another person. I look like myself (albeit a bit nicer because, truth be told, I haven't looked too lovely since the Capitol). And right now, myself is exactly who I want to be.
I sit in a chair and play with the skirt of my dress for a while. It looks so wonderful when the light hits it. It shines almost like liquid. Cora would have been appalled that I wasn't getting married in white. She's big on tradition, especially when it comes to weddings. She wouldn't even buy her dream dress because it was ivory. But for the very first time, Cora would have been wrong.
I miss her then, but for one of the first times, it's the kind of missing that doesn't hurt that badly. I can acknowledge that I wish she was here, but she's not. She's not, and she won't be, and I can't let that keep me from enjoying this day. Regardless of how many times I may have wished it wasn't true, I survived that arena. I survived and now I have to live and let myself move on. I have to let myself be happy, because being miserable won't bring my family back, either. And the most surprising thing of all is that I'm okay. I'm okay without my big sister. I'm okay with her guiding hand or her guiding words. I'm strong like her, after all.
My heart is beating so loudly I almost feel lightheaded when Plutarch sticks his head in to tell me it's time. I rise unsteadily to my feet, glad that I'm in sandals instead of heels, and my heart pounds the entire walk to the double doors that lead to the giant room the wedding is being held in.
For a moment all I can think about are the double doors that led to the gym during Training. I'm thinking about how Finnick walked me down and wished me luck and gave my shoulder a reassuring squeeze, and then the doors are opening and he's right in front of me. He's too far for my liking, so I find my feet carrying me forward, and I can hear the children humming the wedding song, but I can't see anything but Finnick. I know I must be beaming, because my face already aches. I take a deep, shuddering breath when I suddenly realize that there are hundreds of people watching my progression down the aisle. I look self-consciously down at my feet, making sure I'm not at a risk of tripping over my dress or walking too quickly, but I seem to be doing okay. I look back up at Finnick and he's smiling even wider and is it time for the kiss yet? I think it should be.
I wish my father was here to walk me down the aisle, because it's a long walk to make alone. I can feel everyone's eyes on me, but it helps that I can't seem to look anywhere but Finnick. When I finally climb carefully up the two stairs onto the low stage Finnick and Dalton are on, I know Venia is going to hate me, because I can already feel my eyes burning and my throat tightening.
I make my way in front of Finnick, and I think I could write this memory down a thousand times but I will never find words strong enough to capture the look on his face. He's peering at me with such affection that I'm blinking rapidly against tears, and when I scan my eyes over him, I'm smiling even wider. He looks perfect, and really that's no surprise because he's Finnick Odair and he always looks perfect, but something about the sight in front of me just looks right. He's got an altered suit of Peeta's on, and they did a great job altering it, because it fits him perfectly. His eyes are green green green, and I remember when that was the only color I could see. That was before he brought the rest of the colors back, that is. His cheeks are pink with excitement and his hair is trimmed and combed and set in place most likely by that same foam stuff that made my hair shiny.
He reaches out and takes both my hands, and I grip his tightly, suddenly overwhelmed by a desire to laugh. But then Dalton is talking, and I'm reluctantly tearing my eyes away from Finnick and looking up at him.
"We're here to celebrate the union of Finnick Odair and Annie Cresta. To begin this ceremony, a hand-woven net will be draped over the couple, symbolizing their togetherness as they begin a new life together." Dalton begins.
I hear the rustling of the net as someone pulls it from the box and unrolls it, but I can't tear my eyes from Finnick long enough to see who it is. They drape it over my shoulders and then wrap it around and drape it over Finnick's as well. With us facing each other and the net around us, it almost creates a barrier between us and the audience. I like it. I pull one of my hands free from Finnick's long enough to reach up and make sure the net isn't going to slide off my shoulders. When I'm confident that it's going to stay, I grab his hand once more. He's got a twinkling in his eyes, and I feel my face flush lightly because I know all too well why that is. I'm glad no one here knows just how much this net symbolizes togetherness.
"Finnick and Annie will now recite vows they have each written for each other." Dalton leads.
The good thing about this being my dream is that I've had these words written in my head for years. Finnick must have too, because I haven't seen him write anything down that looked like a vow, and he's not pulling out a piece of paper right now. He tugs lightly on my hands, pulling me a bit closer to him, and I have to read up quickly to keep the net from falling off me. Once it's secured, he's speaking up, as in District 4 tradition the man says his vows first.
