I don't own THG and a big thanks to for-prim for her mad beta skills (I'm so sorry I just said "mad skills")

"Hello Annie"

She had a confused look across her face, as though she didn't understand how anyone could possibly know her name. Her eyes landed on him and he saw her freeze, for just a second, but she quickly recovered and then puts on a businesslike demeanor, which fit her so poorly on her that Finnick wanted to laugh.

"Hello, can I help you?" Finnick really didn't want to play this game. He knew that she knew who he was. She had recognized him at the farmer's market, he just didn't know why on earth she had run away from him.

"I finished the book." Her lips curled into a smile and then fell as she tried to regain her previous expression.

"Excuse me?" She asked.

"I finished the book." She looked like she was going to say something but he interrupted, he needed to tell her. "The Awakening. I finished it. And, I just- how could it end like that?" Her face immediately softened. He took that opportunity to move closer to her. "I'm not going to lie, I was not expecting that." She looked him square in the eye and he knew that she was done pretending.

"Did it upset you?" Finnick just nodded. Of course it had upset him. Edna had drowned herself. Swam out into the ocean until she was too exhausted to continue and let the waves swallow her whole.

"Good."

Finnick was slightly alarmed at the word that had just exited her mouth. "Good? How is it good that I'm upset?"

"It means the book did its job. It did a number on me the first time I read it. It was even worse the third time."

Finnick chuckled. "How many times have you read it?"

"More than I can count." She admitted, shaking her head and moving to another row of books and reshelving some items there. He noticed her mouthing the titles to herself. He was so completely entranced by the way her mouth moved that he almost forgot what he came to ask.

"Why?" She snapped her eyes back to him, a look of bewilderment clouding her lovely features. He could see understanding crossing her face and she looked directly at him with an almost pitying expression on her face before she answered.

"She couldn't reconcile it."

She took the stack of books she'd gathered and moved behind the counter up front. He saw the thought processes going on in her head move across her face. She was an open book. He couldn't help but chuckle when he tried to imagine Annie playing poker. She lifted her eyes to him at the sound.

"She didn't know how to be an artist and a mother and wife." Finnick moves to the counter and placed his hands on it- close to where hers lay, but not too close.

"I'm just so mad at Edna. I don't think I've ever felt this way towards a fictional character." Finnick paused. "Actually I really hate Joffrey in Game of Thrones, but this is different. I was rooting for her, but she didn't care. She did it anyway."

Annie smilesdat him, and he knew that he had to go for it. "Please get coffee with me. I really want to hear your take on it, maybe just so I'll know I'm not the only one who felt cheated by Edna." He could see her hesitation. That damn open book of a face. "Please." He could see her face contort and he knew that she was about to say no.

"I really do just want to talk about the book. Do you work on Fridays?" She remained silent. "Well, on Fridays I get out early so I will be at the Laguna coffee house on Lovers at 2:00. I would really like it if you would meet me there."

She swallowed and looked at him, indecision now present among her features. It amazed him how many emotions she seemed to be able to feel in the span of a few minutes. He decided to press one last time.

"I'll probably be there for a couple hours, get some work done or read but remember if you don't show up. I know where you work." She surprises him by laughing. Now it was his turn to wear a confused look. She turned her crinkled eyes to him.

"Sorry, but that sounded really creepy and stalker-like." He laughed gently with her, glad that she hadn't completely rebuffed him.

"Well, pretend that it sounds very suave and debonair instead." He looks down to where their hands were placed on the counter. Inches from each other, but to Finnick the inches felt like miles.

"Well, I'll get out of your hair, which looks very pretty today if you don't mind me saying." He knew his eyes weren't fooling him when he saw a blush climb up her face. "But remember, 2:00 Friday at Laguna Coffee, its along the Pavilion on Lovers Lane."

"I know where it is," she said

Finnick was halfway out the door when he heard her quiet melodic voice answer him, giving him some glimmer of hope that he wouldn't be sitting at a coffee shop alone on Friday.

The next few days, Finnick tried his hardest to go about business as usual, but it proved difficult for him when all he could think about was Friday. He had tried to calm himself, as well as prepare, by rereading the book, but it did the opposite. It filled him with more questions. Questions that he hoped Annie could answer, or at least help quell some of the emotions burning inside of him.

By the time Friday morning rolled around, Finnick was a nervous wreck. What if she didn't show? She had run away from him less than a week earlier. She wasn't going to show. He knew it. But he really did just want to talk about the book with her. No funny business.

Well, maybe funny business later after he'd taken her to dinner a few times and knew more about her other than her name and workplace. Maybe the comment about her hair was too much. But it did look nice that day, long dark, dark brown falling down her back in slight waves. He wanted to run his fingers through it. He wanted to hold her hand. Their fingers intertwined together, lying on top of a table as they sat across from each other.

He had to shake the image out of his head as he got dressed for work. It was Friday, so casual it was, or at least casual for him. Finnick was never seen in sweats outside of his apartment, he found it appalling that some people couldn't even be bothered to put in effort in what they wore. As he sat on his bed to put on his shoes he smiled to himself thinking about seeing Annie last Saturday. He distinctly remembered her jeans, fitted white t-shirt and a colorful scarf loosely wrapped around her neck. It was perfect. Not like the oversized t-shirts and leggings most girls seemed to wear that just screamed "It's Saturday Morning and I didn't feel like trying" Finnick knew that appearance was everything, so he made every day count.

Work dragged on. Dragged. For a moment, Finnick was sure the clock had stopped, but he was wrong. The minute hand slid into place, so Finnick tried to imagine what Annie would wear later that day. If she showed up of course. Finnick slapped himself. She would show up. She had to. She had to.

