Chapter Three

Last Chapter Recap: Katniss meets Finnick at the post-Games celebration party, and President Snow drops some ominous hints about Katniss's future role in society.

The conversation with President Snow causes an icy pit to form deep in Katniss's stomach. The memory of Snow's vague, sexual hints and overall smug attitude, coupled with the still lingering feeling of his hand gripping her hip, makes her feel like gagging. She knows, deep down, what the president was implying, and the very thought is making her head spin.

She can't even stand to stay in the room when her mother has to strip sick patients, too embarrassed by their exposure. If she can't even manage that, how is she supposed to look at someone when there is intent behind the nudity?

She tries to picture it, some heavily tattooed capital citizen with strangely colored eyes sitting beside her, smiling and touching her, expecting her to respond favorably. Maybe it will be someone currently in this ballroom, one of those dancers dressed to look like fire, or one of those smarmy men that looked at her with greedy eyes and confident smiles.

She's never even kissed anyone before, never wanted anything like a romantic relationship. She doesn't want to get married and have kids, and she most definitely doesn't want to have sex with some disgusting old bastard! She just wants to live alone, hunting to keep food on the table for Prim. "The Hunger Games have a bad habit of ruining life goals," she thinks feverishly.

Katniss can tell her thoughts are rapidly spiraling, her mind fogging as the spinning gets worse, but she can't breathe. She can't stop the sickening images, and she can't breathe.

A woman in a sparkling orange dress careens past her, giggling madly, and Katniss stumbles back, staring with wide-eyed horror as the dancer's dress catches fire. The flames spread rapidly, jumping from dancer to dancer, gaining heat and life, and the stupid Capitolites just keep laughing like they aren't dying.

She can't breathe. She can feel the burning in her lungs, but she can't breathe. She needs to move.

The fire isn't real. It isn't. It can't be. Twirling, dancing flames, creeping closer and closer. She needs to move. And laughter. Cruel, mocking laughter as they killed that little boy with the crooked teeth. And the fire. The fire's closing in around her. It's laughing, calling her name. She needs to move.

"Katniss." It knows she's trapped.

"Katniss." And it's going to consume her!

"Katniss!" Closing in, smoke rising above the flames and clogging her lungs. She can't breathe!

"Katniss!" Finnick is in the sea of fire with her. Smiling Finnick who was teaching her to dance. They can dance with the flames now, though she'd rather dance in the woods, by her father's lake. Smiling Finnick from the district of water. Surely he can put out the fire. Men of water do not burn.

"There we go, that's right; just keep your eyes on me, and breathe with me, in and out. That's good, in and out." His eyes are so green. Green things don't burn.

"Finnick? You're not burning?" she questions. Her voice sounds weak, and very far away. It's as though she's listening to a conversation on the other side of the room, the words somehow rising above the fast, staccato drumbeat of her heart that all of the flames are dancing to.

"No," he murmurs, shaking his head slowly, "Nobody's burning. There's no fire Katniss." He's not burning, and the fire isn't real. The world continues to spin slightly as the dancing couples in their red and yellow outfits begin to come back into focus. She can hear harsh, uneven breaths, and it takes her a moment to realize they are hers.

Katniss has never had a panic attack before, but she imagines that that must be what one feels like.

"I…Can we go somewhere else?" Katniss asks, seeing some of the partygoers' attention turing in her direction. She wants their eyes off of her. "I know I'm supposed to stay, but…but I don't." She stutters to a stop, barely able to hold back the sob that is constricting her throat.

Finnick's expression is set in a concerned frown, and his shoulders are stiff with anxiety. He looks nothing like the cheerful boy she was laughing with before Snow interrupted.

"Ya, let's get out of here," he murmurs, grabbing her hand and ducking through a nearby door that Katniss could have sworn was not there before. He leads her through a maze of narrow hallways, eventually entering a teeming yet eerily quiet kitchen.

High tech digital screens hang from the ceiling displaying a constant stream of orders, and dozens of men and women in white uniforms work diligently preparing food and cleaning used dishes. The regular banging and clanging of stainless steel one would expect in such a busy kitchen is present, but no one is speaking.

A plump brunette woman bursts into the room behind them, almost losing her grip on the empty trays she is carrying when she knocks into Finnick. Placing a steadying hand on a precariously positioned silver platter, Katniss asks, "Are you ok?"

The servant's deep brown eyes widen in surprise and fear before she gives a jerky nod of her head and shuffles away without a word. Noticing Katniss's confusion, Finnick quietly explains, "We're in the servant's quarters Katniss. These are all avoxes; they can't speak."

That would explain the hush. Having no tongues tends to make speech difficult, and they are the only two unmutilated people in this massive room.

"Come on," Finnick says, tugging on her hand, "There's a door that leads to a back alley on the other side of the room."