"I, Finnick Odair, take you, Annie Cresta, to be my wife, my friend, my partner." Finnick starts. His eyes are locked on mine, and I can't process much beyond the beauty of his contented smile or his radiant face. My heart is beating beating beating and my stomach is fluttering and I have never been happier. Never. I don't think I ever will.
"I will love you even more each and every day that passes. I promise to always be there for you, to hold your hand when you need it, to make you laugh when you're sad. I promise to always make sure you have five sugarcubes in your coffee." Finnick pauses for a moment and then I'm laughing, my eyes watery and my heart flooded. He continues. "I will adore and cherish you throughout everything, and I will love you always. No matter what. I and my heart are yours, and only yours, forever."
The only thing that even dims my all-consuming happiness is the knowledge that I don't even get to kiss him until the very end of the ceremony. I caress my thumbs over the backs of his hands instead, knowing he will take from that how much I love him. He gives my hands a squeeze in response.
My voice is shaking when I begin, but that's no surprise. I'm choked up with joy.
"I, Annie Cresta, take you, Finnick Odair, to be my husband and my friend." I begin. My voice echoes all throughout the room, but for once, I don't care. I want everyone to hear this. I want everyone to know just how much I love Finnick. I'm not hiding it anymore. My voice is steadier as I continue. "I swear to make you laugh when you're having a bad day. I vow to spellcheck as many poems as you need me to. I promise to trust you, to laugh with you, to cry with you, to share a life with you. I promise to stay by your side until the day I die. I will be there throughout everything, and I will love you every second of every day for the rest of my life."
His eyes are sparkling and I'm suffocating under the weight of my own heart. He smiles so softly at me that I almost feel like I'm floating. His hands around mine are the only thing keeping me grounded.
Dalton begins the part of weddings that I've always considered the most boring. He reads a lengthy description of marriage and what it means, but it's a bit different from what they say in 4. I guess this is what they say in 10. It's close enough, though, and I don't find it boring at all this time, because Finnick is with me.
When he stops talking, I'm expecting to skip to the salt water ceremony, but he doesn't. He begins talking about rings and what they symbolize, but I'm looking at Finnick in light confusion, because we don't have rings. 13 would never give us wedding rings. They're too frugal for that.
When a child walks up in front of Dalton and faces us, I'm unsure how Finnick did it, but on the small cushion in the child's hands there are two simple rings. Tears really are welling in my eyes, then. I glance up at Finnick, and he almost looks smug that he managed to keep a surprise from me. I'm in a daze as he pulls the thinner band off the cushion and then lifts my left hand, unfurling my fingers and gifting me with a smile so dazzling my tears are spilling over.
"This ring is a token of my love. I marry you with this ring, with all that I have and all that I am." He recites after Dalton. He slides it on my ring finger, and I'm not surprised at all that it fits perfectly and feels just right.
I drop my left hand, running my thumb absentmindedly and almost reverently over the ring, and then I pull his left hand up. I have to stop for a moment, staring at the way my left hand looks on his hand, but then I'm reaching with my right hand for his ring.
"This ring is a token of my love. I marry you with this ring, with all that I have and all that I am." I echo easily. I push the ring onto his ring finger as well, and I'm grinning like a fool and fighting back an urge to bounce on my feet at the way our two left hands look together, rings on both of our fingers. I look up and meet his glance, and he looks like he feels the same.
The net is pulled from our shoulders, and the shock of cool air startles me for a bit. I find myself looking out at the audience, shocked once more by how many people there are. I wonder what they are seeing right now. I have just enough time to sweep my eyes over the room, taking in the beautiful decor centered around autumn leaves, and then I'm looking back at Finnick. The net has been spread over a small table in front of us like an overly large tablecloth, and the same child who had the cushion carries a small bowl of water over and places it carefully on top of it. I look up at Finn again, and he looks at me, and we're grinning.
This is the most important and most respected part of the ceremony in District 4. The wedding song is sung while the bride and groom anoint each other's lips with salt water. After that, they seal the marriage with a kiss, timed so they pull back right before the song ends. One glance at Finn and I'm deciding that I should probably lean in near the third to last stanza, because I don't know how quickly I'll be able to pull away from him once I step into the circle of his arms.
