I hear a voice calling my name, ever so gently. I can not place the voice, or the name for a moment, until I realize that it is mine, and that I have been drawn back into the world of thought. A touch on my arm brings me back, and for a moment I see a face filled with worry and anxiety before me. Then that moment passes.

"Finnick."

I look up and see Annie grinning down at me. Smiling back at her, I lean in for a kiss, and then let my eyes fall back on the television screen. Katniss and Peeta, the two tributes from District Twelve, are still alive. The girl from district five, Thresh from eleven, and Cato and Clove from Two. The announcers have announced a feast that is to take place this morning. Likely, there will be no more action until then, so the cameras still rest on the District Twelve tributes, the "star crossed lovers" and follows their every move. Right now, Katniss is telling Peeta the story of how she got her sister a goat. Not all that interesting if you ask me, but the people from the Capitol are hooked. I roll my eyes involuntarily and take the hand Annie offers. I will only have an hour at most with her before President Snow shows me my room for the night. Annie knows now, of course, but she never speaks of it during the games for my sake. At home we only talk about it rarely, and only when necessary. After all, she is only 19, and already fading. I don't want to burden her mind with anything else.

She begins to speak as we walk hand in hand down the stairs from the television studio where we were watching the Games. We are both mentors, but as both the district four tributes are out of it, we are able to relax until it is all over and we head back to District Four. Of course, I wish we could just head back now, but President Snow would keep me here all year if I tried to resist. Or do something even worse.

Annie's long brown hair catches the wind the moment we step foot outside, and she smiles, staring at the beautiful sunset that covers the Capitol. I wonder if it is real, or just a projection. But it makes Annie happy, and that is all that I care about. Staring at her now, I remember a moment before all the cares were placed upon her. A moment when she was free and happy as she is now. I reach down and touch my lips to hers. But in that kiss lies another thousand memories for me to sort through, and my mind flickers back into thought.

(-)

I don't see her again that day, or the next, or the next. I begin to worry. Her school and home life must be keeping her busy. Or at least, that is what I tell myself. I spend the days as I normally do. Running the beach, spending time thinking in my cave. Practicing with the trident sent to me in my own Hunger Games, though it already flows like an extension of my arm. My father told me when I came back that I should just get rid of it.

But I never know when I may need it again. I don't want to get rusty.

Besides, anytime I can, I make sure to go against what my father says. Not anymore, of course, as he was killed in a so called boat failure on a fishing trip a few years ago. I know the truth though. I have never told.

When I came back from my games and was given the keys to a new home in the victor's village, I was only 14. My father, of course, had his belongings packed up and was ready to move in with me. His belt was on tight.

He was outraged when I told him no, but of course there was nothing he could do. He tried to tell the peacekeepers that I was too young to live alone, but in the end it was my choice. My decision.

For once.

I lived alone until I was sixteen, which gave me almost two years of freedom. Not freedom of the mind, of course. One cannot be a Hunger Games victor and ever be truly free. But more free than I am now.

After that, President Snow became my new father. He was worse than the other. He told me what I would do when I came to the Capitol, where I would go. Who I would stay with.

Those are always the worst weeks of my life. And I cannot refuse.

No one can.

I had been fighting the hard battle on my own, until now. After a few days Annie came to my home in the victors village, and we began seeing each other every day. As friends. I had no feelings for her in any other way, and some things about her personality really bothered me. She was, for instance, a very popular girl and cared very much about what others thought of her. I had never worried about this. But, nonetheless, it was good to finally have a friend.

I never confided in her. She was only fifteen at the time, which seemed to me to be very young. Her sixteenth birthday was fast approaching, though. I thought that maybe I would tell her more then. She had already guessed enough, anyway. We were out walking one day, about a week and a half after we first met, when she asked it. The question I had dreaded.

"Finnick, why are you so different from everyone else? What happened in the Capitol?"

I turned from her, and let my gaze fall out over the ocean. The sand beneath my feet seemed to turn immediately to hot coals, and every shell that I stepped on like a burst of fire.

"Nothing, really," I tell her,"but you can't expect me to have fought in the Hunger Games and come out the same person I once was."

She is staring at me now, and I meet her gaze.

"Who was that, Finnick? Who were you, once?"

I let out my breath slowly, for fear that I will start gasping for breath. I feel for a moment like I am drowning, before I again take control of my emotions.

"Just a boy, I suppose. Not a normal boy, really. I never was. My father was not exactly the nicest person around. But it made me strong. I wouldn't have won without him."

She nods her head, like she knew this.

"We all knew that Finnick, I was only six when it started, but there were rumors going around. I didn't understand it all, but people said you had a rough life. When I got older, I began to watch you. I guess that is when I began to notice you. You would come to school slouched, sometimes bruised, but almost always as though you were in pain. But there was a difference in you. You genuinely seemed to care for people, help people, love you. That is how I knew that you could not be what people said you were when you came back."

I look at this girl for a moment, so young but so wise, and consider telling her the truth. I would, if not for the threat that I knew to lay behind the words. I couldn't bear it if I was the cause of her death.

"Well, you were a smart girl," is all I say. It lets her know she was right, without endangering her. The perfect balance, I suppose.

She gives me a small, but gentle smile. Then we walk in silence for a moment. I don't know why, I guess it seemed appropriate, but I take her hand. Out of the corner of my eye, I see her face light up, ever so slightly, and she smiles. It is one of those moments that I treasure. A moment of unspoiled happiness.

There are few of these nowadays.

Then I see it, sitting on the sand, untouched by the ocean or those around it. An oyster. Oysters are not uncommon in this area, but one sitting alone on the beach can only mean one thing. I reach down and pick it up, and sure enough, inside is a small white pearl. It is not large, showing that it has not fully formed. Later on, when Annie and I became an official couple, I realized how appropriate that was. An unformed pearl for an unformed couple.

I hand the pearl to her, and it is just what is needed to break the silence, and any awkwardness that is still between us. Her face shines brightly, lighting up in a huge smile, and she clutches the pearl to her chest.

"I have always wanted to find a pearl," she says.

A strange wish for someone who lives by the sea.

And then the memory passes. I break my lips from Annie's and hold her to me, tightly. Staring at her now, she reminds me of how she once was. And I wish that I could freeze this moment, right here, right now, and live in it forever.