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First I'd just like to give a thanks to RockwellAnonymous (I don't know your regular account name, hahaha, sorry!), CrashAgainstMySkin and HdraSense for reviews that really helped me to continue! It meant a lot! And to the select few who review every chapter, or most chapters, I can't say how much it means! Really, every time I see a review from you guys it really touches me that you've stuck with the story so long:) And finally to ALL my readers, you guys are my inspiration! Thank-you!

I don't mind where you come from,
As long as you come to me.
But I don't like illusions, I can't see
them clearly.
I don't care, no I wouldn't dare
To fix the twist in you.
You've shown me eventually what you'll do.
I don't mind,
I don't care,
As long as you're here.

All the Same; Sick Puppies.

ANNIE'S POV

His eyes.

There was something off about his eyes.

Was that what made him so terrifying?

No, it was definitely his skin. There was something rubbery and inhuman about it...

Was it his hands?

"That's not it either!" I whispered to myself, flinging a small book across the room in frustration.

There was something wrong with President Snow, and I couldn't figure out what it was. I had seen him dozens of times on the broadcasting screens of D4, his thin body infinitely encased in white cloth, but seeing him in person had been an entirely different experience. I still had goosebumps.

A ran a hand through my hair and shuddered as my mind involuntarily dragged the image of Snow's eyes locking with mine in the dancing room. Every time I pictured him I had to squeeze my eyes shut and think of the ocean to make him go away, and even then he occasionally lingered for a few lasting seconds.

Sighing, I trotted to the closet and picked out a large white sweater and allowed the luxuriously heavy fabric attempt to reverse my shivering. I let out a laugh when I looked in the mirror, realizing how big the sweater actually was - it fell to my mid thigh and hung off my shoulder, but if Leif put it in there I'm sure this was how it was supposed to be.

I kept my soft cotton shorts on instead of uncomfortably tight jeans or leggings, and pulling open my sock drawer I was surprised at the lack of high socks. I settled for a pair of white legwarmers instead.

I wrestled my mass of hair into a ponytail, smiling when I felt my hair swing back and forth as I walked. I loved that feeling.

When I stared at the large selection of shoes in front of me I smiled wickedly before turning around, deciding going barefoot would be the highlight of my night - if only to see Stark's reaction at the dinner table.

I ignored the mirror as I skipped happily to the door. It's not like I have to impress anyone, I scoffed.

Pulling open the heavy door, I had managed to eliminate almost all thoughts of Snow, but there was still a strange current running through my blood.

I was so concentrated on not thinking of Snow, eyes downcast at the carpet, that I ran straight into something resembling a wall.

But walls didn't have two legs, a steel-like abdomen or intelligent blue eyes.

I rubbed my head dramatically. "And I suppose you were just waiting out here to make sure that happened?"

Amphitrite laughed his brilliant, usually unheard laugh and helped me steady myself.

"Ready for dinner?" He asked with a chuckle, turning us down the hallway.

"I would be sprinting down this hall if I wasn't so sore," I laughed, looping my arm through his.

"I think Mariou worked us harder than Faith and Fathom ever have." He responded, chuckling lightly.

"Oh, absolutely." I agreed, swishing my hair behind me as I nodded.

Amphitrite was silent for a moment. "We need to tell Mags and Finnick about our new alliance."

A shiver ran down my back as I thought about Vonlea and her dangerous eyes. The despairing grey seemed to pierce right through you, choking your soul slowly.

"Are we really going to go through with it, 'Trite?" I asked quietly, already afraid of the answer.

"We have no other options, Annie." He sighed tiredly, and for the first time I saw the purple bags under his eyes. These past few days hadn't been good to him. "If we refuse them, they'll come after us for sure. They're vindictive enough to crave our blood if we spurn them, especially Vonlea."

I tightened my grip on his large arm, my heart beating ferociously as we rounded the last corner to the dining room.

"Hell hath no fury like a woman scorned." I sighed, pulling open the glass door.

Amphitrite looked at me curiously.

"It's from a book," I laughed, receding from Amphitrite's hold as we settled into our respective seats.

"Is there any book out there you haven't read?"

I swiveled my head to find Finnick mocking me from the other doorway, his wonderful green eyes surveying me with a sparkle.

I felt a blush rise to my cheeks as it always did when I saw Finnick. "You should try putting your eyes on one, Finnick. They're quite lovely."

"Oh, but they so prefer to rest on you, my dear." He purred, giving me a quick, soft smile paired with a wink.

