Hello again! So I know it's a lot of fluff till now. And yeah, its still gonna be. But just you wait! I have a lot of tragedy upcoming *tear, and evil grin* ;) So I shall be updating as fast as my lovely shall allow me. Oh and I am in utter apology to not giving credit to Ilovefinnick for the lovely name of Oriole, from her amazing story, Mockingjays at sea. So thank you:) okay! REVIEW PLEASE!

~Jenna

THREE

Getting up that morning is so hard, I'd rather just sleep forever. But eventually, mother literally drags me out of bed at nine thirty, and forces me to dress.

"Oriole's coming in two hours, Lav. Hurry up and get dressed." She walks out of my room.

Oriole and I have known each other even longer than Ive known Caleb. As a newborn, my parents would visit his mother, Annie. She had lost her husband, Finnick Odair, in the War and never seemed to recover. Her son was almost three years older than me, and we visited each other often. Once a month,lengths of time varying from one week to three.

Every time I visited him in Four, we spent almost every waking hour at the beach. God, I love the ocean. He taught me to swim at the age of seven, and you couldn't get me out ever since. But I was nothing compared to him. He was a natural born swimmer-no, fish. It was insane, how he started flipping and diving and soaring through the water so skilled at such a young age. I always admired him.

Unlike my friendship with Caleb, there was some tension between Or and I. For one, he was the most gorgeous boy you had ever laid eyes on, ever more so than Cale. He had golden brown, sandy hair that always brushed into his eyes, which were all colours of the sea. Shinning blue, bright green, hints of brown and these remarkable flecks of gold. His smile was addictive and his jaw perfectly chiseled. He wasn't as muscular as Cale, but he was taller, now around 6"6, Caleb was around 6"4. Or was lean and had strong, wiry muscles. God knew what he did to girls when he was shirtless.

Besides his looks, Oriole still had almost everything going for him. Unlike the somewhat hostile, recluse attitude of Caleb, Oriole was open and gentle. He was kind, in a way not a lot of people could understand. He was intelligent, especially in writing. He was charming as well as goofy and funny. He couldn't paint to save his life, unlike my father and I, but he was a decent singer.

I always wondered about how the two relationships compared to each other, but I could never understand it. I basically live with Cale, but when I get a chance to be with Oriole, I jump on it faster than any decision. I don't know how I feel towards him. I guess he's my other best friend. I would do anything for him, like I would for Caleb or my family, but there was something different about it. I had a thing for him when I was twelve. Puberty kicking in of course, but even after the breathlessness and angst had subsided, some parts of it stayed, teasing me at the back of my mind almost.

But Or and I were the best of friends. I could tell him everything. Anything, unlike anyone else. And he understood me. That was a rare thing.

The sound of my younger brother, Caspian, banging on the door breaks me from my mind jumble. Being the thirteen year old he is, he can't be anything but hyper, even though he's inherited every ounce of patience and gentleness from my father.

"Yeah, yeah I'm coming!" I yell.

I brush out my long, wavy hair and pull on jeans and a fitted black turtleneck, zipping up the hunting jacket and bounding down the stairs in brown combats.

When we arrive at the train station at eleven, there are only a handful of people besides us. The train pulls up and we stand in the first flurry of winter as it shrieks to a stop. I hold onto Caspians arm as he jumps off the train, boots scruffing the pavement as he turns to help a smaller looking, frail woman step down.

He's changed. His hair has become somewhat lighter, it's natural gold highlights shining against the white snow, his tan skin lighter, almost the colour of a normal person. He seems taller, which I don't know how is possible, considering he's the tallest boy I know. But his eyes. His eyes haven't changed, I'd anything they've gotten even more breathtaking.

"Lavie," his voice is so smooth it hurts somehow. His grin erupts into a smile and he strides towards me, and I throw my arms around his neck (which is hard because it's oh-so-high) and he lifts me off the ground, laughing.

"Orio!" I laugh.

And for this one moment, despite all confusion in my brain, I am, in this moment, simply happy.

•••

I now notice now how bad Annie, his mother, is. She's shrunk in size, only being my mothers age, and her beautiful flowing hair has become thinner. Her beautiful green eyes haven't lost its life though, and aside from the startling change in health, she's still beautiful.

But I know about it. Mother and father think I don't. But I heard, that night a long time ago where I shouldn't have been and shouldn't have heard.

Annie had something called cancer. It was never a problem before the War, but now, that there are other things to worry about, many sicknesses have broken out. Cancer isn't contagious, but it's still not curable. We could bring her to the Capitol, but all that would do now is buy her time in a life she probably suffers in anyways. I heard that the disease grew in her chest, behind her lungs, becoming her, slowly making her slip away.

It was getting bad.

I quickly snap my head from staring at her and wonder what chaos lies beneath that sweet-faced surface.

I look up at Or, still smiling his old smile. Laughing at my fathers joke. He looks down at me and I realize how small I am compared to him. He grins and takes my hand.

I missed him.

ORIOLEOHMYORIOLE3 Kay so ma peeps, I am totally in utter Fangirl love with my two hotties. it's not weird. I've decided. :) hope you're enjoying my little gift to the universe of fanfiction! Love you all, strangers:)