Chapter 26: Soft to be Strong


Black tulle dragged along the marble floors of the Iaso Emley Clinic. Light scent of medicine was in the air as Sera hugged a black blazer tight while hurrying to the room assigned to her aunt.

Zephyr and her snuck away together after the memorial with the help of Eos, Emilia and Mica. Her former tribute turned victor was already ahead of her, loosening his tie and unbuttoning the top buttons of his shirt.

"Surprised we managed to get away before that mess ended."

Keeping her face blank, Sera sped up and walked beside him. "I finished my parts—spoke to the President and had the most fortunate luck of meeting the Redcliff family."

He stifled a laugh but couldn't help grin. "Oh, I saw that—that was the most painful thing I had ever seen. I never thought I'd see a more hateful family than my uncle's but here we are."

"Beauty of the Capitol, Zephyr, you never know what to expect."

"Doesn't sound so reassuring."

She sighed and glanced at him. It was a warning not words of comfort from her. She'd rather tell him the truth than lie and get his hopes up—not that there was a need to lie; Zephyr wasn't a hopeful person in the first place.

"Wasn't meant to be. I was saying it as it is."

"How optimistic." He ruffled his hair and looked away. Sera's words had struck a chord with him and he grew quiet. "You know I was thinking of approaching Pl—"

"Don't even think about it!" She hissed before walking past him. "It was a bad idea to tell you in the first place."

"Just because you don't want to take risks doesn't mean I can't."

"I won't be there to help you out when it all falls down."

"Oh but you will because I know deep down you want to say 'yes'. You're too afraid—I blame Huxley for that."

Even though Zephyr's was right, Sera would never admit it. Plutarch's offer was getting more attractive as time passed—it was becoming increasingly hard keeping her neutral stance.

Most of the victors in the spotlight were either puppets or ornaments. Only some like Enobaria and Brutus had agency of their own. That was only because nobody knew what to do with them. They hardly did anything which would raise suspicion.

The situation in the Capitol was getting worse.

Like Minister Thistlewood, on the surface, he appeared solely on the President's side. The way he acted around Sera and the other victors said otherwise.

He had enough authority and trust to be President Snow's right hand, his second-in-command yet how long can a man stay a shadow when he yearns for the light.

That was the type of man Minister Janus Thistlewood was shaping up to be. Someone who wanted more.

Minister Thistlewood had already acted above his given authority and even tested the limits of President Snow's trust. The unruly state of the Peacekeepers around Panem were a key example.

Peacekeepers were never kind. In the recent years since her game, they had worsened. The tragedy at Nero was a sign.

On his side were the Redcliffs and many more. There was also the former Minister of Energy turned critic of President Snow—it was only a matter of time before she took his life.

If she wasn't careful, she'd get caught up in the political minefields. That was the last thing she wanted.

"I know you're thinking about it and you know I'm right." He said, leaning over her.

She brushed past him, getting into the elevator. "Shut up, Zephyr."

He pressed a button to go up. "You can call me Zeph since we're friends now."

"We're not friends—I was your mentor and that was it." She'd rather not get too close to any more people.

"Aw, I thought we were friends. Hey, I'm an orphan, don't you feel bad for me? No? Yes?" He pouted, trying to appeal to her by acting docile. "Then let's be friends."

Somehow, the image of Finnick crossed her mind when Zephyr spoke. She couldn't help but smile. "You know the last person who said that had to go through a lot to gain my trust."

"I don't think so. I mean you and Finnick have dinner at times. I wouldn't mind having a home cooked meal and sitting down to eat with someone, would be really nice."

Sharply, she turned her head to glance at him. "Who told you? Wait." There were two people she confided in about Finnick and their unscheduled dinners: Ramiel was one and the other. "Clarisse."

"She told me last...month..." He trailed off once he caught sight of Sera's face.

"I am going to hang Clarisse."

Blissfully unaware, Clarisse skipped over to the two with an iced drink in her hand. "I heard my name and 'hang'. Hopefully, it's something...good."