This has always been my favorite part of weddings. It's always so beautifully quiet except for the gentle melody of the wedding song, and you can always see how much the couple loves each other in these quiet moments. I can tell my own wedding will be no exception. Dalton explains the tradition to everyone else, and then the fiddler starts up and the children begin the first stanza (Today is a voyage I am taking with you...).
I'm clinging tightly to the green of Finnick's eyes as he reaches forward and dips his fingers into the bowl of water. We step towards each other automatically, and his other arm wraps around my waist, his palm flat on my back. He holds me securely and lowers his eyes to my lips, and when he brushes his wet fingertips over them, I'm trying not to cry once again. Beads of water drip down his fingers and land on my chin, and suddenly all I can remember is the day we kissed, when his fingertips brushed so lightly and curiously over my lips without him even noticing it. They're not curious now, but they're just as gentle and just as fond. I can taste the salt as some of the water drips past my lips, and he's tracing a heart with his fingertips. He raises his eyes to meet mine, his fingers still on my lips, and then I'm gripping his hand and pressing a kiss to his palm. His smile will be forever etched in my mind.
He keeps one arm around my waist as he lowers his right hand. I dip my fingers into the warm water next, ignoring the way beads of water roll down my arm as I lift my hand up. I lock my eyes on his lips and reach forward, running my fingertips over his upper lip and then over this bottom, feeling suddenly like I am touching something so beautiful that I'm really not worthy to at all. I trace my fingertips over his lips a few times, and then he reaches up and takes my hand gently, kissing it as I kissed his. Then I'm looking at him and listening to the song, waiting for the right time to kiss him.
Because I loved it so, I knew we shall never part
for there was no place else I could rest my heart
I hit the boards and lifted the sails with ease
for where else would I go but closer to the sea?
Today is the day I am setting sail
and I am glad it is with you
The tide will rise and the tide will fall
but still my heart will rest with yours
The waves will swell and the waves will crash
and the sail will whip and the sail will crack
the floorboards will creak and the rain will pour
but never will I abandon this ship or your soul
I'm certain that there's only four stanzas left, so I'm looking from the children back to Finnick, and he's gently pulling me closer, his hand still on my back. I lift my arms and loop them around his neck, looking up and examining the way his eyelashes frame his eyes. He's smiling softly, gently, and my heart is aching for his, and then his lips are just as soft as he presses them to mine. A shock runs through my body and I lift up on my toes, gripping him closer, and when he pulls back we both lean in one more time, meeting in a gentle kiss that leaves my heart soaked and the taste of his salty lips in my mouth. And it's funny, because salt water always makes me think of that lake in my arena and tears, but not this salt water. I lower myself down and grin up at Finn, and all I can think about is how happy I am, and how much I love the way salt water tastes.
Today when I take your hand
I am grasping the wheel as well
for no matter what storms come our way
know we will prevail.
"Congratulations, Mr. and Mrs. Odair!" Dalton says, and everyone cheers. Two glasses of apple cider are pressed into our hands, and Dalton leads a group toast, wishing us a long, happy life together, and I'm thinking to myself that apple cider tastes good mixed with salt water as I set my glass down.
Dalton steps down and the fiddler starts to play an upbeat tune, and then I'm hugging Finnick tightly and pressing a kiss to his shoulder. His lips are warm against the crown of my head, and we're still wrapped up in each other's arms as people begin shrieking in delight. When I open my eyes to peek at the audience, everyone's breaking into dance, huge smiles on their face. This makes me smile even wider, and then I'm hiding my face against Finnick's neck, suddenly sure that this is all too much, too much, too much, as things often are.
No one bothers us for a few minutes, and we say nothing at all. We don't need to. I can feel Finnick's heart and he can feel mine and we are married. He's my husband and I'm his wife. We're standing here together and we have made it where we never thought we would.
When I lift my head and lean back to peer at Finnick, he's still got that radiant smile on his face, and then I'm taking his face in my hands and kissing him again, my stomach fluttering so intensely it almost makes me feel sick.
When I pull back, Finnick takes my hands, his eyes tender.
"Hi, Mrs. Odair." He tells me, and then we're both smiling so hugely I know we must look mad.
