Author's Note: I'm so stoked that I have over 100 followers for this story! It's really surreal that people actually want to read the garbage that I write, but thank you regardless. After this chapter I have no idea where I am headed. I do have an overall idea of the plot, but the small scenes in between and how I am going to get there is really giving me a hard time. That and the fact that I lack motivation, but I'll still try. If you are still reading, thank you. I hope you enjoy this chapter and the many more to come!
My eyes fluttered open to darkness. The extravagant lights placed all over my room have been turned off. I can not remember turning them off, so I only assume Finnick had been in my room after he had left last night. The fact that he worries about me only fuels my fear of his feelings towards me. Just thinking about him makes something inside me churn. My situation with him has confused me so much, and all I want to do is stop thinking about him. Too much of my time has been spent thinking about the boy from District 4.
To take my mind off of him, I find myself heading towards my bathroom. The cool tiles press against the bottoms as my foot after every step; the feeling soothes me, showing me that I am not completely numb. It has been a while since I have seen my appearance. I do not know whether to be nervous about what I might look like.
I fill my lungs with air before staring at my reflection. My exhale is faster than my inhale as I look at myself after a week. Bones can be seen through my skin, but thankfully I have not fully wasted away. There is still some meat on me, but not a very healthy amount.
Cringing at my hollowed cheeks, I raise my hands to tug at the defined purple marks beneath my eyes. Bony fingers trace my cheekbones that are practically shooting out of my face. Goosebumps raise as I tug the collar of my shirt down and gasp at my collar bones. They stick out leaving a large crevice between the bone and my shoulder.
My shirt is fully removed, leaving me in the same bra I have been wearing since the Games ended. I glance at my ribs through watery eyes. Fingers feel the ridges down to my hip bones. A tear streams down my face as I stare at myself in the mirror, now raising my hands to run them through my unruly hair.
I pull at my roots, a frustrated scream rumbling in the put of my stomach. My knees wobble before giving out, hitting the hard ground beneath me. I know there will be purple marks on them tomorrow, but I do not care.
Hair rips and my eyes fall to my hands. Long strands of brown hair is clutched in each palm, yet I feel nothing. As I bury my head in my hands I feel the moisture falling from my eyes. A loud sob escapes my lips and I can not help but curl into a ball on the bathroom floor. The cold floor sends a chill down my spine as my almost bare torso comes into contact with it. Again, this cool feeling is the only thing that lets me know that I am not completely numb.
Each of my knees presses against me eyes, the fabric of my sweatpants soaking up the tears. More groans are made as my arms wrap around my legs. An especially loud scream is made as my hands pull at my hair more. Ripping sounds are heard again, the sound only making me feel weaker.
The feeling of my heart hammering in my chest causes my breath to quicken as well. I try to kneel down, holding myself up with one hand while clutching my chest with the other. My mind swirls with a dark fog, clouding my thoughts. It blocks me from finding essential information like how to breath.
I do not even notice Finnick burst through the bathroom door. My ears are unable to pick out his calls out to me, wrapping his arms around my chest as he pulls me off of the floor and back to my bedroom. His body sits on the edge of the bed, me sitting on his lap with his arms still wrapped around my waist from behind. His heavy breathing is felt on my neck where his head has nuzzled into. The hot air escaping his lungs hitting my skin, causing more goosebumps to raise. The slow rise and fall of his chest is almost comforting.
My chest imitates his, rising and falling at the same pace. I slowly regain my breathing, ridding myself of the black fog clouding my thoughts. My senses become sharper and I can feel the hot tears pouring out of my eyes. I can feel the rasp of my sobs, and the stinging sensation from where I ripped out my hair; the pieces laying somewhere in the bathroom and no longer clutched in my hands.
"Are you alright?" Finnick's voice hums against my neck. His kind actions and words make my heart ache. Everything he does makes it so hard for me to push him away. Especially when I need him more than ever.
I find myself answering him with a nod, turning my body to the side so that I can look at his face. His eyes are clouded with worry breaking me piece by piece. I do not deserve this. I do not deserve him as a friend.
Finnick sighed, "You called for me." Large hands rested against my cheeks as thumbs brushed the falling tears from my face. Heat followed his touch as his hands fell down my body, sliding along the outside of my arms.
"What?" I manage to speak with my voice croaky.
"When you were screaming," his fingers rubbed small circles on my back, "you screamed out my name."
I have yet to figure out why my subconscious always ends up yelling for Finnick to come to my aid. Maybe it is because he is the only person I know, or the way he has helped me so far. The exact answer was unclear to me, but I did not want to try and get into it.
"Are you hungry?" His voice rings through my ear, a soft kiss placed below my earlobe after he speaks. Every soothing touch, every calming tone, every sweet word hurts. I know I should talk to him about what he said. If I do not talk to him, then I might be leading him on in some way.
"Finnick," once again, I croak out. Even with my small voice, I still gain his attention instantly. Sea green eyes stare into my very being, seeing the depths of who I am. Only he can be able to make me feel so see-through with just a stare. It takes my breath away, leaving me unable to continue talking.
"What is it?" He encourages me to continue, obviously glad that I am not pushing him away this time. I can tell he is desperate for any kind of conversation; the look in his eyes tells it all.