Amused, Zephyr turned to her and didn't hesitate to tell her about Sera's words. "Sera said she'd hang you for telling me about her dinners with...Finnick Odair." He deliberately whispered Finnick's name in fear their conversation might be heard.

Clarisse giggled, pointing a finger at Sera. "You said I couldn't tell your aunt and Talissa—Zeph was not included. Right Zeph?"

Zephyr nodded. "You can trust me. I'm not going to tell everyone or scream this from the rooftops. Though I am curious how it all came to be."

When he was done talking, he took a sip from Clarisse's drink straight out of her hand. If Huxley were to see the scene, he'd be in big trouble. But Huxley was nowhere to be found at that moment.

"It just happened." Sera would never confide in them what Finnick told her, she didn't want to humiliate him nor did she want to betray his trust. "Stop reading those sorts of books, Clarisse." She swiftly changed the topic.

"But I can finally afford to read as much as I can." Clarisse giggled again. Her gaze on her two friends was dark.

"I'm sure your brother is happy you're spending his money well."

"Hux said I could spend as much as I want."

Momentarily Clarisse caught that detached look on Sera's face and now even Zephyr had it. She had already gotten used to her brother becoming detached and colder. She didn't expect the same for her friends.

It hurt whenever she thought about her friends and her brother—all victors changed by the games.

The ones who returned were not whole, though Sera had become more empathetic lately, she was still detached at times like she wasn't here—a ghost had taken her place.

"I think it's a good thing that it happened. At least you're not alone all the time." Clarisse looped her arm around Sera's.

Sera didn't flinch away like she usually did for others, allowing her to drag her around. "I'm not alone most days anyways. I volunteer at this clinic so I'm always busy and surrounded by people."

"Not the same as sitting down and eating, having intimate conversations with people." Zephyr pointed out. Surprisingly, he was enjoying the conversation between the three of them.

Perhaps it was because Sera had loosened up since the first time they spoke or perhaps it was the bright presence of Clarisse, he didn't know. For the first time in Zephyr's life, he felt like he belonged.

Seeing Zephyr's happy expression, Sera smiled. She quickly turned around, going straight past her aunt's room, turning a corner to reach the sole door at the end of the small corridor.

The door was white with a glass window that had its blinds closed, giving off an ominous feel. It didn't help that the lights outside that door were unlit either.

Sera had been avoiding this door since the first day her family was brought to the Capitol. Her fear shackled her to the floor whenever she attempted to venture inside to visit.

Clarisse crouched down to her level. Though she was younger than Sera and Zephyr, she had grown taller than her friend. "It's okay if you don't want to go inside."

"I think it's time I stopped avoiding things." She tried to smile to show her strength. Her smile faltered, appearing more of a grimace than a smile.

Swallowing her fears, she turned the handle of the door. The cool metal sent shivers down her back when she touched it, turning it. The door opened.

Inside, it was dimly lit. Unlike the halls, there wasn't a faint scent of medicine, instead she could smell lavenders.

Her eyes examined the room as she took tentative steps inside. She stopped abruptly. "Who brought those?"

Clarisse innocently glanced at the bouquet of irises and white roses with juniper leaves. "Nox did. He's been coming here a lot."

Hearing Clarisse's answer, Sera relaxed. Nox had put a lot of thought into the bouquet. It upset her that Nox even had to do something like that.

Ramiel lay hooked to various tubes and machines. There was no movement in him but between the quiet hums and beeps of the machines, she could hear his soft breaths and see his chest rise and fall, indicating he was alive.

"They had to do surgery on Ramiel yesterday." Clarisse brightened the lights a little. "He woke up and talked, joked about his arm..."

Ramiel's left arm was a stump. It wasn't like that before—before it was a mangled mess with bones sticking out, ripped skin and exposed flesh.

"Talissa must've been mad"

"Oh she was furious. Wouldn't stop nagging him." Clarisse giggled, abruptly stopping. "...He asked about you, kept asking where you were—where were you?"

"I was busy."

"You were at the clinic."

"I was busy."

Clarisse scoffed. "How busy did you have to be to not check up on your own brother—look if that was Hux, I'd abandon everything to be at his side."

