The Mockingjay and the Albatross
Author: Howlynn
Realm: The Hunger Games, Suzanne Collins
Story Title: Music
Summary: Finnick and Katniss play under the stars, under the no clothing rule and without the hurry of youth. Both are victors, but who will win the game of love? Is it even a game?
Character/Relationships: Katniss/Finnick
Music
Bonus material - warning, may contain any of the following ingredients –(old people, language. Spoilers, Sexual discussion, ghosts, sex, smexy lemons, smutty thoughts, sexual reference, sexual innuendo, reference to past violence, sadness, bondage, violence, dead characters being discussed, alcohol use, caffeine use, reference to man love, unintended exhibitionism, naked people, infidelity, reference to adultery, reference to other persecuted unacceptable sex (threesome), reference to possible non-consent and prostitution -whew the warning alone makes me want to read it again) If you have any allergies to these subjects, please take appropriate measures for your maturity level. Side effects may include but not be limited to: flaming of the author, Pm grouchiness, and unwanted hair growth.
Finn joins me, comfortably settling on the net mattress and opening the wine. I smile at him as he focuses on me with his still beautiful eyes as if he is memorizing me. We sit quietly, flirting without speaking at all. Somehow this wordless prolonged seduction out here under the stars, without even the normal barrier of clothing, heightens my want. My eyes keep darting over him, imagining how his skin will feel on mine in a few moments.
He is aroused and I have to wonder what he is waiting on. I become more and more bold in my appreciative looks of hunger. My glance lingers on his erection and I lick my lips, demonstrating my thoughts. He twitches himself in approval. I refuse to make the first sound and so does he. I reach out to him. He deflects my hand, bringing it to his lips. Finn gently sucks each finger, and then kisses the back of my hand before returning my hand to me.
I move to him and he shakes his head and points me back to my spot. I lay back, in frustration. I smile and crook my finger at him to come to me. His smirk grows wider, but he doesn't move. I shrug and toss a grape in the air and catch it in my mouth. He rolls his eyes and grins. I drink more wine and I yawn. His forehead wrinkles. I pretend not to notice.
I lay back looking at the stars, absently teasing my breasts. I let my hand slip lower, nails feathering my abdomen. His head has tilted to the side and he watches me intently. I touch myself slowly, as if nobody was watching. His mouth opens and I can hear his breath deepen.
I insert a finger inside myself and he sighs. I am wet and he is lying over there with what I want. I turn my head and focus, not on his face but on the instrument of pleasure he is deliberately withholding. Release is so close and touchable and I want to feel him inside me again. My breath is turning into a pant as that wanted thing that I can't have, tempts me. My own fingers are about to let my craving find discharge. I close my eyes to give way to it.
He is above me and his own breath is fast but controlled. He forces my busy hand away from myself and pins both of my hands above my head. I squirm and wiggle, trying to make him skewer me into bliss. He strokes me with himself, spreading my wetness with his granite formation, but still refusing to sink into my heat. I arch and beg with my actions and his eyes show amusement and power.
Normally, once upon our youth, I would be begging him by now and he knows it, but beings we are being silent, I must let my body speak. It is screaming, arching and being driven wild with the madness of this hunger. He lays his weight on me and I sigh, finally thinking he is giving into me. I am so intent on trying to receive him that I don't realize he has tied quick knots upon my wrists. I yank on them, having not had this occur in a very long time and never with him. He has my right ankle tied. Then roughly forces my legs apart and secures the other ankle.
He stands up and disappears. I yank on the bindings, the first waves of anger surging. He has left me in a state of need I can barely exist in, and now he denies me even my own release. I am naked under the stars and now helpless. I was so close, my body will not move away from that cliff and my legs churn seeking some measure of friction, now impossible.
He stands over me again looking down at me; he has a small tray of items in his hand. He bends his head and smiles. He lies down on his stomach and scoots forward until he is nestled to me. His tongue reaches out and flicks me. He is slowly teasing me to insanity. I hold very still panting, hoping he will not stop this time. Again and again he tortures me into almost pleasure. He has created numerous odd but pleasing sensations from the little tray of secret items he has tucked away near him.
