"Any idea what you're planning to do for the Gamemakers?" Finnick asks me at breakfast. It's the morning of our private session. My stomach is so queasy that I cannot eat anything.
I stir my hot chocolate absently while Davis wolfs down food beside me. It's like he's never had a meal in his life. "Throw sugar cubes?" I suggest halfheartedly, noticing that Finnick was eating them again. He chuckles, causing my stomach to twist—and it has nothing to do with nerves. I hate the sensation.
Mags is discussing the same topic with Davis, but he just nods every once in a while. He's too focused on eating to think about anything else.
"I'm serious, Annie," Finnick says with a sigh of exasperation. "If you want to leave an impression on the judges, you've got to do something other than throw sugar cubes."
"I know that," I snap, "I was only trying to lighten the mood. It didn't seem to help, though."
Finnick pushes back his chair and strolls to my side of the table. "I didn't know that you can have a sense of humor, Cresta."
I shoot him an annoyed glare. "Was it that hard to accept?"
He smashes a fist into his other hand. "I know just what you need!"
"And what do I need?" I ask suspiciously. Knowing Finnick, he'll probably suggest something ridiculous, like a romantic stroll on a beach or a bath together with him. Finnick gives me an evil grin and practically sit down in my lap.
"A good breakfast is what you need!" He declares, then takes my fork and tries to feed me the untouched bacon in my plate. "Say 'Ah!'," he instructs me cheerfully. By now, everyone else has stopped eating, and they were all watching us curiously. I swear Davis winked at Finnick.
My cheeks burned.
What's with Finnick's change in mood? Was he trying to light up the atmosphere now?
"Go away, you pervert!" I scream, trying to slap him (unsuccessfully), "I don't need you to feed me! I can manage on my own!"
"Oh, really? Then why haven't you touched your food yet?" Finnick returns.
I open my mouth to protest, but he immediately jabs the food into my mouth.
"That's it," he praises me as I force myself to swallow the mouthful. "You need all your strength if you want a chance in the Games. And, as they say, breakfast is the most important meal of the day!"
As soon as my mouth is empty again, I whirl around to face him. I was planning to yell at him, but our proximity causes me to freeze. Finnick stares at me, and I stare back at him. My heart thuds painfully fast in my chest.
His face is only inches away from mine.
Just a little further, a small voice coaxes in my head, as if urging me to close the gap.
I push the temptation away. I'm not one of his silly fangirls. Besides, even if I don't hate him anymore, I don't like him, either. At least, that's what I keep telling myself as I jerk my head away, but I almost feel...empty. No, perhaps disappointed is a better word.
Why? Did I want to...kiss him? Surely not!
Silence.
It's not like Finnick to remain silent. He's looking at me in wonder, as if he had just realized something. I feel uneasy under his gaze.
"Thanks for being worried about me, but I'm fine, really," I choke out, then I excuse myself from the table. I hesitate at the door, and call back to him, "And it's obvious that I'm going to be tying ropes for the Gamemakers, isn't it?"
What's the matter with me? Why is Finnick making me feel like this? Thoughts whirl in my head as I head back to my room, hoping that a cold shower will clear my mind. If only there was a swimming pool in the arena...
"Oi, Cresta!"
For a wild moment, I'm afraid that Finnick has come after me, until I realize that it's only Davis. "Don't scare me like that," I mutter, leaning against the wall for support.
He pauses beside me and hastily wipes his mouth with a napkin. "Sorry," he apologizes sheepishly. "There's only a few days before the Games, you know," he goes on, "So I suggest you make use of the time you still have."
"I don't need you to remind me," I respond coolly. "What are you implying, anyway?"
"Just that...my brother has never been in a serious relationship before. I've always wondered why," he ventures.
"What does that have to do with anything?" I ask, but I have a feeling I know what he's trying to say.
He smirks at me in Finnick fashion. "You two reminded me of a married couple just now, that's all."
"Hey!" I object. My cheeks felt warm.
"It's just...I don't know how to put it," he shifts nervously from side to side.
"First of all, stop saying 'just'," I advise him, trying to lighten things up.
He looks at me. "Of course," he says. "I've noticed that Finnick is more like himself around you," he comments. "He usually only acts that way around our family. But...with you, it's different."
He pauses.
"And...?" I prompt.
"If you ask me, I'd say that he's in love with you," Davis finishes.
My mouth drop open. It was impossible that someone, especially someone younger than me, and especially Finnick Odair's own brother, would say that to me! "That's not it!" I argue, "We've only known each other for a few days! He's got the wo—Games to worry about!" I amend hastily. I had almost said 'the women'. "Why are you telling me this, anyway? We all know there's no chance that I'll survive."
Davis shakes his head. "You have a chance," he says seriously. "Your sister risked her own life asking Finnick to help you win. You've got to respect her wishes."
"That's...not going to happen," I say. "I'm weak. I don't stand a chance against the other Careers."
"You do have a chance," Davis murmurs. "You'll have a chance if I become your ally."
I stare at him. "Don't give me false hope, Davis," I warn. "You're planning on joining the Careers, right? There's no way you'll be my ally. I'm just a pathetic, weak girl from a Career district. I'm a shame to the rest of our district."
"You're not weak, and you're definitely not pathetic," he says. "Who said anything about me joining the Careers, anyway? You'll need more than just Monika to win. It'll be more than possible if you've got me, too. In fact, I know that you can win with me as your ally. What about your mother? She needs you. You can't give up, Annie!"
Ellie...Mother...
Davis is right. I do need to win. I don't know if my mother could handle it if another of her children were lost in the Games. If I had Davis as an ally...But I didn't want to get my hopes up.
Then I remember Finnick's pain and how he was forced into prostitution, and it was because he had won his Games. Perhaps, for Davis, death would be a better option than spending time with strange women.
"Alright," I agree finally, reluctantly. "So...allies?"
"Allies," Davis echoes, and shakes my hand. He straightens up and offers me a cheerful smile. "Well, I'm gonna go back and finish that cake," he says, as if our previous conversation hasn't happened at all.
"Davis!" I call after him. He stops. I only need to ask "Why?" for him to understand.
He shrugs. "Don't get me wrong," he says darkly. "It's not for you. It's for my brother. If I win...I don't think he'll ever see me in the way he used to."
Then he's gone, leaving me alone. I sink to my knees.
For a moment, Davis spoke as if he had all the wisdom in the world, and not the thoughts of a fourteen-year-old boy.
If I hadn't come along, I would never have caused so much pain for the two brothers.
I'm sorry...Davis...Finnick. Forgive me.
Disclaimer: The Hunger Games belongs to the amazing Suzanne Collins.
Gah...I'm really sorry for not updating! *I don't give up on a story unless I say so*. -shot- anyway, here's another chapter!
Special thanks to alicewillbealice1066379 for being the 100th reviewer! Of course, reviews help me update faster.