We step down off the small stage, Finnick's arm wrapped firmly around my waist. People drift by to congratulate us, but I'm suddenly wondering why people even have dancing or festivities after weddings. Because all I want right now is to be alone with Finnick. I know he feels the same by the way his fingers trace over the bare skin on my back as he talks to person after person after person. I thank people and smile at them and laugh, but all the while my attention is really on Finnick. On the happiness radiating from him, on the sound of his elated laughter, on the way he keeps his arm around me at all times.
When Katniss and Gale Hawthorne walk over and take Finnick and I by the hand, pulling us into the middle of the room that has now become a dance floor, insisting that we share a dance alone as husband and wife, I don't protest at all. I can't think of anything that sounds nicer.
The fiddler plays a soft tune that slides through my skin and curls up right at the bottom of my heart. Finnick sets his right hand on the middle of my back and he pulls me against him, taking my right hand in his left and holding it out beside us securely. I lift my left arm and rest my hand on his shoulder, taking the opportunity to straighten his suit collar as I do. This makes him laugh, and it sounds so joyful that I can't help but laugh too. My eyes are watery again as I look up at him and he looks down at me, and we don't even make an effort to do anything fancy. We just sway back and forth together, moving in a circle.
"Think we should do the traditional wedding dance?" Finnick asks quietly, a smile in his voice. I'm thinking then about that time we did it what feels like ages ago, and I'm certain suddenly that that was enough. I feel less like spinning and more like clutching him tightly right now.
"I think we did a good enough job last time." I respond. I slide my eyes over his face, appreciating once again just how beautiful he really is. "I just know everyone here is dying in jealousy. You are the handsomest man I've ever seen." I tell him honestly, and my words make him chuckle a bit. He leans down and kisses my nose, resting his forehead against mine when he pulls back.
"Oh, Annie, everyone here is too busy looking at you." He tells me. His voice lowers a bit. "Have I told you yet how beautiful you look? Because I've sure been thinking it."
He anticipates the color rising to my cheeks. He turns his head a bit and presses a kiss to each one, his lips curved up in a smile.
"Didn't anyone ever tell you not to lie, Finnick Odair?" I say, and he lifts his head up a bit, humored by my words.
"I'm not lying, Annie Odair. You're absolutely breathtaking." He says, and I have to believe it. It would be impossible to look straight into Finnick's eyes, so adoring and true, and doubt him.
"You seem to be breathing all right," I tease, and then he's stifling back his laughter and bending down to kiss me once more.
"I've decided two thousand isn't enough. Let's bump it up to three thousand." He whispers once he pulls back, as if people could hear us, as if they'd even know what he was talking about if somehow they did.
But when I reply, I'm whispering, too.
"I look forward to it." I tell him, and his arms tug me nearer.
"Me too." He responds, and then I'm trying to figure out how to handle myself and all the things I'm feeling.
"I'm really happy, Finn." I tell him. I rest my head against his shoulder and close my eyes, scared suddenly that I haven't taken enough details in to remember this forever. I take notice of the gentle swaying motion, the warmth and soft pressure of Finnick's hand against my back, the clean scent of his suit, the ring on his left hand pressed against my right, the echo of his heartbeat, the love I can feel even now like it's some physical thing lying right on top of us, like that net.
"This is bliss." Finnick agrees. Bliss is perfect happiness, and this is perfect happiness, all right.
We sway for a little bit longer, and then the song ends and Finnick and I walk back to the outer fringes of the dance floor. We find two free chairs and pull them beside each other, sitting down to watch the joyous dancing everyone has started once more. It makes me so happy to see that this day isn't only happy for us. It's causing joy for everyone else, too.
I'm apprehensive when Johanna suddenly appears in front of us. She's frowning deeply at first, but then she's grimacing with what must be a strained smile.
"Congratulations." She says flatly.
"Well don't overwhelm yourself with emotion, Jo!" Finnick says sarcastically. She glares at him, her eyes hard.
"Oh, shut it, Odair."
I'm giggling without even meaning to, and then she turns on me.
"You shut it too, Odair." She pauses. "This could actually be fun, I guess. I can yell at you both at the same time. Shut it, Odairs!"
I'm laughing even harder at that, because hearing someone call me by Odair makes me ridiculously giddy.
