I watched his fingers glide over the rope, so fast and smooth it was mesmerising. I knew it was his coping mechanism, to stop his brain from breaking, although it was too late for his heart. But despite knowing that he was doing it out of insanity, there was something so effortless and beautiful about it.
I thought back to the stations before the games, how I couldn't even tie a simple knot. Then again in the games, how my fingers fumbled at the simplest of knots and how I would throw it in frustration. Usually ending with Peeta putting his large hand over mine to calm me down while Finnick picked up the rope and finished my knot so easily it would make me ever madder.
The sudden memory of Peeta's hand on mine hit me like a brick and my heart ached. I didn't want to think about him at all. The thoughts were too painful. More painful than a physical cut or stab wound. It had been weeks, months since I had brown up the arena in come conspiracy that I had not been privy to. A plan that did not involve me or Peeta, meaning the worse case had happened, and Peeta had been taken by the Capitol.
It wasn't until the last video that it struck me of how tortured Peeta was. He had always looked well fed and groomed on screens. I can't believe how stupid I had been to believe that. That of course they had taped those previously, or had used some kind of trickery to make it appear that way. All this time I had been feeling hopeful, glad eve that he was at least ok. That was until the other day. Where his skin was pale and green, his face was so gaunt it was like he had already died. His eyes though. His eyes looked broken. Like the spark had gone out. And that was the moment I felt a part of my soul die with that spark.
He had tried to warn us, that they were coming. Because of Peeta we had managed to get everyone underground in time and saved who-knows how many lives. I couldn't get rid of the image of his blood splattered on those tiles though before the screen went blank.
We had been underground for 2 days. Every now and then another bomb would go off and the room would shake. We were all ok though. My mother and Prim were asleep in bed. They had spent most of the day looking through a look of plants and herbs, my mother teaching Prim all she knew. Buttercup was curled up asleep at Prim's feet.
A few beds away I could just make out the lump that was Gale's sleeping body. Things had been tense between us. He had lied to me about Peeta's broadcast a week ago. He was helping the military plan missions and tactics that I didn't agree with. That included murder.
I wanted so badly to go over to him. To find some comfort in his embrace. But I knew it wouldn't last. He was right. I was selfish. I wanted him around, to make myself feel better, to be a comfort to me. And I only returned those affections when he was in pain. He couldn't comfort me though. He didn't understand. The first night while I lay in my bed, tears ran down my face for Peeta, for what I had seen. Gale sat with me, but he didn't understand. He had whispered into the dark, not necessarily for me to hear; "Hopefully he's dead. At least he wouldn't be in pain anymore. This could be over".
I knew he had meant it in a nice way, to suggest that Peeta wouldn't be in pain anymore and now saving him wouldn't be a distraction from the rebellion, but that's not what it had meant to me. I had screamed at him to leave, that how dare he say something like that to me, how dare he even think it after everything Peeta had been through. He'd gotten angry at my outburst and slumped over to his bed. We haven't spoken all day.
I tried to push all those thoughts out of my head as I watched Finnick's hand move silently in the dark. Knotting the rope, pulling it apart and starting again. His bed was only few down from mine, but it was in the corner of the room. While he had been discharged from hospital a few days ago, he still wasn't alright. He would wander the hallways aimlessly, sometimes in pants, sometimes just in a dressing gown. Sometimes he would be silent all day, if you tried to talk to him his eyes would just glaze over and look through you, while some days he would mutter to himself. He was broken. Every now and then though he would pick up, he would look at you and while his eyes were dull and lifeless, every now and then a spark would flash past them and it would be like the old Finnick was back. But then he'd be gone again.
As I looked up from his hands I could see his eyes boring into mine, holding my gaze while his hands continued to move. Even through the dark his sea-green eyes kept my attentions, the sadness in them reflecting my own heart.
I got off my bed and made my way over to him. If there was ever anyone who would understand, it was Finnick. As a tribute who had witnessed death, some at his own hands, only to be manipulated by the Capitol, thrown back into the games, and have the one person he loved most in this world taken from him and put into the cruel hands of the Capitol.