They move quickly across the kitchen, and soon after they slip out of the dark alley and into the merry stream of less influential Capitol citizens that are celebrating the Games in clubs and bars rather than in mansions. Even out here the hedonism is clearly on display. Stings of lights are strung over the streets; hot air balloons in every color of the rainbow float above the buildings, carrying drunken partiers who seem to feel compelled to hang over the edge of the basket and wave their sparklers around wildly; and fireknife performers dance on the sidewalks, spinning their lit sticks in intricate patterns. Katniss would have found it all exotically beautiful if the celebration had been in honor of anything less tragic.

After nearly half an hour of seemingly aimless wondering, Finnick steers her through an unobtrusive gate, and they find themselves in an expansive garden right smack dab in the center of the Capitol. The normal sounds of a forest are absent, but the noise of the city is muted, and the calm and greenery are like balms to Katniss's soul, allowing her to relax, at least partially, for the first time since her sister's name was pulled out of that bowl.

"What did Snow say to you?" Finick asks suddenly, voice tight with nervousness.

Katniss stares at him for a long, silent moment before deciding that she needs answers, and Finnick is likely one of her best bets as far as a clear confirmation or denial is concerned. Despite this determination, she finds the words chokingly difficult to verbalize. "He…he made insinuations. I'm not sure, but I, well, I think," she stops, suddenly unable to continue.

"About sex, right?" Finnick asks bluntly.

"Yes," she nearly whispers in confirmation. "And—"

"And about selling you," he finishes for her, a grim frown marring his face. "It doesn't really surprise me he broached the topic with you so soon. Apparently, that's how it always works with the pretty victors."

There is a bitter, angry note to Finnick's words. Katniss gives him a questioning look, wanting to know if he is including himself in that assessment but not wanting to pry.

"Ya, me too. Most victors get sold at least once; beauty's in the eye of the beholder and all that." They continue walking in silence as Katniss attempts to digest that fact. Disgusting as all of this is, she can at least understand someone wanting someone as attractive as Finnick, but most victors are not beautiful like him. Case in point, the boy that won last year had a face with a scary likeness to a duck and horrible acne, and the girl who won three years before Finnick may as well have been a boy. Of course, then the games had a string of back-to-back beautiful victors in Gloss, Cashmere, and Finnick.

"I start in a week," Finnick says hoarsely, breaking the contemplative silence.

"I'm sorry," she whispers, feeling a rush of sympathy. "We can't refuse, can we?" She asks, already knowing the answer, but needing to hear it anyways.

Finnick shakes his head. "Not if you have anything left to lose, no."

A long moment passes before she speaks up again. "I've never even kissed anyone before." At his surprised look, she mumbles, "Too busy," with a shrug.

"You've still got time. They can't touch you until you're sixteen—you can lose it to someone from your home."

"I…Is that what you did?"

He grimaces and shakes his head no. "Selfishly, I sorta wish I had."

"Why didn't you?"

"It just never seemed right. I was always being called back to the Capitol for parties, and whenever I was home," he pauses and tilts his head back to stare at the sky before changing tracks, "Normal people want to have relationships. Doesn't really seem like an option for a famous prostitute, does it? And I could never bring myself to ask for it to be a one time thing, not when all those girls seemed to actually like me. And the idea of telling someone what was really going on? I really couldn't make myself do that," he finishes, looking ashamed and embarrassed.

"So you've never?" She asks hesitantly.

"Nope," he answers frustratedly, still staring up at the dark sky. "I'll be a virgin whore." The laugh that follows this statement is not a happy sound.

Katniss watches him run a shaking hand through his hair as she thinks over everything he has told her in this garden. It is true that she most likely still has a year before Snow will sell her body to the highest bidder. She could go back to Twelve and ask Gale to take her virginity. He would do that for her, and she could lose it to someone she cares about, but that wouldn't really be fair to anyone. Gale is her best friend. She can't imagine changing their relationship so drastically. If they had sex, would Gale want more? Would he want something she would never be able to give? He certainly wouldn't be ok with her having sex with other people—not if they started something. It seemed cruel to use her best friend like that.

Then there is Finnick, someone who can understand her circumstances. He couldn't bring himself to use any of the girls from his district; just as she is sure she could never impose on Gale that way. But she wouldn't be using Finnick. They would have a common goal, a common motivation. They would be helping each other.

Reaching her decision, Katniss speaks up. "The only person I could ask in Twelve is my best friend, Gale. I don't think I can do that to him."

Finnick turns to look at her, his brows furrowing as he searches her face. Her look of fierce determination, the same look he remembers seeing cross her face when she was readying herself to face off against her final opponent in the Hunger Games, does not match her words. "So you're not gonna ask him?"

"No," she shakes her head. "I'm asking you."

