09/10/2016
A/N: Last chapter. I don't really like how this one turned out, but for the moment, it's good enough. Hope you guys enjoy.
Disclaimer: I do not own The Hunger Games.
Bonus: Sixth Sense~
She can always tell when he's in the room.
Whether she's at a party, making a televised appearance, or moseying around in her kitchen, she can always sense when he's near. It's a strange talent, she thinks, and not necessarily useful, but she embraces it nevertheless.
There's a pattern, she's noticed; first the room falls eerily silent, then come the hairs standing on end and the goosebumps. Then the air electrifies as her senses zero in on the source, and time slows down for the briefest of moments before she finds him across the room, in the crowd, lingering behind her.
She's told him of this odd ability, though not in any great detail, and he in turn admits that he has his own strange talent; he can always tell when she's troubled.
He'll be away on business or attending one of Snow's parties, he says, when he is suddenly hit with an inexplicable feeling of dis-ease. He can never pinpoint its origin, and the feeling only grows into anxiety if he ignores it. All he knows is that it goes away the second he calls her and hears her voice, knows that she's alright.
She asks him to give her an example and he does, and she admits that she had been stressed and exhausted at the time due to his being so far from reach.
She tells him one night while laying in bed that in the long run her ability trumps his, as the second she realizes he's there, her troubles disappear. He merely laughs and pulls her close, snaking an arm around her waist as he smiles into her hair. It is on this night that she realizes just how deeply they've become entwined with one another, how strong their emotional bond has become.
She keeps his heart safe, and he keeps her mind at ease. What started as a simple agreement turned into something far deeper, and she finds that this doesn't disturb or vex her in the slightest. If anything, it makes her feel safe and secure, protected. Something she has never thought she'd feel since winning the Games. And though she knows that she doesn't deserve this happiness, doesn't deserve peaceful nights and sweet dreams, she selfishly accepts it, for however long it lasts.
Katniss takes hold of the hand around her waist, entwining her fingers with Finnick's. She brings their joined hands up to her mouth, and she lightly kisses their tangled knuckles before closing her eyes and waiting for sleep.
She doesn't know what awaits them in the coming days, months, years. All she knows is that she deeply loves this man, and that he loves her.
And at the moment, it's enough.