I strain against the knots, trying to pretend I am not leaning into the wind about to fly. I am determined he will not to stop this time, even if I strain to hide that he has let me fall. I was a fool for thinking I could fake not responding for Finnick Odair. His very life depended on knowing every subtle sign of a woman and being a master musician in pleasure. He notices, smirks and stops. When he does, I can't take it any longer. He raises his head, again smiling.
I can't play anymore. "Please Finn." It is part moan part howl. I am beginning to shiver as my body is racked with need so great it physically hurts.
He crawls up to my face and sighs, "Please what?"
"Make love to me."
"I have made love to you with my eyes all night long, Katniss," he says as if he is satisfied with that alone.
"Use something else." I tilt my hips suggestively.
"Do you want me inside of you?"
"Yes. Please Finn. I need you."
"You have to earn it, Katniss."
"I have to what?" I say with gritted teeth.
"I want to be certain. You are thinking only of me." He rakes his teeth across my breast and I am near tears in my willingness to be so painfully toyed with.
"I am only thinking of you. If you do this to me much longer Finn, I am going to lose my mind and then I won't think at all." I am only partially joking.
"Then you better earn it fast, baby. You have to tell me one of your fantasies about me. One that gave you what you so desire now. Tell me one fantasy and I will give you your bliss. I won't accept anything tame or lame. Your most secret thing. One you have never told a soul. One just for me."
My mind is blank with desire and I can't even think of anything. Only one plays out in my mind and I can't tell him that one.
"That one Katniss. The one that just crossed your face. I want that one."
"I can't," I say seriously. My eyes fill. I am disgraced that he can read my face so easily.
"Yes, you can, and you will. Secret parts of you, that no other knows, are my treasure. I want you to hand me the power to please you like no other. Tell me, so I can make it come true." His voice is so soft and persuasive.
"No. It is too horrible. I will think of another."
He moves himself to me and even the slight pressure of him makes me begin to pant in agony again. "The deeper, the darker, the better. No limits, no going back. Give me that little nasty, horrible girl you have hidden away from them all. I want to please her. Only I can help her fly little Mockingjay. Be mine, at last. Tell me," he says right in my ear.
"It can't come true. It is from the past. From the Quell."
He looks in my eyes, interested, but not judging. He waits for me to keep going. He begins gently pulsing at my need, his body making promises of what I desire, if I just give him this one simple thing.
"There are no jabberjays. Just the barrier and nobody can stop you. You do what you told me they tried to get you to do. We are not allies. We fight, and you win," I say miserable that I have told him this.
"What about it excites you? Is it the death, that people would see, the danger, or the violence?" he asks kindly. His breathing tells me he is losing his battle to control himself so perfectly and exactly. He slips into me just the depth of a thumbnail, only a pledge of pleasure. It is so delicious I can no longer think, I would swear my soul to him at that moment. "Katniss, I can pull away and take my gratification, leaving you like this as long as it takes. As long as it takes"
"It's you Finn. It would have been horrible if it were real. I know that. The real would have been nothing but pain if it had happened then. I would have hated you for all time. But knowing what I know now. If I could go back, knowing what I know now, but still having the fear, and you overpowering me and being yours to do anything you want, knowing I can't stop you. It is something about the surrender of everything to you. The wet hot despair of that place, and that I might be your last as you are my first. It is all wrapped up together. It isn't the reality of that place we actually were. It is a liquid bit in time."
"Tell me the exact emotion you feel as it brings you to pleasure." His voice is gentle, encouraging. He slides deeper and I buck against him without control, but he matches my movements in reverse and he still controls all sensation. I relax, giving up, resolved.
My confession flows in gasps. It surges without thought. Everything I say plays across his face in some perverse way, I have not seen in him.
" I know I can't stop you. But it's more important that you know it. You have completely given yourself over to the beast. You always hold back Finn, you don't ever get beyond control. Just like this. You are still in control of yourself right now. I want you not to be. I am not and you know it. You never did get here, where I am now. Not even the last day. You lose your masks and it is like seeing your face for the first time. For one moment you have stopped giving, and directing. In my mind, yes you are raping me, but it isn't a stranger, it is my friend who I love. The fighting is real between us. No mercy, no game, no rules. No idea what you will do. No choice. You seek what you want. You are consumed, because you have won. Really won. It is imagining you lost, I think. Seeing you take. It's a different power than this. It is something I feel in you. You were sold. You lost your ability to give yourself completely. I think turning the tables, could fix it. They killed a piece of you. For once you are not the whore. I have to please you. Whatever it takes to make you alive again. That is what you take. "
His eyes are on me and he shivers. I gasp realizing what I have said to him. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean it." I say as terror strikes me at what he must think of me.
