My Shadow: Keane.
The train ride, although different and surreal, was cold and haunting. Dinner was exquisite but I didn't feel like eating. The servants on the train made me uneasy and the whole atmosphere of crammed space and constant moving made me a little nauseous. Mags spent most of the time teaching us typical Hunger Game itineraries once we reached the Capitol, she and our official Ursula, a tall woman with sleek teal hair that curled in one perfect coil at the tip, taught us most everything they thought we needed to know, such as how to act, how to dine, how to present ourselves. Thomas seemed intrigued but otherwise didn't speak much other than to ask questions about training. I kept quiet, glancing over at Finnick. We hadn't spoken to each other since our emotional departure from earlier. When night approached, I wearily walked towards my compartment on the train. Once stripping from the outfit I had dawned for reaping, I pulled on silk pajamas the train attendants set aside and slipped into the sheets of my bed that had been pulled back for me. As I was slowly dozing off, a quiet knock at my door woke me. I opened the door to reveal a startled looking Finnick.
"Finn, are you ok?" I asked quietly. He held a flashlight that shone only a little ray of light on his face. His angular jaw was clenched in a nervous manner.
"Yeah," He said in a strained whisper. He cleared his throat and pushed his hair back. "Yeah I'm fine. Are you ok?" He asked letting his eyebrows raise and then furrow a little. His free hand fidgeted a little, pulling at the hem of his shirt as if looking for something to do.
"I guess," I said quietly. I didn't know if anyone else on the train could hear us, or if they'd condone a secret trainer/trainee rendezvous in the middle of the night.
He stood in the doorway, with what I knew was an attempt at the suave Finnick I used to know. He leaned nonchalantly against the frame and then shifted his weight in a sudden sense of discomfort. "I just wanted to make sure you were… fine?" He said, offering me a weak smile. "It's been kind of a long day for all of us, I guess."
I opened the door all the way, pushing my own long hair back. "Um, yeah. I suppose," I replied softly. Just a few hours ago I was back home in District Four and Finnick was miles away from me. Now, I was on my way to the Capitol to fight for my life and most likely die fighting for nothing. I was assigned to a path where they fight and lose, but not just important things like necessities and loved ones, but life itself. Fear leapt inside me like a wild fire, licking up the walls of my chest and scorching my heart. "Finnick?" I asked quietly as he began to walk away.
He stopped turning back towards me, "Yes Annie?" His curious tone took me back to the night before he left for his own Hunger Games.
"I'm nervous," I whispered.
He watched me with a sympathetic gaze, "Me too Annie, me too." He said dejectedly. It scared me, the way he looked at me. It was as if I would die at any second. He watched me and then came back to the threshold of the door.
I reached for his hand and let my fingers curl around his. Finnick's hands were calloused and rough, but I adored them. I pulled him closer to me, letting his warmth comfort me. The night was cold and I had missed his calming touch. "Will you stay here?"
Finnick smiled a genuine smile…something I hadn't enjoyed in a long time. "I was hoping you'd ask," He walked with me in the little compartment and shut the door behind him.
I pulled him in and hugged him. He held me tighter and I noticed a new smell to his original scent, it wasn't just the crisp ocean or the rich cologne anymore…but a sweet, soft lingering aroma.
"What is that?" I asked, sniffing his collar, with a quiet laugh.
Finnick looked confused and frowned, but then seemed to regain his memory, "Sugar cubes…I get them every time I go to the Capitol. Here, try one," He offered, taking one from his pocket and holding it out to me. I shook my head burying my face in his chest.
"I've had enough new today," I sighed.
He laughed a hollow but still charming laugh, pulling me into him. "Come here." We took to the bed, settling. He smiled as I started to settle in the space between his left arm and his chest, the space forever reserved for me. Although he seemed happy, his thoughts seemed to be unsettled. He shifted as if he were on edge.
I looked at him, uncomfortable that he was still in his dress clothes, showing his mentor status, "It's ok that we're doing this?" The situation made me a little uneasy. Finnick noticed so he sat up and began to take off his collared shirt and vest.
He sank back down beside me and invited me back into my original nook. "I'm sure we'd find Mags and Thomas cuddled up in the next compartment." He chuckled. I missed his jokes. I rested on his chest, listening to his heartbeat and drawing little invisible designs on his white t-shirt.
"I'm sorry Finnick," I said quietly.
Finnick laughed again, "Why? He's always liked older women."
I smiled, giggling too. I ached for this side of Finnick. I hadn't heard him genuinely joke in what seemed like years. "Ha, no not for Thomas," I said giggling, but I grew serious quickly, "For leaving you."
He grew quiet too. "I don't want to talk about that tonight," He told me, running his fingers through my hair. "It'll all make sense when we get there."