Johanna sighs and glances at Finnick, pointing at me in exasperation.
"It's not too late to back out, Finnick. Just think. Fifty years of that."
Finnick wraps an arm around my shoulders and presses a kiss to the side of my head, Johanna's words sliding right off him. They slide of me, too, because Finnick is my husband and I'm his wife and I don't care what anyone else thinks of me at all.
"I know you're jealous, but that's no reason to put down my wife." Finnick replies, turning his nose up in the air and looking away from Johanna. Hearing him call me his wife has me warm like I've just stepped into a hot shower.
She rolls her eyes, but she's grinning this time. She mumbles something like yeah right as she walks off.
Finnick turns to me and pulls me into his arms so suddenly that I almost tumble out of my chair. He presses kiss after kiss to my head, his lips turned up in a smile and his arms warm around my body.
"Fifty years of this!" He says gleefully.
And then I'm squeezing him just as tightly, overwhelmed by the same wave that's just taken Finnick under.
"Maybe even longer if we eat well!" I find myself saying. "That means we need to lower the sugarcube intake, mister."
He runs his fingers through my curls, kissing me one last time.
"What?! No way! Fifty years is good." He jokes. His fingers are gentle as he touches the clip in my hair. "Where did you get this?"
I'm explaining what Flavius told me when doors near the back of the room are opened and people are suddenly backing up against the wall. I rise automatically, pulling Finnick up with me, and I'm floored by what I see. It's a huge wedding cake. It seems blue from far away, but as it gets closer, I'm staring at it in amazement because it's not just blue. It's a gorgeous cake covered in blue-green waves, seals, sea flowers, and sailboats. It's the essence of District 4, and it tips me over the edge. I grip Finnick's hand tightly, and then tears are sliding down my face, because this day has been everything I could have ever wanted and more.
Finnick pulls me to him and brushes back my tears, kissing me again, and I feel like screaming I'm so overjoyed. The cake is rolled right over to us. In District 4 the bridge and groom cut the cake together and then feed each other pieces of cake, but I'm not sure if it's the same here or anywhere else. Everyone is staring at the beautiful creation in awe, particularly those who are native to 13. It is truly beautiful.
Plates and utensils are brought out, and people stare expectantly at us. I take from that that we are supposed to stick to District 4 tradition on this, too. Finnick is handing the knife to me and then setting his hand around mine, and I'm glad he's steering us, because I'm not sure I could have cut this cake by myself. It's too gorgeous, too magnificent. The children are ooh-ing and ahh-ing, and the adults look equally enthralled. Finnick lets go of my hand and I carefully cut a small piece, setting it onto a plate someone hands to me, and then I look up at Finnick.
"Don't do it," I hiss underneath my breath, right as he pinches off a bit of the cake. He lifts his eyebrows.
"Do what, my beautiful wife?" He asks, overly innocent. I keep a smile glued to my face, but I know he can see the teasing threat in my eyes.
"You know." I mutter. I pinch off a bit of the cake, too.
"I love you, my darling." Finnick tells me, his voice somehow more sugary than the cake, and then he's leaning forward. I part my lips and he feeds me the cake nicely, and I'm surprised for a moment, but then he's reaching his hand down and scooping up a glob of icing with his index finger, which he then smears onto my nose.
Everyone laughs loudly in the audience, and I can feel my face heating up. It only warms even more when he leans in suddenly, kissing the icing off my nose. His eyes are laughing when he pulls back.
"Mmm!" He says, and then I'm leaning forward and smearing his cake all over his lips. We're both laughing as he licks it off and wipes at his face, removing some of the smeared icing from his cheek. This laughter fades into soft smiles as I lean forward again, wiping a bit off his chin with my thumb.
We mill around, chatting with people and watching them eat and laugh. One of the best parts is how exuberant the children are. They have huge smiles that just won't leave their faces as they get a slice of cake, and those smiles stay in place long after they've devoured it. It's one of the sweetest things I've ever seen, and I feel blessed to have been a part of it.
We run into Dr. Malone in the crowd, and she has her little girl Aliza with her. Aliza's got cake smeared all over her face, and she seems enamored with my dress. She reaches down immediately, pushing the fabric back and forth, and Dr. Malone scolds her.