"Yes you did. Thank you." I can't read his face.
"Finn, I…"I want to take my horrible words back.
He thrusts forward and we both groan as finally he is willing to break me in enjoyment. I can't help but feel that I could wake the stars with my voice. He is not out of control, but he is closer.
The buildup of round one, made the event take the express train. It took a lot longer to learn to take air again without wheezing. We gazed up at the sky. There are marks on my wrists from the rope. "So can you see the stars yet?"
"They are all up there. I will let you know when they quit swimming around," He says reaching out and holding my hand.
"I am not crazy about being tied up," I say softly.
"I'm sorry. With you, I would find it very intriguing," He says, with a funny chuckle following.
"I don't like not being able to touch you."
"Put that in my book of things I have learned about Katniss. Likes rough, hates rope."
"You treated me the way you did those people who paid a long time ago. That is the sort of thing you did to get them to tell you secrets. I don't mind if you did it for fun, but I am not here to just be one more thing you have to do, if you don't want to."
His eyes glitter, looking like a demonic being with his pupils reflecting the candles. "That was one of the things I did to get secrets. With you it was meant to be fun. It was a most interesting revelation."
"Finn, you are playing games with me and I don't understand the rules."
"There are no rules. Not this time." He rolls up on his side to look at me, propped on his elbow. "I am done with the rules Katniss. I will give you anything you want and I will take anything you choose to give me. When our time is up, I want no regrets. This is ours alone, and it will never belong to another creature of this world."
"Does our time have to end?"
"Of Course it does baby. Everything ends. That's what makes it so precious."
I study him and sigh. I sit up and kiss him gently. "You are precious to me Finn. You always have been."
As the kiss ends he drops his eyes. "I don't deserve you. I don't deserve this."
"Why would you say that?"
"Because it's true. You will know soon enough. Just remember, I knew it."
"What are you saying? You aren't planning on going back are you?"
"I don't belong there anymore. It is your world now. I no longer exist there."
"That isn't true. Your kids. And me? We do need you. I know things are difficult, but they can be fixed. You still have plenty of time to …"
"She is right, Katniss. Rue. You can see I have been a failure as a father. The obligation is over, and I will never live under one again. I will spend my time exactly as I choose, make my peace and end this life on my terms, no one else will ever own me again."
I drop my eyes, trying to see if his words mean he is wanting only freedom, or if he is seeking death. "Do you think that is what I am doing here? Trying to demand some obligation from you?"
"No sweet one, you are here to tempt me in continuing that life back there. You want to fix the unfixable, save the unsavable and love the unlovable. That is who you are. You want a last love story and I am trying to give it to you, to some degree, but it will not change who I am. Who I have become is of no value to anyone. None what-so-ever to you, pretty Mockingjay."
"What will you do Finn?'
He lies back down, looking at the stars, tucking his hands behind his head. "I will fish."
"Alone? If you would let me I would go with you. No obligation, no strings. You can always send me for a swim if you get tired of me."
"That would be lovely. We will see. Maybe," he says with a roll of his eyes.
"Oh," I say blushing in delight. This is a little test for both of us. The games are to see each other better. To know each other. He and I are not off the table in his mind, but it has been forty years and who knows where we will go or if we can really get along.
He is measuring us in some way. I feel relief at his words. I was so afraid he was only filling in some last wish. I can live with him just giving us a little alone time to see if there could be more than only our old friendship. He is saying that he is not going to keep hanging around, being treated like an old guy with no right to do as he pleases around his children, but he isn't just on a suicide mission.
I think of his life and I think I can understand him. He has been owned his whole life. He has spent his years being the protector of people. His childhood was reaped just like mine. The capitol bought and sold his youth. Then he was owned by the rebellion. Then he became a husband and father. He has done his best and he isn't needed to protect anyone now. He wants to spend his last years pursuing what he loves. He doesn't want the kids telling him who he can love or what he's too old to do. He wants to accept his past, good things and bad, and let himself find out who and what he is without duty.