"Well," Sera pulled a chair to sit next to Ramiel's bed. "That's not Hux and you're not me. You won't understand."

A flash of hurt appeared on Clarisse's face as she let out choked noise. "I know that. I know I'm not you. I never said that I was...I just wanted to know what's so important that you couldn't even be here."

Zephyr quickly grabbed Clarisse, trying to drag her away. Clarisse snatched her arm back and glared at Sera who didn't even react. "Don't." She heard Zephyr quietly beg Clarisse to back down.

The younger girl sighed, looking away. "You know..." Clarisse began in a small voice as she took a few steps towards Sera. "there was a time when you used to tell me everything."

There was.

There was a time when her family was all she had and could trust. Clarisse and Huxley were included in that family. But now, there was a price on her trust. She didn't know what could happen if they knew the truth.

Would she lose them?

Would they resent her for the things she had been doing?

Would they pity her?

Or maybe they'd wish she had died in the arena?

"It should've been you." Eugene's raspy voice into her ears as his pale boney finger pointed at her. He grinned ear to ear before repeating. "YOU SHOULD'VE DIED!"

Sera didn't flinch or react to Eugene's specter. "And there was a time when I was bedridden and I didn't know when I'd die—that time...passed. That's how time changes things, Clarisse. I can't tell you everything now."

Saying those words hurt her more than she showed. She turned away from Clarisse and focused on Ramiel. She hoped things could've been different. They weren't. Clarisse would never know what it was like to be her and why she did what she did.

Zephyr rubbed Clarisse's back soothingly. He understood Sera. He couldn't say much without risking losing Clarisse so he did what he did best: he watched and he remembered.

Clarisse swallowed back her tears and glanced at Zephyr. She sucked in a breath. With a shaky voice, she started to speak. "Zephyr said he'd help Ramiel replace his arm—I know Talissa or your aunt doesn't want to take a replacement from...these people."

Sera raised her brows and looked at Zephyr. "And how is he going to do that?"

Zephyr took over from Clarisse and crouched down in front of Sera, being serious for once. "I told you I was good at building things."

"This is different."

"I know. I know. They gave Ramiel a trial prosthetic to try on last month."

"I didn't know that—I guess, Talissa turned it down."

"Actually, Ramiel turned it down himself." Clarisse interjected before shying away and letting Zephyr take the floor.

"As I was saying, I took a look at it and I made a few prototypes in the last two months based on that arm and I'm getting close to the final version."

Sensing her doubts, he carried on. "I can show you if you'd like. It works, I know it does because I saw and studied the ones they offered him."

She studied him for a second. "This is you trying to prove something isn't it?" The conversation she, Huxley and Zephyr had before Nero's fire sprung into her mind then.

"You said opportunities are hard to come by."

"So you're using my brother as your guinea pig!" She was up and stomping towards Zephyr before she could stop herself.

"This isn't...right. He just...wants...to help." Sera flinched when she heard Gaius' strangled voice. "Look at him, he wants to help."

And she looked.

Only then did she realize she had pinned Zephyr to the wall. Her hand pulling at the collar of his silk shirt and Clarisse struggling to pry her off of him.

Sera should've let go but something was compelling her not to.

"He's going to...hurt your brother." Eugene giggled as his specter flickered next to Gaius'. The two past tributes stared at her with their lifeless hollow eyes beckoning her to make her choice.

Her chest felt tight and her hands were shaking. She didn't let go. "My brother's life isn't something you can use, Nikolas. Find another opportunity!"

"Sera!" Clarisse clawed at Sera's hand, desperately trying to loosen Sera's grips.

Zephyr calmly stared at Sera. "I just want to help."

"I don't believe you." Sera spat out, anger blinding her.

Her mind clouded, she pushed him back against the wall again. His head hit the wall and he flinched in pain. Eugene's face appeared in place of Zephyr and before she could stop herself, she had wrapped her hands around his throat.

"Sera...SERAPHINE!" A cacophony of voices yelled out her name. She could distinctly hear Clarisse, Talissa, Huxley, her aunt, Finnick and...Ramiel.

The trance was broken.