"It's fine!" I reassure her. I look down at Aliza. "Did you like the wedding, Solider Aliza?"
Her responding grin is priceless.
I chat with Aliza while Finnick and Dr. Malone talk about me. I'm not sure what they're saying, but I catch my name quite a few times. I'm kneeling on the floor at Aliza's eye level, nodding as she tells me all about her top secret military mission, and then Dr. Malone's setting a hand on top of Aliza's head.
"All right, sweetie. Let's let Mr. and Mrs. Odair go talk to other people now!" She says.
I still want to squeal any time someone calls me that.
After Dr. Malone and Aliza wander off, I tire of chatting with people. Today has been an exceptional day, both in events and my mental strength, and I don't want to push it. I don't want to risk exhausting myself now and then drifting away tonight.
I pull Finnick aside and tell him this, keeping a close eye on his expression to make sure he would be okay with taking a break. If he's having the time of his life making rounds and chatting, we'll keep doing it.
He merely exhales in relief.
"No, I agree. Let's find a corner. My feet hurt." He says.
We pull two chairs up to the wall in the back and sit together, observing the party and enjoying an easy conversation. Finnick knows quite a lot of funny stories about a lot of the people here. After an hour, we both agree to step back into the party, and we dance with everyone else for what feels like hours and hours. Finnick yanks Johanna into the mix after an hour of dancing, and somehow she and I end up partners during a dance where you have to switch off every few minutes. We kind of hesitate, looking at each other uneasily, but then I take a tentative step forward and she does too and then we're spinning around, laughing and twirling. Seeing Johanna like that, carefree and actually letting herself have fun, is something I don't think I'll ever forget. And probably something I'll never see again.
Finnick and I are still talking about it as the party wraps up. It's gone on well into the night, and people are carrying their sleeping children over their shoulders and yawning. Finnick and I are still wide awake though, because for us the fun doesn't quite end yet, and probably it never will. A life together will be the best adventure we've ever had.
We thank those who planned it and funded it graciously, we endure snide comments about our wedding night (the general consensus, judging by the way people talk to me, is that people must think Finnick and I have never had sex before), we help clean up some of the mess, but then Haymitch is pushing Finnick out the door and Finnick is pulling me by the hand.
"Go, boy! It's your wedding day! We've got things here." He tells him gruffly. Finnick grins at him.
"Thanks, Haymitch." He tells him.
Haymitch waves off his thanks and shuts the door behind him, and I laugh when I hear the lock turn. I look up at Finnick at the same moment he looks down at me, and then he reaches inside his suit and pulls a card out.
"Compartment 2311, the Odairs." He reads off. He lowers the card and raises his eyebrows, an excited smile on his face. "You know what this means?" He asks.
I'm bouncing on my feet then, swinging our joined hands between us.
"A double bed?" I guess.
"A double bed!" He affirms. I stretch up and throw my arms around him in a hug, but suddenly I'm not sure how I feel about it. We've been passively wishing for one of the married compartments for a while, because they have beds made for two people instead of one, but now I'm wondering if I'll miss being crammed in such a small space with him.
I fall back down on my feet and find the words to explain my sudden uncertainty.
"We don't have to sleep on separate sides now, do we?" I ask worriedly.
This question makes him laugh incredulously, like he can't believe it even crossed my mind.
"Over my dead body!" He says, and then I'm grinning again.
We step into the elevator, and once the doors are shut, I've got my arms around Finnick's neck and my lips against his. His startled laughter is warm as it fans against my cheek, and he slides his hand down my back, pulling me closer. I feel like a clock is ticking underneath my skin as I try to see just how much I can kiss him before the doors open. The elevator hasn't even moved when it dings and the doors begin to part, and we immediately step back from each other, our hair a bit disheveled and our cheeks flushed.
I feel like I've been doused in cold water when I see Johanna standing in front of the elevator. She's staring blankly forward at us, her mouth turned down in disgust.
"I hate my life." She says finally, and then Finnick is choking back laughter and I'm blushing.
"There's room on here for you!" Finnick tells her, motioning towards all the empty space beside us. Johanna turns up her nose first, but then she's grinning almost evilly and stepping into the elevator with us.
The doors shut again, and no one from the party must press the button this time, because it begins to descend. Johanna's got her eyes on me, that same evil smirk on her face.