I like the idea. I can honestly feel the draw of it myself. I have always been able to love him without demanding him or feeling the need to force more out of him than what he offered with an open hand. The attraction between us is still real and full of fire, but that doesn't mean we have to be joined at the hip in everlasting contract. Maybe we will want to spend time with each other in the future. Maybe we will annoy each other after a week or six months. It doesn't change that we care deeply. But it sets us up for no failure if we are different people, who are not meant to be around each other as constant companions. He is not saying he doesn't want me at all, just wants to not spoil it with expectations.
"Why are you smiling like that Katniss?"
I shrug. "Because you said maybe. I thought you were planning on …finding Annie. I was afraid I was in an unspoken game to tempt you to live at all. You aren't saying we are not important enough. You are just saying we don't have to force anything that isn't there. You want to control your life. You have never had that. If we get sick of each other it isn't the end, or some beacon of failure we have to drag out for anyone. We both get to take a breath and see who we became before we fall into the patterns of the world. You don't hate me being around, and you and I have so much between us, but it's like we are bound so tightly by things others can't see, that we don't have to show anyone but each other."
"Is that how you feel Katniss?"
"I think it is. I think I could be with you and be happy but still not hook you, net you and hang you on the wall. Bound to each other with love only. No demands and no possession."
"And you think you could live in a situation like that? Not stuck on the boat with me because you think it is what you must do. Not afraid to say you do want to be here. But not expecting me to come running at every whim. Happy to see me, even if I have kept you waiting a little. Happy to go, when you feel the want of me and ready to port when you have the need of landing? Content with what we get. No bargaining with me that I am too old. You could live with the day I don't return, or with the day we find our last port. You would not lament time spent with me rather than with your grandchildren? The sea is a dangerous, hard place. The MockingJo is like you and I, she is sound as she ever was in her pretty days, but even she can't command the sea. I want no fear of life or death Katniss. Every day. This calm weather is not the only face of the sea. She can be an ugly creature. The sea does not forgive mistakes. Can you ride the big waves with me or are you only expecting calm water."
I stare at him, considering his words. I grin. "We will see. Maybe."
He nods with approval. "Then we will use this time to open our eyes to each other in every way. I will know you as no one before has. No secrets, no shame between us. Then we will find out if there is any maybe. However it turns out, no regrets."
"I told you my deepest secret. You haven't told me any." I laugh.
"Before our time is up, you will know them all." He seems surprised he said that, but nods to himself as if he's just deciding it is a good idea.
I grin, evil and sweet. "Any subjects off limits? Even if they hurt? The truth to the best of our knowledge?"
"If we are to have any small hope, I think it's the way it will have to be. All secrets out. Even the painful ones. But we have the right to defer an answer long enough to gather our thoughts."
"Sounds ok. All the deep dark secrets of Finnick Odair. Man, I know people who would really do anything to be in my shoes right now. If I had shoes. Where are my clothes?"
"Deferred," He says firmly.
I push him gently and playfully. "Jerk, I need a toothbrush. And my other girly things."
"Oh. Well then that is a different question." He stands up and he disappears down the hold. I consider peaking at where he goes, but so long as he is naked for me, I can live with his little prank.
Maybe I pushed my way onto this boat, but at this moment I am so glad that I did. The alternative, of dealing with the kids after he has taken off, would have been horrible. I just read too much into things. I would have been sure I would never see him again if I were still standing there at the docks. I would have blamed them.
"Your girly things, are in the bathroom," He says flopping back down on the mattress.
"Thank you." I pour more wine for something to do with my hands.
"About what I told you Finn…"
"How did you know? How do you know about that?"
"Because I have never seen you, not be perfect. You choose exactly when. I mean, that is amazing, but you never have an early out or a stray shot. Haymitch could still lose control. He usually had to be mad at me but, when he was, my compliance was not necessary."
"How did you feel when he forced you?" He is squinting at me with concentration.
"Finn, when you love someone, it is nice. It isn't the same thing as being attacked by some thug. There is something wild about it, feral. It is a hard place to reach, that mix of anger and hate and desire and love. I told you anything, so it is hard for us to get there, because of the pleasure I feel in pleasing you. But every time he took me that way, I saw him lose some of that iron grip on his need to be in control."
"Control was…is survival, Katniss," he says.