Eugene's specter glared at Sera before he flickered out of her gaze. The dark red fog around her vision lifted and she could now see eyes on her.

Her brother was sitting up, clutching his sheets horrified at what she had done. Next to him was Talissa and Huxley. Her aunt wasn't far off. She wasn't alone. Finnick was with her.

Why was he with her?

There was someone else with them too. Someone she didn't recognize. An old woman, she looked old enough to be Finnick's grandmother. It only took her a second to realize the curly haired and pale freckled old woman was none other than Mags Flanagan.

Guilt and shame flooded her as she stumbled back. She spent over a year crafting an image and within minutes, she ripped it to shreds.

Stupid. Stupid Sera.

Zephyr immediately sprang to his feet. "Ah, I should really stop trying to pick fights with Sera." He said between feigned laughter. He resisted the urge to soothe the bruise around his neck.

Clarisse and Ramiel both tried to join in. Even aunt Dahlia tried to make an excuse, a poor excuse for Sera's outburst. "Hah, Sera's not usually like this. Zephyr and her...were just playing around, weren't they?"

Zephyr vigorously nodded while Sera stared down at her hands, not listening to anyone.

Mags Flanagan stared at the young girl with pity and reached out to calm her as if she knew what Sera was thinking. Even Huxley tried to approach her. The former victors tried to reach her, she slipped past them and left the room.

It was hard to think or even breathe. Her chest ached and she needed some space.

She ran out to the familiar gardens of the clinic. Usually, she'd spend time here when she was working, carefully selecting each individual flower from these beds and making a bouquet before spraying it with poison.

Her body trembled even more. She felt cold. So cold that she hugged the light blazer around her shoulders tightly. It was still summer—for her it was like she was back in the arena.

For a moment back there, she became Eugene, the person she swore she'd never be. She was about to wring the life out of Zephyr who only seemed to want to help. She knew that—the rational part of her knew that, she just couldn't bring herself to listen.

She hated herself, she hated what she was becoming. She hated everything. A broken sob escaped her and she quickly muffled it. Her insides were burning—she wanted to throw up her insides. Maybe then, she'd feel a little lighter.

"Oh." Abruptly her sobbing ceased when she heard a soft feminine voice. "I...I didn't realize there was someone here."

"I was just passing by." Sera smiled and acted as if was fine.

The woman in front of her narrowed her eyes and nodded. She was a peculiar woman, loosely tied black hair with gold in the underside of her hair peeking through. Her eyes were dark.

Her face appeared familiar.

"Tamora Astbury." Her voice was light and airy. Her name sounded familiar, where had Sera heard that name before? She kept wondering as Tamora kept going on. "I'd add Consul before that but I haven't been one for a while."

"Nice to meet you."

Sera tried to excuse herself, Tamora stood in her way. "Aren't you going to introduce yourself—admittedly, I already know who you are."

"Then there's no need for introductions."

Tamora's smile faded. Her gaze darkened. She bowed her head. Only then Sera realized who she was. Minister Thistlewood's so-called sickly sister.

"There isn't." Knowing who she was, Sera tried to leave once more. "You know who my brother is."

"Excuse me?" Sera said with a soft laugh.

Was Tamora threatening her?

She tried to read Tamora. It was hard. Like her brother, she had a perpetually blank face.

Minister Thistlewood's sister held out her hand in front of Sera. "Oh don't get me wrong, I'm not trying to threaten you." She looked around before carrying on. "I heard about what happened at Five."

"It was on the news."

"I know my brother had something to do with it."

Narrowing her eyes on Tamora, Sera clasped her hands together in front of her. The former Consul smiled awkwardly, happy she had Sera's attention. "That...is a serious accusation. Aren't you afraid the wrong person might hear it and your brother might be in trouble."

Tamora grinned, startling Sera. "Oh I hope he will be."

Confused, Sera tilted her head to the side and looked around. There was only her and Tamora in the clinic's garden. "He's your brother. Shouldn't you care about him?"

"Why should I? He didn't care about me enough to spare my husband." Ah that was it. Tamora Astbury was looking for a way to get back at her brother.

