A long year had passed. Annie was safe from the 69th Annual Hunger Games, now eighteen, and able to see a future where the threat of the Games wasn't as prominent to her.
Finnick, of course, had to leave her to mentor, and visit clients. His tributes died on him fairly quickly, which was no surprise. It broke his heart to hear the stories of how they died. He never even had the chance to watch the games, he was booked back to back with clients every day.
When he returned home, he scooped Annie in his arms, and cried. He vowed to her that one day, he would never have to see the Capitol again. Neither one of them knew how true that was, or how far away it would be, but it gave them hope.
Their days were fairly simple. Annie would wake up early, and make breakfast for the two of them, and bring a serving to her mother, while Finnick would bring one to Mags. They both would sit and talk to one another for hours on end. Mags had become a mother to Finnick, and Annie treasured the time she had with her own. Eventually, though, both parties would have to disband.
Finnick would meet her in the market, and they would buy whatever they felt like eating for dinner. Since money was no concern, Finnick would pay way more than what was asked. A ten dollar fish turned into a hundred dollar fish. Everytime they went, Finnick would find a different seller, so the wealth was able to be distributed.
It was fair to say that everyone in the district knew about Finnicks trips to the Capitol, and about him seeing a new person every day. They all assumed that Annie was playing the fool, that she had no idea of his affairs.
That, of course, wasn't true. She knew about it all, and supported him every step of the way. She was convinced, though, that the farthest the two of them would ever get would be a kiss on the lips. That was okay with her.
The Capitol didn't have what she had. Annie had love from Finnick. They could lay on the beach together for hours, basking in the sun, without a care in the world. They had the simple things in life. Cooking breakfast, getting food, reading books each night. She got the carefree side of Finnick.. The happy side.
She could sacrifice intimacy for love.
Regardless of how much they tried to fight it, the Reaping for the 70th Hunger Games was coming up fast. They both knew Annie's name was put in the minimum amount of times possible. She was luckier than others, never needing rations.
Finnick knew his days at home were numbered, but was willing to do anything to get more. It was the night before the reaping, and he made his way to another Victor's home, hoping for pity.
He knocked on the brown door, holding a plate of grilled salmon and asparagus. It was around five o'clock at night, so he had hoped he hadn't brought dinner too late.
The door opened, and a woman with a surpried expression looked at Finnick.
Celia was her name. She won the 56th Games, and was a force to be reckoned with. She had beach blonde hair, and a tanned face filled with premature wrinkles. She was still beautiful, but it was clear how big of a toll the games took on her. Celia was only thirty one, but appeared so much older.
"Finnick, hey. What's up?" She asked, smiling towards him.
He had never bothered to interact with many of the Victors, besides Mags. Finnick wasn't very sociable when he was home. He liked to spend that time with Annie, and enjoy silence and peace with her.
Finnick smiled at Celia, "I just headed over to bring you some dinner, and to hopefully ask you for a favor?" He held up the plate of food, wrapped in plastic. It smelled delicious, and Finnick was excited to get home and eat his own share of it.
Celia opened the door wider, and invited him in. "Gosh, that smells good. Did Annie make that?" She asked, leading him into the dining room.
The pair sat down across from eachother, and shared a few laughs before Finnick got to the point.
"Celia, I need to ask you a favor. Please, consider it for me." He looked at her, trying to be as serious as possible, and trying to stay calm. "I'm supposed to mentor this year, with Mags. I was hoping to get this year off. You see, it's Annie's last Reaping. Her name is hardly in the bowls, and I really wanted to be around during the games this year."
"I'm following," Celia stated, learning forward in her seat.
Finnick took him a big breath, "I'm don't want to go to the Capitol. You know what happens when I go— and I just don't think that I can do it. It's breaking me, and it's hurting Annie. She says she's okay, but I know that she's not. Celia, I'm planning to marry her. In secret, of course. But I want my soul to be binded to hers. I want to do that before I go back to the Capitol, but it can't be until she's no longer able to go to the Games."
Celia started at him, feeling pity for the young couple. She, too, was considered desirable, for many years after her victory. Then, Celia decided that she was done. She put on weight, she died strands of her hair grey. She did everything she could to make them not want her. It worked. Finnick was different, though. She knew the Capitol had gripped him harder than it had her. It wouldn't be as simple as eating more, or dying hair. The Capitol would change him back.
"I understand your logic. And, I'll mentor for you this year. But you have to be careful, Finnick. If anyone in the Capitol finds out you're married... You'll have to kiss her goodbye. The Games aren't the only threat Snow has up his sleeve." She warned, looking to him.
She understood the desire to marry the one you love. It was a bond he would never have with anyone else. While he may kiss others, none of them but Annie would be his wife. He was naive, though, to think Snow wouldn't kill Annie in a heartbeat if he ever found out.
The two of them talked for an hour more, before hugging eachother, and saying goodbye.
Finnick made his way home to Annie, and they sat down and ate their own dinner. They talked, and laughed, and simply smiled at the other. This was happiness, pure happiness.
This was what he wanted for the rest of his life, and he was willing to fight to get it that way.