I bit my lip and looked at my plate, feeling the heat of both Mags's and Leif's eyes on me. Amphitrite was busy glaring at Finnick, obviously disapproving of his flirtation.

When I returned my gaze upward, I found Mags watching me curiously. I smiled, unsure of what to say, and she simply smiled back warmly before continuing a conversation with Finnick.

While Amphitrite and I were debating the merits of tuna and salmon, we were suddenly interrupted by a clutter on the other side of the wall and the slam of a door, followed by Stark's high-pitched whine.

"I'm sure it's just a mistake! It will be excellent, Gasteau, your creations are divine! No! No! Don't leave,"

We all looked around at each other in confusion, unable to hear the rest of her hushed tones and a man's undecipherable shouts. After several more seconds she burst into the room, a slight pink blush on her blue cheeks, creating an odd purple shade.

She was in quite a disarray by Stark standards, her hair wild and outfit rumpled.

"The cook apologizes for the delay in our dinner," Amphitrite and I exchanged glances as she straightened out her skirt. "But apparently the peaches he was using in today's entree are missing. All of them."

A hand flew to my mouth, attempting to keep in the noises of surprise that struggled to escape. The peaches! My heart beat rapidly.

I snuck a glance at Finnick, who was staring at me, looking as if he was about to burst. We eyed each other, both letting out a strangled cough, attempting to surpress our laughter.

"It's quite a shame really, he was planning on a lovely peach-and-lamb dish. I'll have to talk to someone about the lack of organization around here, it's almost appalling."

I put my forehead in my hands and hid myself behind it, tears running down my face as I hysterically laughed in silence. I saw Finnick's elbow hit the table from the corner of my eye, and I could only assume he was doing the same thing.

"Is there a problem, Finnick?" Stark asked, her haughty voice clipped.

I let the laughter slide down my throat, attempting to control myself so I could watch the interaction between Finnick and the blue-skinned escort play out.

"Oh, no problem at all." He replied, his beguiling face layered with charm. "Unless, of course, you don't come sit and eat with us soon."

My laughter stopped as I bit my tongue.

Stark breathed heavily, smiling so intensely I could feel my own cheeks hurt. "Of course I'm coming, Finnick, darling."

"Good," He responded, taking a sip of water. "I hate to start eating before everyone's at the table, and I'm starved."

After we'd finished the soup-and-salad courses the strategy talk officially began.

"What's the news of the day? How did the choreography go?" Mags asked, dabbing her mouth lightly with her napkin.

"Pretty well," I responded. "I mean, I definitely need some practice, but I think we'll be able to do it well enough before the pageant rolls around."

"And the choreographer just loved her." Finnick interjected. "More or less gushed over her every movement."

"Finnick!" I laughed, turning my gaze to the blond. His jaw was dusted with stubble, making him look older than I knew he was. Despite the facial hair, there was a youthful glint in his eyes that made my heart twist.

Maybe -

"We made an alliance."

All eyes turned to Amphitrite, and my heart sank.

Finnick's eyes immediately returned to me. "Annie, is this true?" His voice already held concern. "With who?"

I couldn't look at him, let alone tell him it was with the Careers. I just couldn't. He'd be so upset, then he wouldn't want to talk to me... I stared at Amphitrite with wide eyes, but he ignored my silent plea to keep quiet, only staring ahead with a locked jaw.

"With the Careers."

"What?"

Mags fork clanged against the table as it fell from her hand, but it wasn't her voice that admonished us so loudly. It was Finnick, whose shapely mouth had fallen slightly open, whose bright eyes were burning right through mine with pain and confusion.

I opened my mouth several times, gaping like a fish, in an attempt to tell him what had transpired.

"It just happened so fast," I managed to whisper, staring at him meekly from across the table. "I'm sorry."

"Wha -" Finnick rubbed his face, for the first time lost as to what to say. "Why would you do that? What the hell would make you think that was a good idea?"

Amphitrite glared at him. "You played and won your Games, Finnick. But you don't know ours. You don't know the Careers - the girl from 1, Vonlea? She would've snapped Annie's neck the minute the horn blew if we'd declined their offer."

"Then you snap hers first," He retorted, eyes blazing as the two clashed. It occured to me only then the rivalry they might be feeling - both strong, athletic males with only an age difference of a year or so. I can't say I condoned it, really I found it rather childish - I mean, finding the alpha dog among the two wasn't of high importance during these weeks - but I understood why there was tension between the two.