At 2:00 Finnick found himself pulling open the door to the coffee shop and throwing a dazzling smile at the employee. The shop was small and rarely full, which was why he liked it so much. He walked to the counter and put in his order for a coffee and settled in at a table where he could see out the shop window to keep a lookout for Annie. He sipped his coffee and flipped through the newspaper he brought with him, but his eyes kept going to the door, hoping that any minute Annie would walk through it.

Minutes passed. And then an hour. Finnick never stopped checking the door, however. Then at a quarter to four, Finnick recognized the figure standing outside warily looking at the coffee shop's sign.

If he were guessing, he would say she had just come from work as she was wearing a simple dress with a cardigan and flats. Much like what she had been wearing the past two times he was in the bookstore. He thought she looked absolutely lovely. He was searching her just as enthusiastically as she seemed to be searching the sign. As though it would tell her what to do. Her eyes then met his through the glass and Finnick smiled as she blushed, having been caught. He waved at her to come in. She did and he let out a breath he didn't realize he had been holding when she finally stepped through the doorway.

"Please, let me buy you a cup a coffee." Finnick stood and walked to the counter and she joined him, perusing the menu on the wall. She had the front pieces of her hair clipped back again, and Finnick thought that he liked this look the best, because he could see her whole face.

"Could I please have a small peppermint tea." Annie asked. The barista nodded at her.

"Thank you." She reached into her purse, but Finnick immediately waved his debit card.

"No, I've got it. I did ask you here after all." She looked up at him. He realized with her standing right next to him that she was about 5'7 or 5'8. Of course, he stood at 6'1 so he was still a good few inches taller than her, but she wasn't petite. Finnick liked that, he thought to himself.

"Thank you, then." Annie said. The barista handed her the steaming cup and shot Finnick a smile before he led her to the table where he'd been sitting.

"Do you need any sugar?" he asked her.

"No, thank you." He smiled at her politeness. They sat down and a silence fell around them. She looked at him expectantly.

"I'm still so mad at Edna. " She laughed at this admission and nodded at him.

"I know what you mean. Sometimes… sometimes I think I get it. I understand. She made her decision. She was going to be an artist and was going to be with Robert finally, but then that fell through and she must have felt so lost. And then seeing Adele, who was everything that she was supposed to be, this ideal mother and wife, I think she realized that she could never go back to that life." She paused for a moment, and sadness filled her face before she took the lid off of her tea and gently blew on it.

"So instead of being mad at Edna, I should be mad at Robert for leaving and Adele for being perfect?" She laughed at him.

"Don't get a hold of the wrong end of the knife now. Did they unknowingly play a part in her suicide, yes, but obviously they can't be held responsible."

They talked and talked and soon Annie's cup was empty and people had filtered in and out of the shop. Finnick knew their time together was coming to a close, but he needed to know something.

"May I ask you a question? There's something that's been bothering me."

"About the book?" Her face clouded with worry.

"No." He turned his eyes directly onto hers. "About the farmer's market. Why did you run away from me?" Her eyes dropped to table and then they were back on his and he saw panic streaking through them

"I'm sorry! I just just- I saw you and then I saw that you were reading the book and it made me think that you remembered me." Now it was his turn to be confused.

"Well, of course I remembered you."

"I know and I didn't want that. I want to be invisible. I don't want people to notice me. That day in the bookstore you did just that. You kept talking to me, but then afterwards I told myself that you wouldn't come back because I mean, look at you. Why would you want to talk to me" She blushed again.

"But you did and still do apparently." She shook her head and looked away from him. Finnick's confusion wasn't lessened by this admission. The curiosity was only stoked further. How could someone as lovely as she was not want people to pay attention to her?

"I'm not sure I understand," Finnick said. She glared at this.

"You don't have to understand it, you just have to accept it. I don't like it when people pay me extra attention. I mean, I once went to a Chipotle twice in one week and the same guy was working the counter. The second time I was there he goes, 'chicken right?' and I knew I couldn't go back. Or at least not for a long time. I don't want to be a 'regular' anywhere, I just want to go about my business without anyone taking notice of me."

"Do you have any regulars at the bookstore?" He couldn't help but ask.

"Besides you?" she smiled at him and he returned it, glad that she didn't seem angry with him.

"Not really. It's just an old bookstore, not a bookstore-slash-coffee shop. People come in, usually buy something and then leave. Maybe they come back, but I never remember them."

"But you did remember me." Finnick smirked at her as her blush deepened. She nodded.

"It would be hard to forget you." She said this so quietly he had to strain to hear it.

"Well, I hate to break it to you, but I don't think I'm going to be able to forget you either." He smiled at her as he said it. He saw her hand lying palm down on the table. He made up his mind. He was going to go for it. He laid his hand over hers gently. He hand was soft and warm. He checked her face for a reaction. She was staring at their hands. She slowly slid her hand out from under his and he felt his heart drop. She refused to meet his eyes.

"I should probably go. Thank you for the tea and the conversation." She stood up and he stood with her.

"Please, let me walk you out." Finnick insisted

"Thank you," she replied, her voice laced with stoicism

They walked in an awkward silence to her car and when they reached it Annie turned to him with a determination he hadn't seen in her yet.

"Are you going to come back to the bookstore?" she asked, bravely meeting his eyes. Finnick swallowed, afraid of what was going to come next.

"If you want me to." He held her gaze as he saw the thoughts running across her face.

"I do. I think." Annie admitted, moreso to herself, it seemed, than him. Finnick lightly chuckled, she was so enchanting.

"Well, I hope you keep thinking that. I'll see you Tuesday then. He walked away and tried his hardest to only glance back once. He felt extremely satisfied though when he saw she was looking back at him.