"Yes. For you. Because you are still everyone's whore. You are never whole, because you are still there. You can't give into a moment of selfish pure want. You are still doing a job. You find satisfaction, but not because you gave way to it. You don't ever take pleasure, for your own sake. You allow it, but no more."
"But I forced you when you were tied up."
"No. You tricked me, manipulated me and traded pleasure for information. I was your customer, Finn. Could you lose yourself in Annie?"
"In some ways, but she was so fragile, I never dared. She is the closest I felt to clean, but I always felt like I soiled her by wanting her, so I never initiated. Her rules, her wants."
"I may be a bad choice, you know. If I kicked your pretty hide, you would be damaged for life." I tease.
"You mean, seriously…"
"You could try. Haymitch was wily and he didn't always come out on top." I smirk with earned pride.
He frowns at my words, searching for the holes of this truth. "What if it gets out of hand. What if I hurt you?"
"Good luck with that, sweetheart." Haymitch's exact diction came out of my mouth.
"Katniss, I outweigh you. I am stronger. Forget it."
"Think about it Finn. Haymitch could beat the shit out of you. I could beat the shit out of him a little under half the time. What are the chances of you hurting me?"
"Wow. He hit you?"
"Usually not. We tended to exert pain with cunning. We only had a couple of knock down drag outs. We were not a normal married couple, Finn. There was nothing like us. If you and Jo had married, instead of you and Annie, that would have been a similar volatility. Annie won, but she was never a victor. Two victors. Married."
"Katniss, you did see me fight. I didn't get better over time. My temper is horrendous. If I hurt you." He is shaking his head.
"You will never win a battle with me in anger. Besides Finn, It will be a different mindset. Your purpose is not to kill. We will have a safe word."
"No, I don't like it."
"Obviously you do like it. Naked is informative. Up to you. Mull it over, while we begin round two."
He obliged me my want of him this time, without antics or game. We were finally pure adoration in the broad starry night.
The wind had picked up by morning. Finn gave me boat-driving lessons. Because the wind was chill, we put on light gear. We fished and talked of old times. I hauled in a small sea bass and watched him clean it with expertise gained from a lifetime of practice. He grilled it with rosemary and garlic but most of it went to his freezer for later. The MockingJo was a little self-contained world. She needed fuel cells two or three times a year and fresh water when the tank was drained, but the rest of the ship ran itself. I would want to make port for fruit and other foods, but most of what we needed could be gained from the sea. He showed me how to set the trawler's nets and the MockingJo looked like some sort of huge sea butterfly dipping her lacy wings into the water for sustenance.
Finnick grinned at my fascination with his world. The only thing he needed help with was when he hauled in. He was so efficient that I could imagine him managing it himself, but it did work better with two people. He'd found a huge school of slippery little jumping darting silver fish, he called sardines, and I laughed at how tiny they were. I teased him that they were no bigger than bait. A million of them seemed to cover the deck as we separated the seaweed, trash and unwanted fish from the catch.
"You bring me luck Mockingjay. The sea approves of you. We will dine in port tonight, after we sell this bounty."
"You mean we are going home?" I ask with disappointment.
"No. These little fish-baits are a grand catch; we will have to sell them down in Cannery Coe. Do naw worry. You will like it there." I looked down from the bridge. We had to do something, his hold was full, the deck was covered and another net hung heavy with the slippery little fish. Honestly, I was exhausted. Fishing was a huge amount of work. I also reeked of the little silver devils. I had always found the scent pleasant on Finn and his sons, but now I realized, I had only ever smelled the tiny bit that didn't wash off. I ended up napping on the ride back to land.
The port was a bustling unorganized place. There seemed to be no rules and I was a little frightened twice, as Finn guided our vessel through the mass of churning boats of every size. Nobody seemed to notice or care that we came inches from crashing into each other. I watched the other boat captain's weathered whiskery faces.
"Finn why don't you grow a beard. I have never even seen stubble on you," I blurt.
"They wanted me clean shaven and baby faced. It made the old men who fucked me feel young. It made the old women feel pretty. They killed the roots long ago. Even something so small and normal, was taken from me without my will. They took everything along with my soul. Some things never grew back. Sometimes I still wonder about what is normal. Tell me, how would you feel at your age, taking a fourteen year old as he cried and begged you to stop?"
