CHAPTER 3

After dropping off Mags at her house, Darya quickly makes her way back home, the sun is already up, and she needs to shower and get ready. When she reaches the two-story house she sees that Finnick had already dropped off a crate of fish at their doorstep. Opening the door, quickly she picks up the crate and carries it inside dragging it into the kitchen. Annie hears her come in and quickly moves to help her cousin with the crate, Darya looks up and sees that Annie is already dressed and her hair is braided back.

"You look beautiful Annie, yellow really suits you." Darya compliments.

"Oh hush Dar, you go and get ready, I'll put everything away." Annie offers blushing but smiling nonetheless as she shoos her cousin out of the kitchen.

Darya runs up the stairs and bolts into her room, Annie thankfully had laid out a dress for her to wear, grabbing a clean towel from her closet Darya runs back out and into the bathroom.

Slipping out of Finnick's shirt, which makes her blush again, Darya steps into the shower and rinses off the sea salt from her hair.

After she's dried and dressed, Darya starts working on her still slightly damp hair, sitting on her vanity Darya takes out some pretty dark felt strips, parting her hair she starts weaving them into her hair. Once she's done, she loops in some of her beaded stones.

Grabbing Finnick's shirt before making her way back downstairs she calls to Annie.

"Annie are you finished, I almost forgot to tell you, Finnick invited us over for breakfast." Darya said hurriedly.

When she makes it downstairs she sees Annie blushing deeply, the phone in her hand quickly hung up. Curious, Darya stops and grins giving her flustered cousin a raised eyebrow before she teasingly breaks the silence.

"Should I tell Finnick you can't make it?" Darya asks cheekily causing Annie to only blush deeper.

"Dylan invited me over for breakfast." Annie answers shyly. Dylan being the blonde boy from Darya's neighboring stall at the bazaar, he sells fresh bait if she recalls, Finnick sometimes buys some from him. She had seen Dylan and Annie talking before and had noticed them being sweet on each other, but she hadn't realized there was anything more serious going on.

"You don't mind, do you?" Annie asked nervously, now realizing how unthoughtful she was being at thinking of spending Darya's last reaping day with Dylan," I'll call him back and tell him I can't."

"Don't you dare Annie Cresta! And break that poor boy's heart, go on, I'll see you after." Darya answered kindly. Giving her blushing sweet cousin a hug and a kiss, Darya hurried out the door and headed to Finnick's, his shirt in hand.

Annie's place was the furthest from the beach, but it stood in the same row as Finnick's, who incidentally was the closest to it, they were all surrounded by the sea though, the Victor's Village located on the peninsula side of the district, but his living room had the best view in her opinion.

Reaching her destination, Darya strolled in without bothering to knock, Mags wasn't here yet she realized and Finnick wasn't downstairs, though she did see that he had already prepped everything for their meal. Hearing the shower start upstairs, she decided that frying the fish wouldn't do well with their freshly showered hair and decided to make a stew instead. Taking out a pot, Darya placed it in the sink and starting pumping water into it then placing it on the stove, igniting the flame, she dropped in the vegetables that Finnick had cut up, for a side dish presumably, and started to cut up the fish to add in. After mixing in all the ingredients and adding some sea salt, she covered it up and let it simmer, so it would be done by the time Finnick made it downstairs and Mags arrived.

Lifting Finnick's shirt from where she had draped it over a dining room chair when she had started cooking, she took it to the small laundry room. The room was quite small in comparison to the other rooms in the house but the small light blue room was one of her favorites, it had a washer and dryer but it also had a decent sized sink with three smooth sides and one ridged. Dropping Finnick's shirt in, Darya turns on the faucet and let's the water run and soak the shirt, reaching under the sink she takes out a green block of soap. Once Finnick's shirt is completely drenched, Darya begins lathering it with the bar, once it's been covered to her satisfaction she sets down the soap and takes one fistful of the shirt in one hand and starts brushing it against the ridged side. Darya brushes, rinses, and lathers and continues in this pattern for a while, the motions meditative to her as she zones out looking out the window above the sink, she can see the sea. A teasing voice breaks Darya from her reverie and she turns her head to the doorway.

"I think the shirt is clean Dar." Finnick says amused, his body leaning on the doorway, arms crossed and an affectionate grin on his face. Darya takes him in, he's dressed in a nice blue buttoned linen shirt and smart white linen trousers, the clothes are simple but well-made and they fit him well. His water straightened hair is already starting to dry and curl and his white straight teeth smile up to one side dimpling his smoothly shaved cheek. When she reaches his glinting eyes, so reminiscent of the sea, smiling back at her, Darya briefly thinks she wouldn't mind drowning. Looking at him looking at her like that, makes Darya's stomach flutter and fill her with the urge to do something, but she's not so sure what.