I passed Gale's bed on the way to Finnick's, and even though only silence followed me, I could feel Gale's eyes burning into my back, but I ignored him.
As I sat down on his bed his eyes had dropped back down to his hands and he continued weaving the rope. We sat like that for a few minutes, the silence comfortable between us as we both just needed to be around someone who understood.
"He'll be ok" suddenly Finnick whispered. I looked at him confused and his face tilted up towards mine.
"Peeta. He'll be ok. There's no way they would have killed him. After showing you what they've done to him they'll be expecting some kind of rescue or bargaining for him. Either way, he's too valuable to kill. He'll be alive" he said softly and I nodded, knowing he was right.
"There's been talk about a rescue mission. I made sure they were going in for Johanna and Annie too" I replied, keeping my voice quiet and soft like his.
His eyes flicked back to mine, shining in the darkness like the ocean as his se-green eyes filled with tears. While he didn't say anything he held my gaze despite his eyes tearing up, looking away just as they were about to spill over and I knew that it had been more than a thank you.
"Who do you think are more broken? Them, or us?" he asked with a small sniff. I couldn't help but let out a sharp laugh and he looked back at me with wide eyes before a small smile played on his lips. It seemed like such a silly question, to ask who was more broken, those who had been tortured or those who had been saved, but had to stand by while their loved ones were being tortured.
"Well they are in the Capitol. The nicest place around" I argued.
"And we have been stuck in a bunker, living off scraps, watching the war play out. You've even been out to the front line, seen the death. I doubt Peeta even know what happened to 12. Plus all the heartache of knowing what's happening to them without being able to do anything" he added and we both laughed. It was such a dark topic, but if we didn't laugh, we'd both cry.
"Here, it keeps my mind busy. Otherwise I'd just fall apart" Finnick whispered after a moment of silence, handing me his rope. I moved the rope through my hands, it felt good to have something solid in them, something real. I started twisting and winding it, trying to recall a simple knot that I had learned. I pulled it tight to show it had worked and held it up for Finnick to inspect. While it was twisted together in a messy fashion, unlike Finnick's perfect knots, it had done its purpose. I looked up at Finnick and he took the rope from me, giving a tug on the end and the knot fell apart. Looking at the disappointment on my face he gave a small chuckle and I saw a cheeky spark in his eye.
With a swift motion his fingers worked his magic and he had completed the knot I had been attempting to do. He handed it to me and no matter how hard I pulled, it wouldn't come undone.
"How do you do it?" I couldn't help but ask.
"It's a secret" he replied with a small smile on his lips.
"Show me" I whispered and his eyes looked sideways at me.
"You know what secrets cost Katniss" he chuckled and I gave him a light shove.
It had been so long since I had seen that spark in his eyes, that cheeky look and a smile on his lips.
I couldn't help but smile at him and as I did his smile grew bigger which only made me smile more and before we both knew it we were both sitting there chuckling in the silent bunker.
The little amount of light we had was bouncing of his bronze hair and reflecting in his eyes.
He handed me the rope and I began to start again. Just then there was a click and the last of the light disappeared and we sunk into blackness. At 10:30pm the lights dimmed down, but at midnight they went off completely, meaning we had reached midnight.
We sat there in the darkness for a second before I felt Finnick's warm hands cover mine. Slowly his fingers covered mine and began guiding my way around the rope. Slowly but surely I felt it twist and wind into a much better feeling knot than my first attempt. I pulled at the knot and it didn't budge, holding together like Finnick's one had. I smiled to myself, glad no one could see me smiling like an idiot about my knot. Finnick took the knot from me and I could hear him undoing the knot and he handed me back the rope. While I couldn't see him, I could feel the warmth of his body in the darkness and he smelled like a mix of soap and sweat and I felt my cheeks warm.
Just as his fingers glided over mine to start the knot again, there was a large bang and the room began to shake. It was another bomb, and although we knew it wouldn't reach us and we were all fine, I couldn't help but feel shaken.
I didn't realise how much I was actually shaking until I felt Finnick put his warm arm around me.
The bomb had bought back the memories of how Peeta had tried to warn us, about his gaunt face and his blood on the tiles. A small sob escaped me and I felt Finnick tighten his grip around me, pulling me into his chest where another sob escaped my lips.