"Don't even think about it." Finnick tells her flatly.
Johanna opens her mouth to say something, but she's interrupted as the doors open once more. Finnick and I step out of the elevator, and she manages one thing before the doors shut again.
"Have fun tonight, kids. Learn something new." She winks.
The doors shut loudly and I'm left rolling my eyes up at the ceiling.
"Why does everyone think we've never had sex before?" I ask in exasperation.
Finnick tugs on my hand with a laugh, leading us further down the hallway.
"Because they're idiots, obviously." He answers. "And you do pull off the whole innocent thing rather well."
I huff at that. Finnick and I continue walking down the hall, glancing up at each compartment number as we walk, checking for ours. When we finally stop in front of 2311, the butterflies are back full force.
Finnick opens the door. He stops me as I try to walk in, though, a serious look on his face.
"The bride's feet never touch the threshold, remember?" He reminds me. He lifts me up into his arms and walks us through the doorway. It's identical to our last compartment, but it does have a two person bed instead.
"Welcome to your honeymoon location, Mrs. Odair." Finnick tells me, his voice suddenly sounding like he's in a commercial. "Allow me to give you a tour of this island paradise."
I look up at the curve of his jaw, fighting back laughter, and then he's carrying us over to the bathroom.
"Just a short hike away is the amazing waterfall, Shower Falls!" He exclaims. He walks us over to the shower and leans down a bit, keeping a protective hand on my shoulder to make sure I don't fall. He turns the shower on full blast, stepping back to let us observe it. I watch the stream of water tumble out of the spout and hit the tiles, and the steam feels strangely lovely against my skin. "Shower Falls is our most popular scenic destination, with rare white stones lining the bottom of the pool. The water is a miracle of nature! Sometimes it is warm, like a hot spring, but other times it's cool. It adjusts based on the visitors' desires."
I'm biting my lip and swallowing my laughter. I reach up and stroke my hand through his hair a bit, suddenly certain that I like his hair messy better than combed neatly.
"Wow, how gorgeous!" I exclaim.
From the way the muscles in his neck tense for a moment, I can tell he's trying not to laugh, too. He walks us out of the bathroom and back into the main room. He crosses over to the bed and pulls the blanket off with one hand, flinging it onto the floor. I'm staring up at him, waiting to see what this will turn into.
"And that's not all this island paradise has! Just a short walk away from Shower Falls is a beautiful, picturesque beach! The sand was hand-sifted by native islanders and there is a constant flow of sugarcubes and tropical drinks, free of cost." He says. He points at the blanket now. "And as you can see in front of you, it comes equipped with thick cushions to lie out on. You can sunbathe during the day and stargaze at night right here without ever having to move!"
I loop my arms even tighter around his neck, pressing my face against it and kissing him.
"Sounds perfect." I tell him.
He spins us suddenly, and I'm clutching him tighter. He falls still, looking down and me and pressing a kiss between my eyes.
"But that's still not all!" He says. He walks us over to the bed, and my heart squeezes and I tense a bit in excitement. I can tell from the grin that suddenly takes over his face that he notices this.
He sets me down slowly on the bed, rising and straightening his suit jacket.
"You're sitting on the most comfortable bed to have ever been made. It was created over a span of one hundred years, blessed by deities, and hand-stuffed with feathers from golden geese." He tells me, his face serious but his eyes twinkling brighter than anything I've ever seen. I run my hands over the sheets, pressing down on the bed and testing the softness.
"Wow," I say, and then I have to duck my head because I'm trying my hardest not to laugh at the image of someone stuffing golden feather after golden feather into a mattress. He's ridiculous.
He grins and continues. "The sheets are made of the finest silk, and each room is close enough to Shower Falls to hear the peaceful and distant sound of the water."
He holds up a finger and mouths one moment, and then he disappears into the bathroom and turns the faucet on. The sound echoes throughout the room and I can't stop from giggling then.
"How exotic!" I choke out. "Now where's my husband? I want to thank him for this wonderful trip."
Calling him that has me bouncing my leg up and down in eagerness. He comes walking out of the bathroom a moment later, his commercial-like persona gone.
"What do you think of our honeymoon location?" He asks me seriously.
I look just as seriously at him, suppressing my laughter once more.