Or so I thought I did.

"And I will!" Amphitrite raised his voice. "Do you think I would let anything happen to Annie?"

"I don't know, Amphitrite, you're the Career." Finnick's voice was a low growl that we all knew implied more than he was letting on. Amphitrite retaliated to the insult by standing up with a bang, dropping his silverware.

"You got something you want to say, pretty boy?"

I stood with him, resting my hand on Amphitrite's coiled fist. "Enough, boys." I shot a glance in Finnick's direction. "What's done is done. Now please, calm down so we can talk about what to do next."

"Annie's right, this is helping no one." Mags interjected, eyeing the boys cautiously. "Finnick, settle yourself."

Mags and I exchanged a knowing glance as we calmed down the men on our respective sides.

"Now, Amphitrite, you said they approached you?" She continued, her soft voice investigating the subject without enraging the boys. He nodded stiffly, motioning for the Avox to his left to bring him more water.

"Unfortunately so." I added, realizing Amphitrite had turned back into virtual stone. "They seemed unsure about me, but after I... uh..." I cut myself, suddenly unwilling to share my abilities with a whip with Finnick and Mags.

"After you what?" Finnick asked, his face devoid of all previous anger, instead layered with intrigue and slight apprehension.

I closed my eyes briefly, sucking in a breath. "They saw me with a whip. Turns out all those years of fishing taught my wrist a thing or two," I attempted to smile, but I could feel the edges of my lips wobbling in protest. It wasn't real.

Mags and Finnick sat silently, taking in the new information. Mags chewed thoughtfully on her lamb while Finnick pushed his leftovers around on his plate, looking frustrated. I stole a glance back at Amphitrite, who was staring off into the distance, the only reminance of his anger showing on his slightly flushed cheeks. My eyes fluttered back to Finnick, whose profile I lingered on. He really was beautiful. His exceptionally chiselled jaw was locked tight, his slightly protruding cheek bones pink from exertion. Even while his eyes remained focused on his plate and not on me, the brilliance of the green continued to strike me.

But his beauty was marred by anger. Anger at Amphitrite. Anger over me, because they knew I couldn't hold my own against the Careers.

"Please don't be mad at 'Trite," I gazed at him softly. He looked up at me, and when I noticed his green eyes watered slightly, my heart beat ferociously. He was hurt. Upset. And that made me want to break down and cry. I didn't want Finnick to be sad. He was too... too wonderful to be sad.

"He was only protecting me," I croaked.

The whole table remained silent as he gazed back at me tiredly. "We've got the same goal, Annie."

Without another word he dropped his napkin on his plate and walked out, leaving the room in an eerie reverie.

No one knew what to say. No one knew what to do.

We all ached. We were all tired, sore, and losing to the darkness. But The Hunger Games were coming, and there was no time for weakness.

My eyelids slowly slid shut, and I desperately tried to grasp at the memory of the sea. The sea never hurt me. The sea loved me.

The sea was beautiful.

I loved the sea.

And I missed it so much. Smiling towards the collective group, I nodded gratefully at the Avoxes before making my departure from the silent dining room.

I let my bare feet drag across the carpet, realizing I hadn't even bothered to tease Stark with my naked toes. I felt the rough material beneath my heels gratefully, wondering how many more terrains I would feel before I descended into the darkness.

I wonder what it's like, dying. You hear tales, but one can never rely on the gossiping spinsters for proper facts. Perhaps it's wonderful and bright and maybe there's even a sea. I hoped there would be a sea when I died.

No. I stopped myself. Finnick made me promise not to think of such morbid thoughts anymore.

Oh, Finnick. Why do you have to -

"Y'know, when you stare at the ground, you miss all the pretty faces topside."

LISTEN TO: I'M WITH YOU BY JACK WALL & CINDY SHAPIRO

I looked up to see Finnick leaning against my door, one of his dazzling real smiles on his lips.

I bit my lip, trying to contain the grin that threatened to overtake my muscles. I wasn't successful.

"I guess I'm just used to being on the beach. If you look up there, you miss all the shells." I answered, moving to the opposite wall to replicate his posture.

"You collect shells?" He replied, his lips tugging up at the corners ever-so-slightly upon learning the tidbit.

My heart was beating awfully fast. "Mhm," I nodded. "I have a whole drawer back home just filled with them." Joy ran briefly throughout my body as I remember my lovely shells. It was nice to remember something that made me happy.

Finnick didn't respond, only cocked his head and stared at me with a silly smile.