"I can't imagine a more disgusting thought," I say, trying to hide that it nearly brought me to tears. I was thinking of someone doing that to Rue's son Flynn, who is a carbon copy of Finnick at that age. He is so beautiful that everyone fusses over him, and yet he still looks like a baby. How could we have ever been so young and nobody offer a moment's compassion to our youth. Looking back it is hard to reconcile that without my rebellion, that had brought so much sorrow, Little Flynn would probably be a victor by now, like his Grampa. This moment, a woman my age could have paid for the pleasure of forcing him to do anything. "Do you realize, Flynn?"
"Flynn is almost seventeen. By his age I didn't exist any longer Katniss. I had tried to kill myself six times and tempted customers to do it until Haymitch stepped in."
I franticly try to banish pictures of Flynn, mixing in with Finnick and Haymitch. I don't pay much attention to our docking; I am lost in the past. Haymitch saved me. I wish I could go back in time and save them.
Finn dickers and waves his arm as he and the one who will purchase the little slithery shiny fish come to their wary agreement. Finn tells me to head up the hill to the open market and hands some of the money he's gotten. "I look horrid. I smell," I complain.
"You look local, baby. Nobody will recognize you. Go, be you for a couple of hours. Have a little fun, shed of the Mockingjay burden." He grins and kisses me on the cheek.
I wander up to the market. Nobody pays attention to me. I am just part of the crowd and it feels like taking a deep breath. Nobody here cares what I do. I don't have to buy things I don't want to keep from hurting someone's feelings. I don't have to be stopped and questioned and listen to the stories of the war. They always want me to hear about the war. Where they were when I was shot, how they cried for Haymitch, Peeta's unexpected death, the names of their loved ones, were all fair game for a momentary conversation. I had learned to be hard inside and mask a look of sympathy and kindness, but nobody ever thought that randomly walking up to me and bringing up the most painful moments in my life might get tiresome. I appreciated they remembered, but this little anonymous walk, was proving to be almost magical.
I pause at one stall. An old blind woman sits in the booth. I eyed her necklaces. They were just cheap simple glass beads with a bobble of some sort. There were the inevitable Mockingjays, tridents and starfish. "May I help you find something you like?" she asks suddenly.
I wonder how she knew I was here. "You wouldn't happen to have anything with sardines on it, would you?"
She stands and smiles, her fingers nimbly sift her jewelry. "There you are," she says, "It's silver, not the junk, like up there. I don't have much call for them, but the silver tamp was left to me, so I work them in." The little fish glitter in the sun, nose to tail, forming an unending circle of fish. We quietly haggle on a price and settle without the theatrics of Finn and the fishmonger.
I move on, buying a drink here and a snack there. I am looking at brightly colored gauzy sundresses when I hear the shout of voices, calling "Flyin Finn-ooh," in good natured greeting. I spy him strolling up the street pausing here and there. He sees me and winks as he chats with a grizzled old man. Finn slips a few coins secretly in the old man's pocket like a reverse cut-purse.
He looks at the dresses and selects one, holding it up to me. He puts the pink and yellow one back then lifts a green, aqua and deep blue one. He hands the woman the dress and they disappear into the shelter of her tent. He returns with it wrapped in paper and a soft smile on his face. "So you buy me cloths, but won't let me wear them?"
"Come on. I have checked us into a room. We need a shower before dinner." He doesn't wait for me to comment, just heads off back down the hill, peeking behind him to see if I am following.
The hotel overlooks the harbor. It has seen better days but the long hot shower is exquisite. He joins me and we act like two teens touching and giggling. Enamored with each other, we are tumbling to the bed unwilling to even dry ourselves off before we are linked in furious rhythm.
My hair dries in a messy jumble. The dress ends up being slightly see through but as I complain of it, I see that was his intent. I feel exposed and embarrassed all through dinner, especially as he whispers things in my ears about how plainly he can see every movement. He keeps touching me and my nipples stand out to his amusement. Each time they calm down he brings them to life again until I am ready to stab his hand with a fork. As desert arrives he slips his hand up my dress and is making it difficult for me to even think of eating.
I think we are going back to the hotel, but instead he drags me along to a deserted little park. There is a little stone memorial and as I read it, I realize it is dedicated to him. "They commemorated your games?" I ask, horrified at the thought.