Nervously, Sera backed away. "Why are you telling me this?"

"I saw you run out from the window of my room and I had to speak to you."

"Why is that?"

The former Consul was silent for a moment before she smiled oddly. "Did I mention I was a Consul? I was the Consul before Consul Talcott—I actually recommended him. Unfortunately he didn't last so long."

Sera's heart dropped. She dug her nails into her palms, plastering on a smile while focusing on the pain. "Oh is that so? What a small world."

"You were one of the last people to see his sickly son after he died, The Talcotts were all declared traitors—isn't that strange?"

"Very. I had no idea."

Tamora's grin grew bigger. Sera refused to back down. "I don't believe that."

"Well, I'm sure it looks suspicious but I've been very busy with volunteering at the clinic or taking care of my own family. It's a shame that most of my patients are the...high risk ones—you know what that means, right?"

"The ones on their deathbeds." Tamora guessed, her eyes became sad for a moment. "...This is getting nowhere." She muttered under her breath. "Look I know what you've been up to. I was the Consul, I have connections in the Senate—"

"Who doesn't know what I'm doing, my charity work is reputable. I'm not really a fan of it myself. It's hard."

The more the conversation went on, the more Tamora became agitated. Sera kept dodging her attempts at a real conversation about her 'work'. She clicked her tongue.

Tamora grabbed her by her shoulders, digging her nails in and leaning in close. "I know you're killing your charges." She hissed, just quiet enough for only two of them to hear. "And I know the President tasked you with watching over my brother this evening—I have ears everywhere I know so don't lie to me."

Unphased, Sera swatted her hands away and took a step back. "Those are some serious accusations, Miss Astbury."

"Mrs." Tamora corrected with a pained breath. "I've been watching you for months—I don't know how to appeal to you, I heard you care about your family," Sera stiffened. "Maybe if I tell you about mine, you'd care a little? I don't know—I had a family. A husband, two sons and three daughters."

"Had? Did they—" Tamora nodded. "My condolences."

"My brother had them killed because they went against him—the President and that hypocrite is doing the exact same thing." Sera was left unmoved by her tears. "Please..." Teary–eyed, Tamora tried to reach out for Sera but Sera caught it in the air.

Blank-faced, Sera gripped her arm. "Did he put you up to this?" She quietly asked. She didn't trust the desperate pleading woman at all. Her trust was limited and hard earned.

"I hate my brother. I want him dead. I would never..." Sera remained unmoved. "The Capitol Riots—surely you know about them."

"I'm from the Districts."

Tamora's face fell. She gnawed on the bottom of her lips while pacing. "Do you know...Emilia Merchant? Of course you do, she was your escort. I'm a good friend of hers and...Plutarch Heavensbee..."

And there it was.

The person Tamora might've been working with. Sera's face hardened and she finally decided to stop pretending.

"So Plutarch put you up to this."

Under her cold gaze, Tamora trembled a little. "No, no one did. He only told me what you're doing. I know my brother is interested in you. He sees you as the latest prize to his sick collection and believe me you don't want to be part of that."

"I'm working for President Snow, I'm sure everyone is aware of that."

Tamora started to laugh. Her crazed laughter echoed through the entire garden. Her laughs eventually turned into weak coughs as she stopped herself.

From an outsider's perspective, it seemed like Sera trusted the President and believed he would protect her—he wouldn't. She wasn't a fool. She was also using him as a shield.

"Do you honestly believe the President will protect you? You're only a pawn in his eyes." Sera flinched and took a step back but Tamora carried on. "I used to be as naïve as you. I believed my brother even though he was the worst man I knew, look what he did to me."

Without a warning, Tamora took off her light cardigan to reveal her scarred arms. Small cuts and burns littered her pale arm.

"And that's just what you can see easily. There's more where you can't see." Tamora said with a blank face and sad eyes. "They're all using you—President Snow is using you too. He'll use you to draw my brother out even if it means you'll break."

Pain shot through her chest, she struggled to breath let alone speak but outside she put a calm and cool façade. "You're not...any different." She picked up Tamora's cardigan, handing it to her.