When she says nothing, worried, Finnick steps into the room and walks closer, she's standing in front of the only light source in the room and Finnick can't help but stop and admire her figure haloed by the sun, her dark hair glittering like dark water in the moonlight, her pale skin glowing and her eyes shining like pools of gold in this light, her feminine hands pink and covered in suds. Finnick notices her breathing pick up and he realizes he's breathing hard too and that he is somehow now standing so close he can feel her breath on his face, even though he doesn't remember moving. And then she bites her lips and he can't help but just stare at them and his gaze darkens and his hand lands on her waist and hers on his arm, and then their roaming eyes meet and Finnick feels like the breath has been kicked out of him and her eyes flutter and he feels himself leaning in and then a melodic knock followed by an opening door has them both release each other as if burned.

Mags appears in the doorway and can't help to notice the mixture of relief and annoyance in both of their blushing faces and she grins widely. She decides not to comment on the tension in the room and instead gleefully tells them, "Foo iz dun." And walks back out into the dining room.

Finnick runs a hand through his hair and clears his throat awkwardly the silence in the room suffocating him, breaking it he starts to speak.

"Dar-," he says but is interrupted quickly by Darya.

"You go set the table Finnick, I'll be there in a minute, I'm almost done." Darya orders gently, her eyes only on the fabric in her hands, she stretches and turns it in her hands firmly, expelling the water from his shirt.

Finnick doesn't move, he wants to say something but he isn't sure what, he feels like he should apologize or something for what almost happened, but he kind of realizes he doesn't want to, and that confuses him even more, so with one last look he decides to listen and heads to do just what she asks.

After the table has been set, and Mags has been ushered to her seat, Finnick carries the pot of stew and lays it on the marble slab on the center of the table. He's about to call for Darya, when he sees her walk in, her cheeks faintly blushing as their eyes meet, she offers him a small smile, and he can't help but feel a great sense of relief.

They both sit down and serve themselves some stew and begin to eat, the awkwardness from before gone, the conversation flows nicely, with Mags complimenting Darya on her cooking and Finnick jokingly scolding her for cooking when he was supposed to and insisting he do the dishes.

When breakfast is officially over they move on to the living room, Mags settling in nicely on the couch, their nonsensical chatter lulling her to sleep. Darya smiles affectionately toward Mags sleeping figure and can't help but let out a soft yawn, she's tired too, feeling eyes on her she sees Finnick gazing at her in amusement.

"You should nap too Dar, you been up all night." Finnick offers kindly.

"So have you." Darya points out, pouting, causing Finnick to laugh lightly.

"I suppose you're right, but I did sleep yesterday, and I know for a fact you're on your second night Dar, c'mon." Finnick says offering her his hand, which she takes softly.

Leading her up the stairs and into his room, Finnick offers up his bed, which she takes after some mild convincing. Laying down on the left side of the bed, she sleepily makes out that she has a couple of hours before she supposed to make her way to the reaping.

Finnick covers her up with a soft knitted blanket that he's pretty sure she's made and makes his way out of the room, closing the door lightly behind him. Grabbing another blanket from a linen closet in the hallway, he makes his way back downstairs and drapes a blanket over Mags too. He heads to kitchen and starts washing the dishes they used for breakfast, when that's done he heads back to the living room and lays down on the couch opposite where Mags is snoring, laying his arm over his head he lets Mags familiar snores lull him to sleep, his last thought on finding it interesting that Darya likes to sleep on the left side of the bed.

When Darya awakens the first thing she notices is that she's not in her room, then she remembers that she's at Finnick's, and that it's reaping day today. Sitting up quickly she looks to the clock on Finnick's nightstand, they've overslept, it's past noon already. Jumping up from the bed Darya quickly runs to door, wrenches it open and runs downstairs. Finnick and Mags are both still sleeping, and Darya feels guilty at having to wake them but she does so anyways, they all need to leave in the next five minutes, especially Darya.

Nudging him gently Darya carefully eases him awake, from experience she knows it is never a good idea to wake him too quickly.

"Finnick, Fin wake up." Darya whispers quietly but urgently.

Slowly she sees him stirring, his sleepy eyes opening slightly and staring blearily at her, he gives her a lazy smile.

"Bootifull." He says and he looks so silly and it's just so Finnick that Darya can't help but laugh, because of course Finnick Odair's first instinct when he wakes up is to flirt, even when he should look like fool.

"Finnick, get up, we overslept and we're late." Darya says.

At her words Finnick sits up right away and stares at her seriously, he knows as well as she that if Darya doesn't show up the consequences will be ghastly.

"Run Darya, you go on, I'll worry about Mags, Go!" Finnick quickly rushes her, pushing her firmly toward the door as he quickly makes his way to Mags.

At his command Darya runs out of the house, not stopping to look back, she runs faster than she's ever run before and even when she gets a stich on her side and she feels her legs starting to cramp and her feet start to hurt, she doesn't slow down until she sees the entrance to the square, the Justice Building looming in the background. She's the last to check in, barely noticing the prick on her finger or the snide remark of her cutting it close from one of the table operators. She quickly makes her way to the 18-year-old women's section, the other girls shuffle to make room for her, no one says anything, even if they are technically a career district, it's still Reaping Day.

