I'm sorry that this is so short, but I have my licensure test for my RN on Thursday so I've been studying almost constantly. Next week will be better!

"The loneliest moment in someone's life is when they are watching their whole world fall apart, and all they can do is stare blankly"

~F. Scott Fitzgerald, The Great Gatsby

I don't know what time it is when I wake up. My eyes stick together as I peer upwards where Finnick is sitting on the edge of the mattress. "You know you talk in your sleep?"

"Do I?" I ask, trying to blink to wake up. I stay curled under the blankets, the warmth and protection they offer feels amazing after the rendezvous last night. I want to sleep more; to spend the rest of the days until I can go home in bed.

"You don't want kids?"

I look up at Finnick, my body stiffening. I press my lips together and peer at him closely. "I don't" I say slowly. I can't help but wonder what in the hell I was talking about.

"I don't blame you but I don't know if I agree." Finnick kicks off his shoes, laying down on the side of the bed next to me, his arms folded behind his head.

I prop myself up on my arm to look at him. "Really?"

"Yeah" he says thoughtfully. His face is serious and hopeful, and I don't know what to say.

"Do what you want, I don't care" I respond fiercely, turning onto my other side and looking pointedly at the opposite wall. I know he's looking at me but I don't give any indication that I know. "Also, don't listen to me when I'm asleep "I say more aggressively than I know I mean to. I bite down on my lip, wondering what else could come out of my mouth.

"I'm not saying anything against you, Johanna."

I scowl at the wall. The outline of the curtains is reflected there, making me think that the sun must already be high in the sky. Behind me Finnick sighs. He was out all night, too, probably doing something much more valuable than me.

Letting out a sigh of my own, I turn back towards Finnick. I meet his eyes, starring back with firmness before rubbing my hand over my face. I'm not really angry, just… tired.

"When did you get back?" I ask quietly.

"Hour or so ago" he says with a face.

I nod into the pillow, still watching him closely. It's not much in ways of an apology, but I reach out, grabbing his hand. I squeeze his fingers tightly in mine, hoping he can feel what I'm thinking more than expecting me to explain it.