Poison and Wine: The Civil Wars.
Finnick's house was empty. His parents stayed in the Victor's mansion now. He was rarely home anyways. The house was cold and we shivered with our clothes in our hands. Finnick wrapped a towel around me, and then one around himself. He walked over to the old fireplace in the den and began working on a small fire to dry our clothes and keep us warm. My heart leapt at each glance he gave me. When he cradled me in his arms for warmth, I thought I would break from pure happiness. We sat on the worn couch in the comfort of being alone, with each other. I rested my head on his chest, breathing in the salt off his skin and listening to the beating of his heart. He pushed my hair back, letting his fingers run easily through the soft messy curls. We talked about silly things as always, until I felt very guilty. "Finnick, what's going on?" I asked quietly.
He stopped breathing for only a second; his fingers trembled as they ran through my hair. "What do you mean Annie?" His voice was calm, like the still waters of a marsh.
I sank into his arm, watching the fire. "Why do we do this?" I asked as sadness extended a cold hand to my happy heart. It had been the moment with Finnick I used to dream about. It had been a moment I had fallen back in love with my Finnick, and all I could do was measure the sadness and watch it outweigh any moment Finnick and I had ever found peace.
"What?" He asked once his breathing had calmed and his fingers had gone back to their natural pattern.
I sat up slightly, looking him in the eye. "This? Right here," I sighed desperately. "Talk about everything, share everything, and then leave with nothing," My heart broke saying it aloud.
Finnick watched me with a strange bewilderment. He pushed back a curl that fell in my eyes. "I don't know what you mean Annie," He breathed, watching my own green eyes with his.
I sat upright. "Finn…come on. We both know this, us…won't work," I told him, exasperated.
That's when I recall Finnick's sad eyes the most. It was that moment that I knew Finnick had wanted me more than he had ever intended. "Why not?"
"Because I can't stand when you leave me," I explained in a small whimpering voice. I stared into the fire, watching the flames dance around as if Finnick and I were never there, as if none of this were happening.
"That's a good thing isn't it?" Finnick asked still attempting to hold me close to him.
I sank into him again. "No," I whispered, burying my face in his naked chest.
Finnick shifted and sank down to meet me, the tip of his nose level with mine. "If it's fair, I don't like leaving you," He said with a small smile, locking his hand under my jaw and hooking his fingertips around my ear.
"But you will," I told him, wrapping my hand around his as if to hold him here forever. However, my grip was never strong and things in District Four rarely ever stay secure when the tides are high.
He let his forehead touch mine with his lips dangerously close to mine. "Because I have too…" He looked me in the eyes and let his thumb stroke over my cheek, involuntarily I smiled sorrowfully, but Finnick was more serious than ever. "But I never want to," He said, but instead of moving in like I had expected him to, he pulled away from me. He sank down on the couch again and I went with him, and we were back to where we started. And although I wasn't content with our conversation, I was ok with leaving it there for now. I just wanted to be close to him. "Annie?" His voice filled the quiet room, echoing with the crackling flames.
"Yeah Finn?" I asked wrapping the towel tighter around me and letting my hand rest on his chest.
"Do you wait for me?"
I felt my heart drop slightly out of guilt. "I used to. But we were young…so then I didn't think anything of it," I let my quiet answer ring honestly.
"Of me," He answered for me, dejected. We fell silent again.
My lower lip began to quiver. It was as if I never loved him all over again. "You weren't coming home," My voice broke and I felt pathetic.
But Finnick was never condescending, his tone was never harsh, he was always good. "I'm home now," He told me, wrapping his arms tighter around me. In another round of silence he asked, "Annie, will you do me a favor?"
A few tears fell on his skin as I spoke, "Anything Finn." I felt silly for crying, but he was so good and I had essentially abandoned him. He didn't give his request right away. I looked up at him, and he smiled softly, although there was despair lingering on his lips. He wiped the tears from my face with his thumb and pushed back my hair as I rested my chin on his chest.
"Wait for me?" He asked, his voice breaking along with mine.
I wrapped both of my arms around him and put my cheek to his chest. I let my lips brush over his heart as I sank back to the space between him and the couch he had reserved for me. "Always," I told him, staring at the gold band on my right hand. We didn't talk after that; instead, I drifted off into a dreamless slumber, my subconscious broken by the shriveling hopes of my heart. I would always wait for him.