A/N: Okay, so for anyone still interested or wondering, YES I am going to finish Spark to Flame. I'm sorry I haven't updated in months, but I've gotten a job and therefore have had little to no time to get anything even remotely creative done. It sucks, but I'm learning to manage my time better. I do have a bit of the next chapter for StF written (about 1/3 of it, I'd say) but I can't say when it'll be finished and posted.
In the meantime, I hope you like this little fic. It's a short series of vignettes focusing on Katniss and Finnick, and is in no way related to StF, but it's been sitting in my files for months and I feel like it's good enough to share. There are six chapters, and I plan to post one a day. Please enjoy :)
Disclaimer: I do not own The Hunger Gamea.
Chapter one: See~
From the moment he sees her, he knows she will be his undoing.
He's at a Capitol party, entertaining a group of guests to appease the young woman paying for his services that night, when she comes into the room. A shimmer of gold, a flash of brown, a part in the crowd, and suddenly he is yanked from his social bubble and thrust into a vision of brunette hair and silver eyes and shining metal and smooth leather.
The Great Katniss Everdeen, Victor of the 74th Hunger Games and newest addition to the Capitol's ever-growing collection of playthings, stands in the middle of the room.
He had heard about her, the District 12 girl who had volunteered for her sister and sacrificed her partner to win the Games, but he had never had the privilege of seeing her in person.
His eyes roam over the ridiculous getup that she is somehow pulling off, from the tight and reflective leather dress to the silver bracelets traveling up her wrists, to the golden crown atop her head that was surely fashioned to look like a halo, bathing her in a soft glow. The makeup around her eyes make her silver irises seem as though they are ablaze, and he isn't sure if this is the intention of her stylists or just the effect her gaze has on those who dare look her in the eye.
He knows that he has observed her long enough by this point, but he simply can't stop staring. She is a woman that demands attention, with her commanding presence and cold stare, yet one can easily tell that she doesn't actually want any attention at all.
It's her eyes.
Even from the distance he's been standing at, he can see the heat behind her gaze, like blazing coals left to burn in liquid metal. He wonders if they could set him on fire.
His appraisal is cut short when her mentor approaches her and taps her on the shoulder, catching her attention as he whispers something in her ear. She turns her head to stare off at something in the distance, most likely at his request, and just like that, she disappears from his view.
The night carries on as usual, but it doesn't pass without him looking every so often in the direction Katniss had gone in.
He can't help it, he's curious.
That confidence.
That sureness of who she is and what she stands for.
That quiet fire.
He wants it.
He wants her.
He wants to know what it is that grants her such pride and self-worth, what it is that drives her, that fuels the spark that even the Capitol hasn't been able to extinguish within her. He wants to know what it is about her that draws him in, to know exactly what she's made of, down to the very last atom.
Yes. It may be the first time he's seen her, but it won't be the last. He'll make sure of it. After all, if there's one thing he knows in this world, it's that fate works in mysterious ways. In all likeliness he wouldn't even have to do anything; their own social circles would do them in, would force them to gravitate towards each other at some point in the future, be it near or far.
Not once does Katniss Everdeen gaze in his direction, or seem to take notice of who he is or who any of the dignitaries attending the event that night are. They were of no importance to her. He was of no importance to her.
But that will change.
He'll make sure of it.