I do not own The Hunger Games.
Finnick Odair is precious.
The Girl With The Green Eyes
Annie Cresta Creeps Part 2
After that, Finnick goes home.
He eats.
He sleeps.
He thinks about Annie.
He knows Mags will bring him to her if Annie will allow.
Knows he has to respect her enough to let her come to it on her own.
She doesn't.
So he waits.
It's all he can do.
He's summoned again to the Capitol, a shorter showing this time.
Just as flamboyant and garish as all the others.
He plays his part, does as he is commanded.
Spreads his lies again, for the protection of Annie.
It's not too hard.
People are so eager to believe the grungy, the bad, the ugly.
He doesn't even have to really try.
His patron is an older man this time, sweet and outwardly divine.
And inwardly lonely.
He is relatively easy to please and at the end of his contracted time, Finnick is released much as he was before.
And returns home.
He doesn't go to Annie's house this time.
He lets her be.
And he stays . . .
"Enjoy your trip, Finnick?"
"Don't I always, Mom?"
. . . by himself.
And, eventually, he goes back to where he started.
The ocean, the tides.
The foam rolling across his feet, up his ankles.
His trident is smooth in his hands, whistling and humming as he practices, spins it, twirls it.
Uses it to try to forget.
At least for a little while.
He's taken off his shirt, to let the sun warm his skin, trying to find peace and solace in the natural world so far away from the Capitol and the Games.
His chest is smooth, the Capitol insists he keep it that way.
His feet are bare too and the damp sand caresses them, massages them.
His linen pants are white and thin, allowing the salty sea breeze to cool him off as he moves through the motions so engrained in his muscle memory he doesn't even have to think of them.
He turns, trident whipping over one shoulder and to the side of his head-
Annie-
-and she is there.
Not close like Mags was.
But far.
Standing still.
Arms wrapped around her, hugging her thin frame tightly to herself.
Long hair blowing in the wind.
She's dressed all in white, long and loose.
It compliments her coloring, her hair.
He can almost see the green of her eyes across the distance.
And her feet are bare.
She is alone.
He catches the trident as it completes its rotation without thinking, stills it next to him, burrowing the tip of it in the sand.
He has known he cares about her since he ran to meet her transport after the Games.
Since he stayed by her side in the hospital.
Since he sat in the closet with her, since he sat next to her as Mags opened the window.
Since he watched her fight to eat, to drink.
To make it to the ocean again.
He has known and he has refused to face what he can no longer deny.
He loves her.
He loves her and he can't because he is unclean and she deserves better and because Snow will know and she will be in danger and that's all there is in this life.
And that's all there ever will be.
And so he stands there, Finnick Odair, stands in the sand near the ocean in the sun.
And watches the girl with the green eyes approach.
Slow. With measured step.
Across the sand toward him.
Annie.
He doesn't move, he doesn't feel he has the right.
He is soiled, he, is ruined, he is a pawn.
And he has hurt her.
Badly.
She may hit him when she gets within striking distance.
Slap him, punch him, kick him.
He'll take it, he's done it before.
She deserves her rage, her disgust with him.
He will not stop his trips to the Capitol, he can't, there would be harsh and deadly repercussions if he did.
He can't stop what he cannot control.
And he cannot stop protecting her.
Some of his patrons in the Capitol pay him to touch them.
Some pay to touch him.
It took a while.
Finnick Odair had to train himself not to flinch when being touched, even by his mother and his sister in their normal, perfectly healthy familial ways once the Capitol took hold.
But he persevered.
And is so able to remain still as Annie moves toward him.
Anything she can dish out, he can take.
He is strong enough.
But his surprise is complete and absolute when she stops in front of him, so very close.
Stops and gazes up at him with those beautiful green eyes, so full of emotion, brimming with tears.
Mouth just slightly open as if she might speak.
But instead, she makes one last move.
Unwrapping her arms from around herself.
And wrapping them instead . . .
Annie.
. . . around him.
Closing the distance between them, wraps her arms around him and lays her head against his upper chest, right near his collarbone.
Her hair tickles his chest, her skin is soft.
Hands on the muscles of his back warm.
He reminds still for a split second.
Annie.
And then, tears welling up in his eyes against his will, the lump in his throat too big to swallow, he drops his trident.
Doesn't even hear it thump to the sand at their feet.
And wraps his arms . . .
Annie.
. . . around her.
His lips are in her hair and he daren't kiss the crown of her head, he can't let her know how much he really does care.
But Annie is here and in his arms.
He thinks he feels her tears on his flesh.
But the sun is bright, the foam is warm.
And Finnick Odair lets Annie Cresta stay in his arms . . .
I love you.
. . . a little while longer.
Feel better? Me too.
We needed that, I think.
;)