"You're asking me?" He questions, before repeating the words more slowly as realization dawns. "You're asking me." It's not what he had been after, bringing her out here. Finnick had been fully resigned to having sex for the first time with some creepy older woman who probably couldn't even remember the original color of her own skin. He looks over the girl standing beside him and decides instantly to say yes. Far better to lose his virginity to someone he can see himself becoming good friends with in the future, to someone who won't judge him for needing this, to a fellow victor, to a pretty girl his own age. It's not what he'd been after, but he would be a fool to refuse Katniss's offer.

"Ya. I'd like that," he says, relief lighting up his face as he warms to the idea. "Should, um, should we go back to the Training Center, or," he trails off, looking around at the garden.

"I don't think you're supposed to do it outside, are you?" Katniss asks, laughing nervously. "So ya, back to the Training Center I guess."

Remembering Katniss's confession about never having kissed anyone before, Finnick takes a step closer to her. They're doing this so that they can enjoy sex, guilt free, at least once in their lives, and while he's nervous about the idea, he's also starting to get excited. This is something he had resigned himself to never having. Katniss, on the other hand, can't even seem to look in his direction anymore. This isn't going to be any fun if she can't relax at least a little bit, and as the more experienced partner, Finnick decides it's his job to help her.

Reaching out, he brushes a loose piece of coal black hair back behind her ear, before trailing his fingers down her neck and tugging gently. When she turns her face to look up at him, he grins and takes another step closer, bringing their bodies flush together, faces only inches apart. "Can I kiss you Girl-on-Fire?" he asks, his voice coming out deeper than he had intended.

Katniss stares up at him with wide, grey eyes, a blush rising in her cheeks, and nods minutely. She only just has time to notice as his normally sea green eyes darken to jade before his lips are pressed against hers, soft and warm and gone far too quickly.

Finnick pulls back, searching her face for any sign that he should stop. Seeing none, he grins and pulls her back towards him for a deeper kiss, scratching lightly at the base of her scalp and internally congratulating himself when the action causes her breath to hitch, her lips parting enough for his tongue to slip inside.

He can't help the soft groan that escapes him when she presses closer, running her hands up his chest and into his hair, mimicking his actions. Finnick knows he should quit now. He was just trying to give her a proper kiss before they do anything else, and now he has, but he really doesn't want to stop yet. For someone who has never done this before, Katniss sure does catch on quick.

Eventually though, the need for air forces them to part, and they take a moment to just watch each other, arms still wrapped around one another. Katniss is the first one to take a step back, and Finnick lets her go without a fight, tossing out a casual, "There! Now you've had your first kiss."

Instantly, her olive skin turns bright red, and she glares at him. "And if you're going to give me a second one, it'll be back at the Training Center," she huffs, turning on her heel and stalking towards the entrance to the garden.

Finnick's grin only widens in response. "At least tell me you liked it Kitty-Cat," he calls, jogging to catch up with her.

"It was alright."

"You wound me!" he exclaims with a hand pressed dramatically to his heart. "It was much better than alright! Tell the truth Girl-on-Fire, it was the best kiss you've ever had!"

"It's the only kiss I've ever had," she deadpans.

"So by default, the best," he responds smugly, as though this is some great accomplishment. "Really though, if you had to pick an adjective to describe it, what would it be? Passionate? Heart-stopping? Mind-blowing?"

"Warm," she responds, underplaying how good it had actually felt to be pressed so closely to the other teen.

He shoots her a sly look. "So fiery then. Fiery's good; fiery's hot," he laughs, and she can't help her reciprocating smile.

"You might be overshooting—"

"Really Katniss? Women swoon at the sight of me. Of course I'm not exaggerating."

She laughs and shakes her head, no good come-backs springing to mind. When Finnick pulls to a stop beside her she realizes that they have arrived back at the Training Center, and some of her humor fades in favor of nerves. "So, your floor or mine?" she asks as they enter the building and make their way towards the glass elevators.

"You haven't switched out of the tribute room yet, have you?" he asks, waiting until she responds with a negative to continue, "Then I guess mine. The mentors' suites are nicer."

"Alright," she nods, pressing the button and sending them up.

The only thing the fourth floor has in common with the twelfth floor is its flair for the dramatic. The chambers on Katniss's floor are dark, with black couches and deep red accents; they look like a sophisticated lair for a vampire. These accommodations, on the other hand, are light and airy. Everything is decorated in creams and soothing blues. A beautiful crystal chandelier dominates the ceiling, and shining mirrored tables are littered about the room. It is an apartment that took its inspiration from water rather than coal.

"This way," Finnick nods his head and leads her down a long hallway and into his bedroom. The first thing Katniss notices when she enters are the blue-tinted glass walls which display a stunning view of the garden that they have just walked from. Then a raised platform holding a massive king sized bed with a white leather headboard and incredibly soft looking silver-blue blankets snags her attention.