"I'm going to die soon." Tamora revealed.

"I'm sorry to hear that but I don't know what that has to do with me."

"I need your help."

She pursed her lips and nodded. "I can't help you. You're better off asking Plutarch."

"He can't." Tamora looked around. She kept looking around every so often as if she was afraid someone was watching her. "He can't help me. You know he was poisoned recently."

"I'd hardly say it was recent and he's fine now."

"But he's too busy protecting himself."

"Ah, I think you're mistaken. Everyone calls me 'saint' or an 'angel' because of what I did in the arena—I'm not any of those. I'm just a person. I'm sorry."

"I'll pay you."

Sera scoffed. There was a time when she could've been bought off easily with money but it was in the past. "I don't sell myself for money." She spat out. Her silvery eyes cut through Tamora sharply like a dagger and the former Consul trembled under her gaze.

How pathetic. The sister of the great Minister Janus Thistlewood cowering like a sheep in front of a young girl. Truly pathetic. A part of her did sympathize with her, still Sera couldn't bring herself to listen to her pleas. She had her own problems. Tamora's brother was one of them.

"I'm desperate. I have no—"

Before Tamora could continue to beg, the familiar voice of Finnick cut through the harsh conversation. "Seraphine?" he called out.

Hearing him, Tamora steeled herself and hastily covered herself with her cardigan. "My, is that Finnick Odair?" Gone was her sadness replaced by an odd arrogance.

Finnick appeared from behind a marble pillar. His face brightened when he saw Sera but it immediately dulled after when Tamora met his gaze.

"Consul—ah, I mean Mrs Astbury." He greeted her with a little bow.

"Skip the formalities, Odair. I see you're still angry with me."

"I have no reason to be." He flashed a charming boyish smile that would've swayed hundreds in the Capitol but Tamora stayed fixed where she stood.

It was cold around the two of them and Sera thought about leaving while the two were distracted. Unfortunately as if they had read her thoughts, the two turned to look at her and Sera froze.

"Well, isn't this...interesting." Tamora commented, examining Finnick and Sera. "The Capitol press would eat this up."

"Mrs Astbury."

Finnick barely got a word in, Tamora was already waving him off. "Fortunately I'm not that kind of a person. Your secrets are safe with me." She smiled and turned to leave, stopping a little. "Oh and Miss Reza, I really hope you consider what I said."

Tamora left just as she had appeared, quietly with little fanfare.

"What are you doing out here?" Finnick and Sera said at the same time.

The two paused and smiled at their simultaneous speech with Finnick waving Sera to continue.

"I needed some air, I've had a long and rough evening." Sera decided to just skip questioning Finnick and carry on. "Besides, the garden looks great so what brings you here? Did you follow me?"

Obviously he did follow her. He hesitated to speak. "It seems that way, doesn't it? Yes, I did."

"Go ahead then. Tell me how I messed up."

"I would but first," He looked away towards where Tamora had left. "Please tell me you're not acquainted with her?"

"Minister Thistlewood's sister?" He nodded. "This is the first time I met her." Something happened between the two. Sera wanted to ask him but stopped. It wasn't her place to know.

"Aren't you going to ask me anything?"

"Are you going to tell me?"

"Good point. We both have a thing about—"

"No, we both have reasons to not talk about something."

"Oh look at you defending me."

"I'm not defending you."

He laughed. "Sure. I believe that. I trust you—I don't know if that feelings mutual."

He trusted her, the thought of it made her feel a little happy. The happiness was short-lived when she saw flickers of Eugene's specter in the corner of her eyes. "Since you trust me, maybe you can tell me something about Tamora Astbury."

Was she taking advantage of his trust? Yes. Her conscience did take a hit when she asked him that. Yet she had done worse things in the past. Her conscience was now a mere whisper among the ghosts that haunted her.

He stared at her for a second. She really did have a talent for leading conversations to her desired destinations, he had to admit.

"I can."

"Will you?"

"Maybe." But he also had a talent of avoiding things he didn't want to talk about.

Sera was persistent. "Here I thought we were friends. I mean as friends, we should look out for each other."