After several seconds, my cheeks scarlet with rising blood, I looked at him bashfully. "What?" I asked.

"Nothing," He responded, pushing himself off the wall. "I just love it when you smile like that."

My face felt like it had been lit on fire, but I turned my eyes downward and allowed myself a self-indulgent smile at the carpet. "Like what?" I asked, looking up at his warm face. That's what Finnick was; warm. He radiated it. His voice, his words, even his skin tone just glowed to the point I was sure even the sun couldn't rival him.

I was definitely beginning to see what all the ladies of the Capitol were.

"Like you mean it." He answered decidedly. "Sometimes it doesn't look like you mean it."

I was slightly taken aback, but more than anything I was intrigued and amused.

"Are you feeling alright, Odair?"

"You say I talk funny, don't you?" He responded immediately, staring straight ahead.

"Yeah, but that's cause you do!" I answered, words marred with laughter.

"Well, it's the same as your smiles. You've got several of them that I've seen, and I wouldn't be surprised if you had more."

I had different smiles? This was news to me. I always smiled the exact same way... I mean, occasionally it was slightly fake. But who hadn't forced a smile once or twice? I felt uncomfortable talking so prolifically about myself.

"Well at least you're smiling again," I countered. "It was pretty tense back there."

"It seems Amphitrite and I have different ideas on how to protect you." He answered, directing me through the winding halls of the facility.

I wasn't quite sure how to answer this. You shouldn't be concerned about protecting me came to mind, but we both knew that wasn't true. It was his job. And after his revelation on the rooftop last night, I could hardly pretend he was concerned with Amphitrite's safety. I can take care of myself popped up too, but yet again the both of us would know how much of a lie that was.

"What if this is what's best?" I asked, genuinely curious of his answer.

He rubbed his face tiredly before shoving his fist in his pocket with a sigh. "Annie, I know this is a different year and a different Hunger Games, like he said. But that doesn't mean I don't know the game. I know Careers. I know their motives, their moves, their strategies. I've been studying these people for years."

I turned my head to study him momentarily. He was obviously beautiful, in all the ways I had already known. In the ways everyone knew and loved. But how could all his admirers miss the melancholy in his eyes, the weary expression of a traveller lost coating his face? Was it just me, or was there a slight purplish colour resting under his eyes?

Somehow I doubted it was makeup that hid all this from the Capitol. It was their own corrupted sight.

"He did what he thought was best," I exhaled, staring at my feet once again.

"I know he did." He paused thoughtfully. "Are you scared?"

I laughed briefly. "What a silly question."

Finnick cleared his throat uncomfortably, eyeing the wallpaper with the gaze of someone uneducated in such conversations. "I suppose it was silly," He conceded.

"I'm more afraid of him," I whispered, unwilling to raise my voice lest the ceilings be filled with all-hearing machines. "There's something about him I just can't figure out."

From the corner of my eye I could see Finnick's jaw tighten like it had during his confrontation with Amphitrite. His hands almost inaudibly scratched against his pant's pockets, balled fists stretching the fabric. He knew who I was talking about.

"He is not fully human." His voice was scathing and full of poison, and I was surprised by his vehemance. "But don't be afraid of him, Annie. I wouldn't let him get so much as 20 feet in front of you." His voice was soft and comforting, so different from the purr I had known him to speak in just days ago.

I smiled, expecting him to continue or further explain his dislike for the President. But he didn't. Instead, he pressed his hand against my lower back, leading me into a wing of the building I had never been in before.

"Where are we going?" I could hear the excitement in my own voice.

"I'm not sure," He answered with a shrug. My smile widened. I loved that answer.

"Sounds wonderful." I laughed, enthralled in the moment.

He joined in my random laughter before eyeing me for several seconds. "You have a wonderful laugh," He added nonchalantly before turning to face forwards.

My heart hammered in my chest, and my cheeks hurt from my attempts at restraining the smile that threatened to overtake my features.

"Thanks," I squeaked, my insides fluttering.

"You're very welcome." His tone was matter-of-fact, and he hesitated awkwardly, rubbing his neck in a way that signalled our conversation was about to take another turn.

"Annie, what do you know about the other tributes?"

My smile fell, and suddenly I was tired and weary, my head aching. "Not much, Finnick, if I'm being honest."

He sighed. "Nothing? I mean, you've been training with them for a couple days now..."

"I keep to myself," I muttered. "And so does everyone else." That wasn't entirely true; I had seen small group form in the training room. I just hadn't tried to include myself.