Finnick brushes past her and plops ungracefully on the mattress to take his shoes off. Tossing them aside he looks back up at her and smiles. "Come here," he pats the blanket. Squaring her shoulders, Katniss moves to sit beside him and takes off her own shoes, sighing with relief when her feet are freed from the torturous heels.

"Not comfortable?" Finnick nods towards her shoes, smirking.

"Like walking on clouds," she snarks back, and his smirk widens into a full grin.

"I'll be sure to give your compliments to your prep-team."

She rolls her eyes and scoots up to rest against the pillows at the head of the bed. "Tell them I like heels and you die Odair."

"It's ok to show your softer side sometimes Kitty-Cat. They'll be thrilled; my prep-team loves compliments! Lets them know they're appreciated," he informs her mock-sagely and crawls up to lay on his side next to her, propping himself up with one arm.

"Lets them feel appreciated, but ends with me trying to walk around in death-traps."

"True," he mutters distractedly, gaze fixed on Katniss's lips. He glances up, catching and holding her eyes, and her breathe catches in her throat. His eyes are so green, like leaves in the Spring, bright and beautiful. Answering his unspoken question, she leans up and connects their lips in a chaste kiss which he is quick to deepen, nipping at her lower lip to allow him entry.

"Wait," she says, pushing at his shoulders.

"What?"

"I can't get pregnant. So, how…"

"They gave me some shot. You won't," he answers seriously.

"Ok. Ok that's good," Katniss whispers, pulling him towards her again.

She relaxes back into the cushions, enjoying the soft slide of his tongue against hers and the firm grip of his hand on her hip. Remembering their earlier kiss in the garden, she runs her fingers through his bronze hair and scratches gently at his scalp, smugly pleased when he groans softly in response.

Noticing Katniss's self-satisfied expression, Finnick ducks his head to run kisses down her neck, sucking gently on her pulse point and grinning when she arches back with a soft cry. She looks beautiful like this, he thinks, laid out beneath him with her head tossed back in pleasure; he can't help the instinctive jerk of his hips that presses his rapidly growing arousal against her center, and sharp pleasure shoots up both of their spines.

Briefly, they pull apart, panting lightly, before Katniss wraps her legs around Finnick's waste and things rapidly escalate. With fumbling hands they somehow manage to rid each other of clothing, and then Finnick is trailing fingertips between her breasts, along her naked stomach and down between her thighs, rubbing gently before slipping a slightly calloused finger inside.

"Fuck," he growls. She's wet, and warm, and tight, and he aches to be inside her for real. He gives her a moment to get used to one finger before adding a second, and soon after, a third.

"Finnick!" She keens, before gasping, "I'm ready as I'll ever be."

"Oh thank God!" he breathes, voice rough with desire, and quickly lines them up, pressing in as slowly as he can manage.

Katniss's entire body goes taught beneath him at the unexpected stretch, stinging pain replacing her earlier enjoyment. The bruising grip on his shoulders causes Finnick to look up and still.

"You ok?"

"I heard it hurts the first time, but…" she falls silent, biting her lip and squeezing her eyes shut.

"Think it would feel better if you were on top?" He manages to get out, panting with the effort to remain motionless. He knows this is hurting her, but God, he has never wanted to move so much in his life.

"No!" She shakes her head, "Just give me a minute," she bites out through gritted teeth. Soon enough Katniss manages to relax, and when Finnick shifts slightly, brushing something incredible inside of her, she moans.

"Move!" she orders, wanting to feel him press against that spot again, harder.

Finnick obeys eagerly, whining with relief as he is finally allowed to thrust. They rock against each other, finding a rhythm that has both of them rapidly approaching climax. It doesn't take long before he feels that coil tightening low in his groin, and his hips begin to stutter unevenly as he chases his release. Knowing he won't last much longer, Finnick reaches between them and rubs, sending Katniss over the edge. Feeling her muscles tighten around him in a vice like grip, Finnick is quick to follow.

He slips out of her and rolls onto his back, chuckling weakly at her low whine, and they both stare blankly at the ceiling in blissed-out silence.

Eventually, Finnick breaks the quiet. "I can't remember the last time I felt this good. Maybe never."

"I feel all tingly," she replies dazedly.

He huffs out a breathless laugh. "Ya," he sighs, grinning.

"Finnick?"

"Hmm?"

"Thank you."

He is quiet for a long moment before replying, "Ya, me too Kat. Me too." Then he reaches down and drags the blankets up over the two of them, whispering a soft "stay."

And she does, curled up and happy for the first time in this city, she spends the night with a boy she only just met.

Note: Sorry for the long wait! I'm super busy, so updates will probably continue to be slow, but I do have everything outlined through chapter 20 so... Anyways, hope y'all enjoyed this chapter!