"I," I pause to figure out how to word this question, or statement. The thought of confronting him on this topic made me want to curl back up into a ball on the bathroom floor.
"You?" Sea green eyes fill with hope, looking between both of my eyes. They try to search for the rest of my statement. He struggles trying to find what comes next, but he tries not to show it. He wants to be patient for me. He does not want to rush me.
"Do you," the question is on the tip of my tongue. The rest of the words are ready to be said, but no matter how hard I push I can not get them out.
"Do I what, Katie?" His hands grip my waist, shifting my body so that I am fully facing him. My bottom is still seated on his legs, but my legs straddle his waist. Our chests are nearly pressed together when his arms go back to wrapping around my waist. This causes me to involuntary place my hands on his chest. It is supposed to be putting space between us, but his strength does not allow me to budge.
"Finnick," his name rolls off my tongue. No matter what happens it will always be my safe word. Just to let me know that he is listening, and he is. I have his undivided attention. Nothing I say or do will get him to drop this conversation. Seeing how long it is taking me to say the words is only making him more curious.
"Katie," he mimes what I say, just to keep the conversation from ending. Every response he says shows me that he is willing to answer anything on my mind, no matter how stupid it might sound. He understands that he needs to help stabilize my mental state of mind.
"Do you love me?" The words taste vile on my tongue. My eyes searching his for an answer before he even opens his mouth. His pupils dilate and the whites of his eyes grow as they widen. Slowly, his mouth drops as if he was not expecting this at all.
"Katie, I," his answer starts, but never finishes. Instead, he changes the topic, "I think you should eat something. You haven't had any solid food in five days."
I am frustrated at his response, "I heard you say it."
Finnick's face grows pale at my statement, "What?"
A groan is set free as I tell him about the memory, "I don't know whether it was while I was unconscious or not, but we were in bed- we were laying in bed- and I had just woken up from a nightmare. You were being affectionate, as normal, and you told me you loved me." The words flow out of me and each syllable releases tension from my body.
His golden glow returns to his skin as I tell him my story. A long sigh is blown through his nose as his gaze falls to our connected hips. When his gaze meets mine there is the same glint in it there was the day we met. Pearly white teeth shine through the darkness of my room as he lets a small chuckle echo through the room.
"That was one of your dreams," one of his eyes falls down into a wink, "Glad to know that you dreamt of me."
Heat rises to my cheeks at his words and I can feel the tension leave my body. My shoulders slump and I relax against his body, allowing my arms to hug his neck. My forehead leans against his shoulder and I take in deep, soothing breaths. The air seems fresher since I woke up, but maybe that is just me.
"So," his hands hands run along the bony curves of my new body, "tell me more about this dream you had of me."
I allow myself to laugh into his shoulder, muffling the foreign sound. It feels like it has been so long since I have smiled a real genuine smile. My head shakes back and forth in embarrassment signaling him that I will not be telling him the details.
"Aw, come on Katie. Tell me what happened." My head leaves the crook of his neck to see him pouting. His pout only lasts a few seconds before he can not hold the serous face anymore, once again showing his white teeth.
"Now that I think about it, I am pretty hungry," I stall, moving to stand up. His hold is too strong, and I struggle trying to get out of it, especially with the amount of muscle I lost.
His pointy nose traces my jaw line as his full lips pepper kisses along the trail, "Was it a dirty dream?"
I can feel my face go red from his question, giving away the answer. My mind goes back to one of the earlier dreams where I had just woken up from slumber only to be met with a half naked Finnick. The feeling of his fingers on me had felt so real, and I actually enjoyed it.
"Who knew you had such a dirty mind?" His eyes were closed as his lips trailed a line of kisses down my neck. My gaze shifted towards the ceiling as he reached the valley of my breasts, reminding me that I had taken off my shirt during my meltdown.
"Finnick," I tried to gain his attention. My teeth gritted together, trying to hold in any unwanted noises. The last thing I wanted to do was encourage him. Not when I had just gotten out of the hospital and looked like a walking skeleton.
"Hmm?" His voice rumbled in the back of his throat, letting me know that he was listening. His mouth continued to make itself busy, kissing a trail back up to my neck before nipping and sucking on the tender flesh. I wince, knowing there is going to be a red mark there. The cooling sensation of his tongue makes me sigh and I almost find myself getting lost in his actions.
My stomach growls, telling him what I was about to say. This only causes him to laugh again before standing up and helping me to my feet. His legs taking him to my bathroom before throwing a red piece of fabric in my direction. I surprisingly catch it and realize it is my red t-shirt, slipping it on over my almost bare torso.
"Ready?" He asks while extending his hand towards me, reminding me that we are supposed to be in a relationship.
I nod, placing my hand in his while my feet slid into a pair of slippers. His fingers intertwine with mine and he pulls me towards my door. I worry about my appearance, trying to brush it off. People should understand that I was just in the hospital and there is nothing I can do to help fix my appearance.
As if he read my mind Finnick leans his lips down to my ear, "You look beautiful."
My heart shatters a little at his comment. All he does is treat me well, and it pains me because I know I do not deserve it. I will never deserve it.