3
I gulp and feel my eyes go wide. My heart picks up pace as I feel a wave of dizziness wash over me. And I feel so out of it. Like I'm not grounded. You have control Annie. Breathe. In. Out. In. Out.
And I do. I breathe. As I come back to myself, I notice that I've been rocking myself and Odair has hold of my bent knees. In. Out.
His hands touch my hands. They're so much bigger than mine. Rough like he's worked at the Wharf all his life. They're nice hands. Hands that were meant to hold a woman's waist or grasp her palm in his in a dance. I've never noticed someone's hands before. They reassure me that I'm real. That I'm rooted to the present. A present I have no viable control over.
"Annie, you alright?"
I look up at him and see that his eyes are laced in worry. Worry for me. Why? He has nothing to worry for. Never has never will.
"Fine," I say as I give him a smile I don't feel. "You can let go of me now."
Odair looks down at our touching hands and slowly releases his hold. And I feel cold when he does, but I can't decide if that was because of his presence or that he was blocking the wind.
In my daze, I crumbled my letter. I try to fix it and just give up. I manage to stuff it in the envelope. The elegant script in a deep purple says A. Oriole. I hear him suck in a breath. Odair doesn't say a word even when I suspect he would. Maybe he thinks even some things should be private.
"I don't," I start to say. I'm not sure how to say this but I'll just do it anyway. "I don't...need you." He looks at me funny. "Not tonight." The corner of his mouth tilts up which makes me wonder all kinds of things about him.
"I know," he says. "Maybe I needed you?" I roll my eyes. Finnick Odair need me? Impossible.
He starts making this little scraping noise on the roof and I look to see what's in his hands. It's my hair pin that I placed in his coffee mug before the funeral. I suck in a breath. That feels like a lifetime ago.
I look him in the eye as I say, "Locked doors don't stop you, do they?"
He chuckles. "At least I didn't look in your things."
"I wouldn't have looked if I thought for a second that who you are is what you are."
Odair stops moving entirely. Like what I said matters and maybe it does. I'm not sure of anything anymore. The wind picks up and makes my skin pebble with goose flesh, but it's not the cold that bothers me.
"It's a mistake that I'm here," I say.
He's silent for so long that I don't think he heard me. But when he does, Odair doesn't say what I think he would.
"You could never be a mistake."
"That's not what I meant a you know it," I sigh. "Either the Gamemakers are getting lazy with their work or something else was at play."
He stiffens and it gives me the initiative to continue. "It was you wasn't it? Why save me Finnick?"
And I think my saying his name get him to look at me. I mean really look. I'm not some fragile thing ready crack at any moment even if I do feel that way.
"You'll always be worth saving no matter what it'll cost me."
Cost him? Did he bribe the Gamemakers. Was my win orchestrated like I thought earlier? I mean I was the obvious choice. I was probably the only one that could swim.
Then he does something I don't expect. At least I shouldn't expect it. He kisses me like he's dying. Like I'm holding him here and not gravity itself. He tastes sweet. Almost too sweet, and it reminds me that this shouldn't be real. My life isn't really real anymore.
"You can't," I say nearly panting. "We can't do that." And when he doesn't say anything, I go on. "We can't be that for each other Finnick. We can't keep going to each other chasing away our nightmares and sharing our heartache." I shake my head. "I mean you're Finnick Odair! The boy everyone loves. And I'm the girl that's going insane." He looks like he's about to object, but I carry on. "I'm in the State of Melancholia and we're not looking for visitors." I sigh as I stand up heading for the edge of the roof. "At least not ones that belong in the land of the living."
The stars are bright enough to tell the constellations, but I can't remember any of them. Not now.
"You don't belong with the dead," he says as he comes to stand next to me.
"I am dead Odair. You're the one that likes to pretend. But I can't go on pretending. I'm not good at it. Any trained eye could see that." The silence is tense, and I almost forget he's standing next to me but I don't. Who could? "In a few weeks you'll forget all about me and whatever it is I stand for. You should know lost causes when you see them." We're not on the best of terms now and I don't want to keep clinging to that. He'll leave. They all leave. I'm just some remnant of what's left behind.
"I'll prove you wrong Annie," he says, but it's just a whisper in the wind as he makes it over the edge onto the trellis.
"I never said I was right." Out of the corner of my eye I see him pause. But moments later he's gone. They all leave even me.
Slowly, I make it back to my room. The cracked door is the only indication that Finnick Odair came in here. I place my letter in the draw not bothering to open the box. I'll do that later.
The cold chill seep in from the window, but I don't bother to close it. It's a nice reminder that I'm in Four. I can smell the salt. Taste it actually. And that's the first sign that I'm crying. The silent tears are what cause me to sob in the too fluffy pillow someone placed on my bed. They're loud and I don't care.
I cry until my voice goes hoarse. And even then, I'm still going through the motions. Someone comes in my room. I feel them when they mattress squeaks. I don't bother looking. My head hurts too much to lift up. They wrap their arms around me. Squeezing me into warm. Into submission of sleep.
And just as the dream world takes me, I could swear that the person utters one word.
"Polo."