"Well maybe you should start to branch out and, ah, start getting to know some of the others." He didn't speak to me like a mentor should. He wasn't commanding me or acting as my boss; his tone was one of a recommendation, but nonetheless one could sense the critical undertone in his words.

I took a deep breath. He just didn't understand. "I can't, Finnick."

He stopped walking, instead turning to face my defeated posture.

"What do you mean you can't?"

"It's - it's too hard." Was my only response. His green eyes, which were so dangerously beautiful, looked at me with confusion. I shook my head, leaning against the cold stone wall, my eyes squeezing shut.

"I can't know them and watch them die," I breathed, almost unable to speak. He remained silent, only observing me with a thoughtful expression. "I can't know their names, their life, their family and see it all shattered."

I opened my eyes, but continued to face away from him. Making eye contact seemed too monstrous a task at this point.

His silence both relieved and scared me. Relieved because his lack of questions meant I wouldn't have to answer. Scared because... well, I wasn't quite sure.

With slow, silent footsteps that could only belong to a Victor he crept to me. His body blocked mine; his face filled my vision. "You are, without a doubt, the strangest girl I've ever met."

I absorbed him for a minute; his closeness and his energy rippled throughout my body. Finally my eyes alighted with a spark and I found the energy to smile.

"Thank-you for noticing."

END SONG

The next day.

FINNICK'S POV.

No one else sees it. No one else sees her the way I do.

She smiles and laughs for Mags and Amphitrite. She twirls and giggles for Leif and Stark. She pouts and winks for the crowd.

But it's in the moments when she isn't speaking; or when she thinks no one is looking. When she's walking to her room, or waiting for Leif to dress her. It's in the moment before everyone sits down for breakfast. It's in her eyes. They are hollow, and bleak, and full of sadness. She never allows herself to show anyone those eyes. But I watch her; I have seen what she hides. She is broken; and every minute passed is more pain, another crack in her already flawed masquerade.

With me she doesn't always pretend. Because somehow she knows I'm the only other person here who understands what it's like to be utterly shattered.

I only wish I could fix her.

As I imagine the girl with the frightening eyes, her lithe form enters the choreography room with a grace that I know Mariou has taken notice to. Anyone would. She slides me a smile as she passes, and I don't miss the blood that rises to her cheeks when I wink in response.

She's so cute when she blushes.

Even when Mariou enters the room and demands attention, I can only half-heartedly listen to him, as my eyes keep returning to Annie, as does my mind. There's something about her that's just... special.

But there's a voice that can pull my mind away from a vision even as beautiful as Annie.

It's Snow.

If I hadn't learned to lie so elaborately, both in words and facial expressions, over the past few years the other District mentors would be looking at very vicious snarl in this moment. The black demon cracks out of it's prison, the rust protesting against his attacks, but nonetheless he springs free and growls at the old President.

I hate him. I hate him with everything in me, and my hands itch to slice his neck open with as sharp an object as possible. He's announcing the roles each female tribute will have in the upcoming dance, starting with the Careers Amphitrite so stupidly dragged Annie into an alliance with days earlier. The girl from District 1 is chosen as Constancy, and I hear several snorts of approval from the other mentors. It's the only thing suitable for her - she's constant in her snarls and hatred. The young brunette from 2 is now to be Fidelity, and Snow explains her faithfulness to her partner has earned her the distinguished role.

He paces closer to Annie, and my fists curl reflexively. I can see her shift uncomfortably, leaning towards Amphitrite for support. That should be me, not him. She feels safe with me.

The small, mousy girl from 3 is chosen as Trust, for a reason I don't care to hear.

Now it's Annie's turn. I fight every instinct within me to charge my way towards them and pull her from the room, shove her onto a train and take her back home. Something like that would ensure her death, and mine.

"Ms. Cresta," He begins, his eyes sweeping over her in a way that makes my skin crawl. "With eased did we choose your role." A crooked smile fills his puffy lips, and my stomach churns. The smile looks so unnatural on his somber features. "You will be representing -"

I know it before he speaks the word.

"Beauty."

I really am sorry for my lack of updates, but I've got so much going on right now it's hard to find time for TW. And I know the past two chapters have been Finnick-free, but I'm pretty sure the next one will be ALL Finnick! So yay!

Anddd, if you guys want something to look forward to... the dance is coming... IN TWO CHAPTERS! Be ready, dearest readers! And I believe the next update won't be much of a disappointment either...