We sat there in silence for what seemed like an hour. People were up and talking, but when the lights didn't come back on they knew it wasn't serious and had quietened down and gone back to sleep.
At some point Finnick had began stroking my hair and I felt my muscles begin to relax. I tried to push the thoughts out of my head and instead focused on Finnick's fingers in my hair. I had let my hair out of its braid when I was getting ready for bed earlier, and I was now grateful I had had the decency to run a brush through it.
While Finnick held me against his chest and his fingers ran through my hair, I could still feel the tension on his body. He was sitting straight, his muscles stiff and unbending. I wondered what specifically he was thinking about. Was it Annie? Was it this whole situation? I looked up at him, wondering if those green eyes had teared up again, but it was so dark I couldn't see anything.
I rested my head in the spot between his shoulder and neck and I felt his body loosen a little. I breathed with him, in and out in the darkness, just the sound of his heartbeat against my ear.
This was different than it was with either Peeta or Gale. With Peeta I had always felt guilty, like I wasn't returning the right amount of feelings, or that I was being fake. With Gale it felt shameful. Like I was somehow betraying Peeta while at the same time leading Gale on, like I was doing something wrong. But here in Finnick's arms I just felt safe. Comfortable. Warm.
It was like after everything we had been through, we were the same. We had experienced the same burn of the games, and now we sat in the same heartbreak of the aftermath. It didn't feel romantic and forever like it did with Peeta those few times, but it felt good. It felt nice to be in the company of someone who knew exactly what I was going through, that even though no words were spoken, we understood.
I tilted my head up at Finnick, wondering if he was thinking the same thing. I could feel his breath on my cheek and I realised he was looking down at me. Our noses brushed together and I could feel the warmth of his face on mine. We both sat there for a second, only breathing in and out, his nose slightly touching mine.
I don't know who moved, but someone leaned forward just enough that our lips brushed together. They were warm and the warmth of his touch flowed down my whole body. When no one moved I leaned slightly in again, our lips brushing together for a second and the jolt of warmth shot down my body again. Suddenly, not knowing who made the next move first, we had both leaned in and our lips pressed firmly together.
I tilted my head and he took it as a positive sign and deepened the kiss, electricity running through my body. I kissed him back, my hands automatically running up his arm and to his chest. His fingers made their way from my hair to the back of my neck as our lips parted and the kiss become more passionate.
I shifted my body to get closer to him. I was hungry for his warmth, for his touch. Just to make me feel something other than this sadness that had consumed me. I could tell by the way he pulled me closer and kissed me harder that he was feeling the same.
I pulled myself on top of his lap, wanting this feeling to engulf me. It was different than with Peeta and Gale. Peeta always kissed me sweetly, I could always feel his love behind his kisses. Gale kissed me roughly, like a man in a drought getting a sip of water and not knowing when his next drink will be. But Finnick kissed me passionately. But I knew it wasn't passion for me. It was passion to feel something, something other than despair. To push away all those thoughts and feeling even if just for a short time. To be with someone who completely understood, who felt the same and needed the same distraction in their life. And it was everything I needed.
Finnick's arm wrapped around my waist, pulling me closer to him as his other hand cupped my cheek, his fingers gripped on the back of my neck. He pulled me in deeper and I tilted my head more.
We pulled away to draw breath, his arm still holding me to him. I raised my hands, running them through his bronze hair. I felt his warm lips on my shoulder's bare skin and a shiver ran down my spine. His lips moved from my shoulder to my neck, planting kisses on my exposed skin, the warmth coursing through my veins.
His lips made their way up from my neck to my jaw and along my jawline before he softly kissed my lips once more. He pulled back just enough that his nose still brushed mine. I imagined his bright green eyes staring into mine in the dark.
"Stay with me. Stay with me tonight Katniss. Don't leave me alone" he whispered.
"I'll stay. I won't leave you" I whispered back more softly than I could have ever imagined.
I felt his lips press against mine as we fell gently down onto his bed.
Don't leave me alone either Finnick Odair, I thought to myself. Stay with me.