"I always hated this place," he says, his hands roaming on me softly. He is leaning into me from behind and my dress has affected him this evening.
"Why bring me then?" I ask, taking one of his hands and kissing the back of it.
"Bend over," He whispers lifting my skirt above my hips and guiding my torso down to rest on the stone.
"Finn, this is a public place." I protest but don't move. Without another word, he slips inside me. The fact I am letting him take me without question, against my better judgment and against my normal public propriety, is exciting in a dangerous way. I am terrified there will be a flash bulb and my face will be drug all over the Media. Former First Ladies should not ever be caught being humped like a dog on a national commemorative monument.
I don't make a sound as I shiver under him and feel myself clench him wildly in waves of heated fervor. He bends over me and a short grunt escapes as I feel his muscles turn from iron to an accumulation of shuddering weight. His enjoyment must have been rather massive, because I can feel the warmth he pulses in me spill over.
We quickly rearrange ourselves as if we haven't turned into two old farts who have completely lost our minds. "I have never, ever in public, Finn. That was a bad idea." He is still breathing hard and he leans on the stone, head down shoulders high.
"I know. You should have stopped me," He says. He eyes me as if it doesn't please him that I didn't stop him. He steps to me slowly, his eyes scrutinizing me. "Now you have to walk home dripping of me the whole way." He pulls me to him and crushes my lips with his. His mouth is hard and demanding and I yield to it trying to understand his strange behavior.
He has a lost look on his face as he pulls away. "I was not gentle with you. I took you like a slut, and you liked it." He is both making a statement and wanting me to confirm his observation.
"With you? Yes, I liked it. It pleased you." My throat is dry with adrenaline and fear, making my voice husky.
"It nearly made me…I was not in control for a split second. It was such a strange feeling. I wanted you here because I have always been ashamed of this place. Now it is a place that will make me think of you. Your body responds without your will?"
"Sometimes, of course."
"What if you were sold like me. Would you have found it survivable?" He is so curious as if my answer is a key to my inner locks.
"I can't answer that. Finn, I have nothing but respect for you that you did survive it."
"You don't look down on me? You don't think less of me for being at someone's disposal, to use in any way they wanted? For as long as they wanted. No will, no choice, used like a thing?"
"No. I never think of you like that. I only hate them for doing it to you, not you for surviving it."
"Prove it."
"What? How?"
"Walk in my shoes. Once."
"You want me to have sex for money with someone?" I am mortified, horrified and going to be sick.
He holds up a wad of bills. This is the money he made from the sardines. "Not with just anyone Katniss. I want you to be a whore. I want you to be my whore. We both may learn a lot."
"Are you crazy? Finnick, what else have I been. How does a wad of bills change it? I want you, so it won't be the same. I still won't understand how horrible it must have been for you."
"Maybe not exactly. But, once you cross the line you are always a whore. If you take this and are forced to perform any act I desire, without any say in the matter, I think some of it will seep in. Join me. Be a whore like me." He is laughing at me.
"No. This is the silliest thing I have ever heard."
"I see. So you are better than me. Cleaner, more pure. I am just a thing to you. I don't exist. All these years, and I didn't get it." He smiles and I can see his fake masks sliding back into place.
"No. I don't think like that. Not at all!"
"You just proved you do Katniss. We were going to the room and I was going to fuck you. You just let me bend you over and use you in public. I am not even asking you to take it from a stranger. But you can't leap into my life, ever. Because, the thought of being a whore, instead of just using a whore, is too ugly for you to contemplate. You can't accept money for things you were going to probably be doing anyway. That is what you think of me. That is what you all think of me. That is why I won't ever be going back."
I am standing there staring at him dumbfounded. The wad of money is shoved back in his pocket. He tosses the room key at me and I catch it. He smiles, turns and begins walking away. He's strolling along as if he has forgotten I exist. "Finnick," I call out, "Finnick, what are you doing."
"Enjoy your room and the rest of your evening. Be at the boat in the morning. I am taking you home." He doesn't look or sound angry. His face is perfectly pleasant, but he keeps walking.
Ok, I know. Finn is acting strange - once you see the whole picture - the games will become clear. Grin - you know I rarely put a detail in without purpose - there are bombs ahead...and mines in the water - Thank you all for your reviews!