2

Finnick Odair must like to be a pain in the ass. No, not a pain in the ass. My personal pain in the ass. He laughs at me, and I realize I just said that out loud. Stupid, stupid, stupid.

"You're bleeding Annie," he says.

And I look down and see that my foot didn't stop. I left a trail all the way here almost. The sail has taken up some of it along the way given how red-black it looks.

He pulls my things away from me and makes me lean on him. Finnick doesn't say a word as we make it to Victor's Beach. I'm grateful for that but I wonder what is stopping him from saying something. He's usually bursting with energy and life. And now he just seems as lifeless as I feel.

Despite Finnick's help, I still stumble up the porch steps to my house. My house. I'll never get use to that.

Stepping inside, I gasp in shock. This is not the house I left this afternoon. This afternoon, paint still caked some of the windows and fish wreaked inside making the air almost unbreathable. Now, it's as if I'm not in my house. But I am. It's the correct place.

Finnick places my bag on the floor as I hobble into the kitchen where I discover another person. Someone I know that I know I've never met. They certainly aren't from District Four.

This man is dressed in all black, looks a few years older than myself, and has skin as dark as the coffee Odair drinks. If it weren't for the gold lining his eyes, he could belong here.

He smiles at me. It's a warm smile and I can't help but smile in return, and I don't really know why.

"Umm...hello," I say because I don't really know what to say. I'm itching for Odair to come in here and ease the awkward tension that's coming in the room.

"You should probably sit down," he says pointing to a chair then looking at my foot. I look too and see the blood. I haven't really lost a lot. I'm just a bleeder. But I do sit down in a chair. There's a mug of hot chocolate in front of me. He makes this go on gesture for me to drink, and I now feel like a guest in my own home.

The hot chocolate eases some tension in me, and I don't realize that this man is cleaning up my wound like an expert healer.

"Thank you…"

"Cinna," he says.

"Cinna," Odair says jovially. "Glad you could come."

"Clayton asked me so-"

"So as his intern you were his beck-and-call boy."

Cinna gives Odair this look as if he's saying, "And I'm not the only one." But he just shakes his head for a moment then says, "I've been given an indefinite visa to stay in Four."

My ears perk up at that. Traveling between districts is forbidden except among Capitol workers and officials, and Cinna is apparently neither one of those. And I've heard that the visas are hard to come by according to my peppy trio.

"Why?" I say.

Cinna's eyes light up as he says, "Clayton wants me to make sure all the clothes he sends fits you and your cousin perfectly. It's one of the last steps before I can become a Stylist."

"So you like the games," I say. I can't believe it but I should. Everyone in the Capitol likes the games. It's just that Cinna seems so different.

"I like clothes Anneliese," he says with laugh.

My mouth opens and shuts several times before I decide to say nothing. I don't know if Cinna is serious or trying to be funny. So, I stand up and say, "I need to put Lucy to bed."

"Mollie's watching her and Nate in one of the rooms," Odair says leaning on the counter. "They're probably asleep." I nod in agreement. Lucy might not even wake until midday if I'm lucky.

"Well," I say, "shut the door when you leave." I limp towards the door then say, "Nice to meet you Cinna." And before either of them can say anything, I hurry as fast as I can out of there to the living room to retrieve my things in the sail. It's still there where Odair left it. It feels a lot heavier but maybe I'm just sleepier.

It takes me a while to carry it all up to my room without a sound. The lock clicks louder than I expected, but it makes me feel better. For tonight, I push all the things under the bed except for the charred box of mine. I open it and discover the contents are safe. Safer than I could ever be.

I pull out the envelope from the bottom then shut the box. There's a new nightstand next to the bed so I place the wooden box in the draw hoping no one will open it until I can find a good place for it soon. The envelope flutters to the floor as I yank open the window. Someone must have fixed it and now I think that someone must have came with Cinna.

An old wooden trellis is next to my bedroom window. It looks sturdy enough to hold my weight. With the thickness of the envelope in my mouth, I make my climb up to the roof. It's not far and good thing too. The trellis won't make it too many more times I think.

The moon hits just right so I have plenty of light on the roof. It's as if the sun never set.

I pull out the three pages from the now wet envelope and begin to read:

My Oriole,

You're such a clever girl. A lot more than myself I must say. You, my love, have taken my breath away. And I wish I knew who you were. You are not named Ariel as you say. So, maybe you are an Aurora since your smile is as bright as the northern lights? Or Azul for the deep ocean blues of our waters and how deep your eyes are seem to be? Or an Adelaide for you are noble and kind?

Oriole, I've only known you for the shortest moment...but that moment was the best moment in my life. You made me feel as if I were alive again. And I never feel like that any longer.

My life is so planned and coordinated, that I hope yours never turns out like that. And it never will. I'll make sure of it.

But, your cleverness was almost cruel. You didn't show Oriole. I don't know whether to laugh or applaud you for eluding me. Why didn't you come? I waited for hours. I'm pretty sure the people coming and going to the market looked at me funny all day.

But this is why I write to you. In hopes that you will write back. Please write back. I just found you. You understood me when no one else ever has. I've never come across that in first meeting a person.

Like you, I will not tell you my name until I guess yours. That may seem strange or even unfair, but I guarantee that I'm right in front of you.

And until I meet you, I will remember...the smell of citrus in you hair...the gaze of your eyes…the press of your fingers...the way your lips molded to my lips...the way you will always be mine…

My love,

Hummingbird

I fold the heavy parchment back and—and notice I'm not alone. Finnick Odair has climbed the roof and sits right in front of me.