"I think it's perfect." I tell him, and I really mean it.
He sits down beside me on the bed, cupping my cheek and running his thumb over it.
"I think you're perfect." He tells me, and I'm smiling again.
"Well I think you're perfect." I say.
He grins widely and pulls me into his arms, brushing my hair back from my neck long enough to press a kiss to it.
"I think we're perfect together." He murmurs.
I can only agree with that. My hands are already itching to pull at his clothes, but that isn't much of a surprise, because they've been itching to do that all day. I reach down between us and unbuttoned his suit jacket, but then he's catching my hand in his. He reaches up with his other hand and gently unsnaps the clip in my hair, leaning over the side of the bed briefly to set it safely out of the way. He sits back up and takes my hands once more.
"We should plan our vacation itinerary first." He jokes, his voice quiet and low. I sigh and then look up at the ceiling like I'm thinking.
"Okay, how about...we make love here in the golden feather bed, then we sunbathe for a while, then we can make love underneath the stars, and then maybe go explore Shower Falls?" I suggest, and for once I'm not blushing at all.
"I do like the way you think, Mrs. Odair." He compliments.
For some reason, him calling me this leaves me breathless.
"Why thank you, Mr. Odair." I reply, and then his eyes are locked on mine and it's electric once again.
I'm about to lean in to kiss him when something occurs to me suddenly.
"This is why you didn't want to talk about tonight last night! Because you didn't want to ruin your surprise!" I exclaim.
He grins knowingly at me and then winks.
"Maybe, maybe not." He says. But I can't help but laugh at that, because he never can pull off mysterious. At least not with me. I know everything about him.
Of course, he knows everything about me too. Like the fact that if he traces his fingertips lightly over the nap of my neck, I'll lean into him automatically. He kisses me sweetly and slowly, and it's the kind of kiss that warms me to my toes. My heart is pounding as we kiss each other, and I'm slipping my hands inside his suit jacket and trying to shrug it off him when he's mumbling something underneath his breath. I'm a bit too far gone to catch it at first, drunk on happiness and the words wife and husband, and the way Annie Odair sounds. But I realize a few moments later that it was a number, and I think about saying something smart back to him, but suddenly I'm certain that I want him to kiss me three thousand times. I push his jacket off and lie back on the bed, my eyes fluttering shut as he kisses his way down my neck, whispering sweet words that keep a constant smile on my face.
I am happier than I ever thought possible here with him. We kiss each other for a while, because suddenly we have all the time in the world. That never happens to us. We never get time. But suddenly we have so much of it I don't know what to do with it. I work Finnick's shirt from his body, and he carefully slides the zipper to my dress down, and then he's mumbling something into my hair.
"Oh yeah, we can also go deep sea diving. That's another island activity."
"Is that what we're calling it now?" I tease, face flushed and suddenly deeply uncomfortable with having clothing on. "If so, that's what I pick first."
"Mmm, me too." He tells me, carefully pushing the thin straps down my arms.
When we've got nothing on but our rings, I slide my hand down Finnick's back and tell him a secret.
"I have never felt saner than I have today." I whisper. "And I've never been happier."
His lips are sweet and salty against mine, and his hands grip my body against his. He ducks his head and presses a kiss that almost sounds final to my neck.
"Three thousand!" He proclaims. "And if only you knew how much that was true for me, too."
There's no way that was three thousand kisses, but he's rolling us over and his hands are warm on my skin, and the time for articulating words is gone. It slid away quicker than I would have expected, leaving hot skin and breathless impatience in its wake. Now it's just Finnick and I and nothing bad and nothing sad and nothing complicated. Just closed eyes and love and union, and whispered vows mumbled into each other's skin. When Finnick whispers: you are the only truly beautiful thing I have ever seen, I'm breaking apart, but I take him with me a minute and four words later (you saved my life).
A girl was born in the spring and all she ever wanted growing up was to love and love well, and she ended up getting more than she ever could have hoped for. A girl was born in the spring and all she ever dreamed of was growing up and living in a small house with flowers lining the outside with someone who loves her, and she has somehow done enough finally to deserve that. A girl was born in the spring and all she ever wanted was a family, her family, any family, and she has one now. A girl was born in the spring and she walked down the aisle in the fall, healing her heart and mending her mind on the way down.