"We should." He admitted. "Tamora Astbury is someone who doesn't keep her promises." Was all he could give her at that moment. Anymore and he'd start convulsing and throw up his insides.

"What promise did she make you?"

He didn't say anything and Sera contemplated repeating her question. Suddenly, he looked up. His sea-green eyes were red and misty as if he was about to cry. She understood why.

"She said she'd try to get me out." His voice was barely a whisper. He sucked in a breath and let it go. "As you can see me, I'm still here, in this awful situation. At least it could be worse. I could be dead."

"Better dead than alive than suffering." Sera muttered. What she said was heartless but it was her honest belief.

Finnick didn't seem to think so. "No it's not." He was more alarmed by her words than anything. "Please tell me you don't honestly believe that."

She did. She tried to say something, her mouth moving but no words came out. All the words were stuck in her throat, making her choke. "Is it wrong to believe that?"

His eyes widened. Before he could stop himself, he grabbed her by her shoulders. His gaze met hers. "It's wrong. It's really wrong. Yes being alive and suffering is painful, more painful than anyone would like but at least we're alive and there's hope in that. Hope for a better future. Hope for change."

"Hope isn't something you can base your future on."

"It is. Hope keeps us going."

"Even if there's nothing at the end of the tunnel?"

He couldn't answer her. "I'd like to believe there is something."

She didn't say anything else. She didn't know what to say. The conversation around their different occupations was always difficult. Unlike him, she wasn't just thinking about herself, she was also thinking about her loved ones.

To her their future was bleak.

Sometimes, she envied him a little though she'd never wish for his fate.

Silence between the two was deafening. Neither knew what to say to break the ice that had formed all of a sudden. Finnick plucked a single red tulip and handed it to her without a word.

Seeing the flower, Sera couldn't help but let out a laugh. "What? No one's going to notice if one flower in a garden full of hundreds is missing."

"That's not why I was laughing." She carefully took the flower, holding it up. "You know you should be careful when you give someone flowers especially if you don't know what they mean, people might get the wrong idea."

"By people, you mean you." Finnick grinned and Sera shrugged. "What do red tulips mean?"

"I'm not telling you."

"Then maybe you shouldn't have laughed. Tell me."

If she told him, things would become awkward between the two so Sera kept her mouth shut. She shook her head and turned away from him.

"This is very unfair." He complained. "What if I give a red tulip to someone isn't you, say President Snow."

The image of President Snow with a bouquet of red tulips was a funny one and one she conjured up with much difficulty. To Sera, white roses were eponymous with the President. "I hardly think you'd do something like that. He likes white roses, not red, white. Red tulips are the last thing he'd ever accept and we both know you're smart enough to not make that mistake."

"Okay, what if I wasn't."

"But you are. This is a pointless argument but thank you for the flower, you can ask what you want."

"To think it was that simple. I should give you a flower every time I have something to say to you, maybe then you'll be a little nicer."

"I am nice." Finnick tilted his head to the side. "Sometimes." Sera added, looking away. "What were you doing with my aunt?"

Finnick quickened his pace to keep up with Sera as she led him to a marble fountain in the center of the garden. "I thought I was the one asking questions."

"You missed your chance."

He nodded and went to pluck another flower, a lily of the valley but Sera stopped him. "What? Do you not like that one?"

She looked away for a second and became silent before she answered. "That flower is poisonous. Best case scenario, it'll cause seizures—"

"Worst case?"

"Death."

Promptly he backed off the lily. "Why is there a poisonous flower at a hospital garden?" He complained, staring the small buds of the lilies down.

"Like all poisons, it can also be used medicinally."

Impressed, he looked up, only to see Sera deeply enamored by the lilies. She was in deep thought and reached out for one but he was quicker. "You know an awful lot about these poisonous flowers."

"My sister worked with them. We didn't have much so we had to use what we could as medicine."

He nodded, allowing a comfortable silence to build up between the two. As always, he kept his gaze on her, watching her every move.

