I'm an updating fiend lately, and hopefully i can keep up this pace and continue with this story. Thanks for the review i received! love feedback, corrections and criticism. Anywho, enjoy and review if you so desire!

Song for this chapter: water and wine by: Aleah

Disclaimer: This ain't ma stuffffff.

Finnicks POV

I woke up to a dull thud penetrating my sleep; the sound of a fist on the door across from my bed pulling me from my dark dreams of glassy eyed children with fangs for teeth and daggers for hands.

"..coming!" I stuttered, ripping back the covers and quickly realizing that I was still naked. I snatched a towel off of the pile of white linens placed at the foot of my bed, and wrapped it around my waist.

"Yes?" I asked, as I swung open the door, rubbing at my eyes as the hallway light spilled into my dark room.

Mags chuckled.

"Put on some clothe Odair, I expect you at breakfast in 15 minutes." She sniffed indignantly.

"And maybe take a shower while you're at it."

I blushed a light pink, and nodded in compliance before she walked away, slightly favoring her right leg. I slipped the towel back off again and threw it onto my bad while I stretched my cramped muscles, working out the stiffness of my nightmares in the perfumed air of the train.

….clothes?

I looked around in circles until I placed a large chest of drawers standing silently in the corner of my room. The first drawer held every kind of undergarment you could ever imagine, all the color of coal. I examined the pair I had pulled out, unused to such luxuries. The second drawer contained what I thought were girls shirts…tiny tiny girl shirts. In all the fabric was no wider then my thigh; I looked at it in wonder.

How in the hell am I supposed to fit into this?

I stretched it this way and that, realizing the black material didn't seem to have a breaking point, or a point where it couldn't continue to grow. I guess this was all I had to work with… The last drawer kept numerous pairs of black cargos pants, all my size, all the same and without thinking a snatched a pair up and took all of my new clothing to the washroom in preparation.

Fluorescent lights sprang to life as I flicked the switch to reveal the largest bathroom I had ever seen in my life. Marble counter tops spread on for feet of uninterrupted smoothness, a steal sink and glass shower the only objects that stopped its reign. I threw my clothes onto the counter, turning the hot water knob in the shower, and stepping into the steaming oasis. Dangerous thoughts began to fill my mind as I processed what my day of training would look like. This would be the day that I met all of the other tributes, the day that I would have to learn what my special skill would be. So many things bombarded my mind that I switched the water to an icy cold temperature and focused on the searing pain that shot through my limbs as my body heat was snatched from my skin.

Shivering, I stepped out from the shower, and five minutes later I was in the clothes I had picked and was out the door and walking towards the same dining table that I had eaten at the night before.

The shirt I wore looked as though it had been painted on, and it showed off my muscled upper body nicely. I silently thanked my physically intense upbringing, flexing my abs with a smirk as the six pairs become satisfyingly pronounced.

"Someone is a little confident" Scoffed Amalia as she stepped beside me in a similar outfit. I blinked rapidly, realizing her top was nearly as tight as mine.

"Don't stare too long, I might take it personally," she sneered, and rounded the corner to the dining room. I frowned and followed her in, disapproving of her hate for me and feeling a raw anger grow in the pit of my stomach.

"Bout time kids, don't wanna be late on your first day," Henry grumbled as we took our seats.

"Alright, goals for today, lets go over them shall we?" Mags suggested lightly. I looked at her expectedly and snatched a warm bun from the plate in front of me, munching quietly.

"I want you to go to every station. Now I know that both of you won't be able to do everything, hell you're certainly not careers," I grimaced at the insult "but it's worth a try to see if maybe you have some sort of hidden skill not even you are aware of."

Both Amalia and I nodded at Mags.

"If you find a skill that you can bank on, don't show it off. Keep it hidden until scoring day, we don't need to tip off any of the other tributes about what you can do."

I nodded finishing my bun, and grabbing another one.

"Good. Now that that's settled, eat up, you're going to need your strength for today."

Annies POV

Sun light trickled in to my room, it had to be midday, but I hadn't left the safety of my covers since I had woken very early in the morning. My mother had come by for a while; sat with me and stroked my hair like any good mother would, but after realizing I was unresponsive had given up and left me to my devices.

I didn't cry, or scream or talk about how unfair life was because I know that that wasn't what Finnick would have wanted me to do. I played with the long fur on my childhood teddy bear, remembering how Finnick had teased me for weeks on still having it when I was eleven. I knew what he would be doing today; he would be training, training to kill whomever he encountered in the arena. I hated thinking about that, thinking how the capitol people were going to turn my sweet, soft-hearted best friend into a killing machine for their enjoyment.

"Annie honey!" My mother called from the bottom of the stairs, "lunch is ready!". My stomach growled angrily as I remembered that I had skipped breakfast in preference for my solitude. Grudgingly I swept the sheets aside, scrunching my eyes as tiny stars appeared in my vision from standing too fast.

The stairs disappeared behind me as I took a seat at the small modest table my father had carved from wood he had chopped himself, the smooth surface cool beneath my sweaty palms.

I looked up at my mother blankly, appreciative that she didn't try to make me talk about it. She placed a steaming bowl of fish stew in front of me and I began to immediately pick at it, finding the smallest pieces and consuming them like a bird.

"Honey, you can't starve yourself over this. You're small enough as is," my mother encouraged. I didn't respond and continued my tedious eating. I was tired of people assuming my weakness from my lack of size. Yes I was small, yes I would probably benefit form a hardy bowl of stew, but I certainly wouldn't die without it.

"I think I'm going to go for a swim." I muttered, pushing away my bowl and speeding through the door and into the dirt road that led to the beach. The air felt good against my skin, and I twirled a little as my feet met the sinking sand of the beach and its warm pooled around my ankles. Not bothering to strip off my dress and swim in my underclothes, I sprinted for the dock and barreled into the air, gracefully diving into the calm salty waters that I had grown up in.

The icy chill swallowed me whole as I sunk deeper and deeper, only turning to face the surface when my lungs burned from emptiness and I was forced to break through the waves and suck in a breath. A pang of loneliness swept through me as I felt the absence of the body that usually accompanied me into the water, the same body I probably would have pushed off the dock before hand. Diving under the water, I desperately pushed the thoughts from my mind and swam towards the shore, feeling the water become warmer as it became shallower.

The beach was silent and empty, symbolic to me as I stretched out in the sand. For some reason I believed in that moment that it wouldn't be like this forever, that somehow, someway my best friend would find his way home. But what I wanted, and what actually happened was usually opposite.

Who knows, I thought.

Maybe this time it will be different.