She sees the District 4 escort standing on stage arms crossed and tapping her foot impatiently before turning to the other four seated victors and asking something, her voice can be made out to them, and Darya holds back a laugh as she realizes that the microphone picks up what she's saying.

"Where is HE, we go live in five minutes people!" she says impatiently.

She sees Muscida Selkirk and Librae Ogilvy shrug, biting back smiles. Ron Stafford, the only other male victor from 4, scoffs and answers with an uninterested 'who cares', and Annie, distractedly scanning the crowds, assures her that Finnick and Mags would be there soon.

She realizes Annie is scanning the crowd looking for her, and guiltily remembers that she was supposed to meet up with her after breakfast, she must be worried. She wants to call out to her or something to tell her she's here but can't figure out a way to let her know without bringing attention to herself, a relieved voice brings her attention back to the stage.

"Finally, I know you love an entrance dear, but really you're cutting it close!" she hears the escort reprimand, as Finnick struts up the steps with Mags in hand, he answers her by winking.

Taking a seat next to Annie after helping Mags to hers, he whispers something that makes Annie release a breath of relief and sit back more relaxed. Darya guesses he told her she had left before them and that she must be in the crowd already.

The music starts and Darya straightens her back, there are cameras everywhere, it's 4's turn now and she knows the whole Capitol is watching. Mayor Stafford, Ron Stafford's father, goes up to the podium and starts reciting the usual speech about the history of the hunger games and the "Dark Days". No one is listening, they never do because no one cares, instead everyone waits in anticipation of who will be chosen this year.

She chances a look at some of the people she knows are from the "Academy". She knows that most of them are orphans like her, a very rare few decide to choose to train to be a career at the "Academy", if no one claims you when you are orphaned that is where they send you. It supposed to be a comfortable life for the most part, you'll have plenty to eat and a warm bed at night, but it's a strict upbringing and you would spend anywhere from eight to twelve hours of day just training, and you were expected to volunteer if a career wasn't chosen, usually for the younger kids though.

Darya and her brother Fen were both saved from that fate by their Uncle Marius, Annie's father, but sometimes Darya wondered what would have happened if he hadn't claimed them, and she and Fen had to go to the Academy, if Fen being trained would have meant he would have survived the games longer. She always felt like he would have but she knows deep down he would have never won, Annie was always going to be coming home, he would have made sure of that.

Sighing, she makes herself pay attention, if she could just make it through the next thirty minutes and she wasn't called, she would be safe and it would all be over, and then she could sleep. Setting her eyes on the stage she sees the green haired Escort, Pimply something, she can't remember, utter the infamous words.

"And may the odd be ever in your favor!" she announces before moving toward the bowl carrying the boys' names. She makes a show of it by shaking the names around with her purple clawed hands before she picks one and walks back to the microphone to announce the name.

"Gillian Dorsin." she says clearly in her Capitolian accent.

She sees the boys in the group standing next to hers shuffling and moving out of the way, he's eighteen at least, Darya thinks before she sees him. He's tall and olive-skinned with wavy brown hair, he would definitely be classified as handsome she thinks. As he makes his way out of the group toward the center of the path that leads to the stage, she can hear people start to whisper around him, he's a career. At one point he's standing right across from her and they lock eyes, they're a striking green, he stares at her only for a second longer before making his way up to the stage.

"Lovely, and now for the ladies!" the Escort says after Gillian reaches the stage.

She moves to the girls' bowl now and sticks her hand all the way in before pulling out one of the slips, she taps her way back to the microphone again, Darya feels her heart hammering in her chest.

"Brooke Seadee." the Escort sing songs.

Darya exhales relieved, much of the other girls also breathing out in relief too, a few, Darya is disgusted to notice, genuinely disappointed. When she sees the 12-year-old group move and shift, Darya feels her stomach drop in guilt and burn in righteous anger, she's so little just like her little red-headed cousins, she thinks before she sees her. She's thin but healthy, her blonde hair braided in two fishtails, she's not as tall as the other girls but she's not the shortest, Darya can't help but think she's seen her before. Why isn't anyone volunteering for her Darya thinks angrily, those are the rules, so why isn't anyone saying anything, then she realizes, and she figures everyone else does too, by their pained faces, none of the career girls are eligible yet. They all watch her make her way shakily to the stage, her starfish orange dress, somehow garishly macabre in the sea of blues, greens and whites. She's looks so familiar to Darya she has to rack her brain to figure out where she's seen her before, maybe she was a school friend of one of her cousins, but she doesn't remember them ever hanging out with any blondes. The girl now carefully reaches the stairs, Darya can see her little hands shakily holding the railing as she makes her way up the stage, maybe she stopped by the bazaar one weekend and bought something at her table. The little girl makes it to the stage where the Escort places her in place for the cameras, her eyes are a deep blue, and then Darya remembers and her stomach drops and her mouth goes dry, it's her.

It's her, the little girl from all those years ago, the one who almost drowned, the one who her mother died saving, it's her. Before the Escort can finish asking if there are any volunteers, Darya hears herself shouting.

"Me! I volunteer! I volunteer! Please!"