"She was lost." He suddenly said, lifting the veil of silence. "Your aunt, she was lost. Mags found her wandering around the halls and struck a conversation with her, one thing led to another and somehow she started talking to me. I didn't approach her. I kept my word to you."

"So that's what happened." Her aunt, as far as she knew, was good with directions. Maybe her sickness was getting worse. "And I don't remember you making any promises."

His eyes widened and he let out a soft laugh, he realized Sera never asked him to keep his distance from her family, only her and only when the two were in public. "I didn't."

"No, you didn't. My aunt's an overly friendly person."

"Complete opposite of you."

"She's my aunt. Not my mother."

"Well they're sisters."

"You've seen my sister, right?"

He nodded. "The two of you don't really look alike."

"No, we don't and we don't even act alike. She's too..."

"Stuck-up and stressed out."

Sera turned on her feet and pointed the tulip at him. "That's my sister." She lightly warned and he held his hands up in surrender. "She's not stuck-up...she's just a little weary of strangers."

"Kinda like you, which brings me back to my original point." He grinned brightly when Sera realized what he had done. She poked the inside of her cheek before she lightly punched him. "Ouch, someone's a little violent today."

"Try being stuck in a ballroom full of pompous, stuck-up and wealthy idiots."

"Pompous." He giggled, stopping when Sera glared at him. "Was trying to squeeze the life out of your former tribute a result of that too?"

"No." It surprised how honest she was actually being. She was a little scared. "It wasn't. Zephyr wanted to make a prosthetic arm for my brother."

"What's the problem with that?" Sera stared at Finnick for a minute. He tried to figure out what she meant and it took him a while before he understood. "Oh, he's trying to—that's smart."

"Yeah, well, my brother is the one who's being used at the end of the day."

"I don't see him being harmed. He'll let Zephyr show off his 'talents', Zephyr gets saved from any...unsavory work and your brother goes home safe. Nobody gets hurt."

Despite making sense, Finnick sounded a little too optimistic for Sera. It was a tough gamble and again if she wasn't careful, she'd be the one involved.

Considering his words and Zephyr's, she didn't have much of a choice. Weighing it all up, Zephyr's help was the easiest choice—her family wouldn't be in more debt to the Capitol. "Maybe, you're right." She slowly answered, plucking a petal from the tulip. "Maybe I should've thought it through."

"You should've." He sighed.

She looked up at him with a few petals in her hand. "That's not all, is it?"

"Your aunt invited me and Mags to dinner."

And she let the petals drop. Trust her aunt to be overly friendly to anyone. Though Finnick and Mags weren't anyone. "Of course she did." She said with a sigh.

Finnick watched her with a look of unease. He wouldn't be lying if he said he wasn't interested in the invitation. Admittedly, he envied Sera and wished he still had his family. No matter how much he tried to get rid of the green feeling, he couldn't.

He swallowed back his greed, distancing himself from her a little. "I can tell her 'no' and say that Mags and I'll be busy anyways since Games began."

"The Games?" Her mind had completely blanked out the Games. Despite being at the reaping last week, she'd almost forgotten about it. "Right, the Games. I forgot about those."

He shook his head in disbelief but there was a playful grin on his face. "How does a victor forget about the Games?"

"When they have too much on their mind." She answered easily. Her silvery eyes shone brightly for once, taking him by surprise. She was calmer and a little happier than before. Perhaps she did enjoy his company. "If only you knew what I have going on?"

"Maybe you can tell me."

Her eyes dulled. His heart dropped as he made the wrong choice. "Another time." He had no choice but to listen. "And you can accept my aunt's invitation."

"Really?" He couldn't hide the joy in his voice even when he tried to. "I mean, really? Are you sure? I can say no. It's not a problem. I'm sure—"

"Finnick." He stopped rambling as Sera looked him in the eye. "You know you ramble when you're happy."

"I do?" She nodded.

"It's a little hard for me to keep up."

"I'll try not to do that in the future."

Sera started walking away. "I never said it was a bad thing."

He smiled and tried to keep up with her. "Thank you."


Flower/Plant Dictionary

Iris - Hope

White Rose - 'Thinking of you'

Juniper - Protection

Red Tulip - Declaration of love