"The best feeling in the world is knowing you mean something to someone, knowing someone wants and needs you."

Finniss

I hear the argument just outside my door, it's one I've heard almost every night from many families. Then I see my door crack open, light from the hall pooling in as my foster parents enter the dark room.

Rose, my foster mother, has no emotion in her eyes. As always. And Jeff, well he looks the smallest bit sympathetic as Rose tells me what I already know.

I'm being kicked out, they don't want me anymore. I'm not surprised really, but this is the shortest time I've ever spent with a foster family. Setting the record at only four days.

Rose already called Haymitch, my social worker. He's coming in the morning to take me back to the foster center until I can find another family. When I do, it will be the eleventh this year. And then when they decide to dump me, I'll just go right back into this never ending cycle.

This is a common tale for me. I've been in foster care since I was only eleven for reasons I don't want to tell. The memories are just too painful to relive again. I relive them often enough when I close my eyes and they invade my dreams. No family has ever cared about me, the longest I've stayed in a foster home was four months. Even then the family made no attempt at getting to know me. They didn't try to understand why I always locked myself in my room, or why I rarely talked, or even why I woke up screaming in the dead of the night.

That was my first foster family. Everything has only gone downhill from there. I don't really want to be adopted though, I don't want any other family to replace the one that was torn away from me. Ripped out of my hands just to be placed into those of God.

I don't sleep at all tonight, instead I quietly listen to my music on the IPod shuffle Haymitch bought a few years back, my fourteenth birthday to be exact. That was two years ago. Since then I've been to at least twenty five different families, all ending up the same way; they all end up dumping me.

I wait patiently for Haymitch to take me back to the only place I feel somewhat comfortable- the foster care center where I've spent the majority of my time over the past five years. There are a few other kids that live there as well, but they are all young. Around the ages of 10 and 11, the ones who people fight to adopt.

Before I know it I'm back in the car with Haymitch, my backpack filled with my limited belongings. Including my dad's old guitar, the only thing I have left of the only family I'll ever truly belong to.

"I'm sorry, I honestly thought this was the family." He says as we drive away from just another place I could have called home.

I shake my head, "You always say that."

"I know, but one of these days I'm going to be right." He states confidently.

I snort, "Maybe, but none of these families really care about me. None of them actually want me. After all, who the hell wants a sixteen year old teenage girl with minor depression?"

He sighs deeply, "Someone will, we just have to find them."

I hope he's right, but part of me knows he's wrong. I don't think I'll ever find a family I'm compatible with, there's only one family for me and they are gone.

But you know, I actually like being alone. It gives me time to think, maybe too much time, but time nonetheless. It gives me time to listen to new music, to practice my father's old guitar... Gives me time to be at peace with the world, where I don't have to worry about when I'll be kicked out.

I only ever feel at peace when I'm playing that guitar, when I'm making the melodic rhythms he used to play and even a few of my own. Though I never play when I go to a new home, it... It just doesn't feel right to be playing his guitar in the home of another.

xxx

I end up staying at the foster center for another two months, giving me plenty of time to write new songs and work on my old ones.

I'm strumming the guitar randomly when Haymitch enters my room, a solemn look on his aging face.

"Katniss... Look, I know you hate all these families I've been sending you to."

I nod, waiting for him to continue.

"And... I won't be doing that anymore." He states, perking my interest. He seems saddened as he tells me. "There's a house, about four hours from here, that takes the kids who don't get adopted. It's boys and girls, and 7 other teenagers live there. Most move out at eighteen and most who aren't quite eighteen have jobs. If you want to go there, I can make that arrangement." He says, sitting down on my bed.

Haymitch happens to be the only person I'm somewhat close to, he's the only one who actually knows what happened to my family. It's not like we talk about my feelings or anything like that, but... He's tried to find me a better life many a time. He's never given up on me.

I ponder over what he says, and I must say it sparked my interest.

"How come I've never heard of this before now?" I ask skeptically.

"Because I really thought I could find you a decent home, no... Not a decent home. The perfect home. Now, not so much. I've been to almost everyone around here looking to adopt. And sweetheart, no ones interested. I'm sorry."

I don't cry at his words, nor do I yell at the top of my lungs in anger and frustration. Much to his dismay and my own, I smile. I don't feel remorse or depression seeping into the depths of my soul, I only feel joy and relief.

"So... I can go to a permanent place? No more going into foster homes?" I clarify.

Haymitch nods.

"So you want to go?" He asks slowly.

"More than anything."

Finally I will be done with all this moving back and forth. The home hopping, the family switching, the bed jumping. I'll stay in one place, and better yet I won't have anyone try to replace the family I'll never truly leave.

xxx

Within two weeks I'm packing up the little belongings I own and I'm on the road with Haymitch. It's a bittersweet trip, I'm more than happy that I am finally leaving the foster system, but leaving the system means leaving Haymitch. He's the only constant I've had in the past five years. While everything around me has been changing, he's always stayed the same.

He's somewhat like family, the only person to even come close to that word since I was thrown into the world of foster care. And leaving him will be hard, in a way I guess you could say I love him. Like an uncle or like a close family friend.

"This is what you want, right?" He asks.

I turn my head to face him and see him staring intently at the road.

"I don't feel like entering a home just to be kicked out the exit little time later anymore, so yes. This is what I want." I say, and when I do I see his eyes soften.

"I'm sorry your life has been the way it has, Katniss." He mumbles, looking at me as he says it before his eyes focus back on the long black road ahead of us that stretches for miles upon miles. The road taking me to my new, permanent home. "I wish I could have found you the perfect home, I really do."

I smile slightly, "Thank you, and I want to thank you for trying to find me a family, I know it's been tough. Hell, when I first met you, you didn't have a gray hair on you. And now, well I don't think you have a blonde hair on you. I can only imagine the stress I've been putting you under."

He chuckles, "Don't mention it."

The rest of the ride is quiet, and once I arrive we barely say goodbye. All I do is hug him, because I'm going to miss the old fool.

I'm not one for affectionate gestures and neither is he, so the hug is awkward and strange. Once we pull apart he gets back into his car and drives off, and I think he even had a few tears welling up in his tired eyes.

With my small suitcase of belongings, I make my way into my new home. I'm immediately face to face with a women who seems to be in her late thirties or early forties. She has more make up than I've ever seen on anyone, and her eyes shine with joy.

"You must be Katniss! It's so nice to meet you, I'm Effie, I run this household, just set your stuff down right here and come into the living room to meet everyone else." She doesn't even give me time to say hello before she's dragging me into the living room. I manage to carefully set my guitar case down, but I have to practically throw my suitcase on the floor as I'm whisked away.

Once I enter, I'm met with the faces of three boys and three girls. They are all chatting amongst themselves, but when Effie and I enter their heads turn to me and they go silent.

"Oh good we are all her- wait. Where in the world is Johanna?" Effie asks with a stressed sigh.

"Right behind you," a voice says behind us, causing the two of us to turn around to be facing who I assume is Johanna.

She goes and sits down, smirking at me.

"Everyone, this is Katniss. She will be staying with us." Effie introduces me.

I give an awkward wave as they each mumble a hello.

"Now, I would like for each of you to say your name and something about you so that Katniss can get to know you." Effie says, telling me to take a seat across from them all.

"Thresh, darling, let's start with you." She says, gingerly sitting next to me and crossing her legs in a ladylike manner.

I turn to the large dark skinned boy sitting across the room.

"I'm Thresh, and I've been here for six months. Something about me? I'm seventeen and I like to box." He says, his voice deeper than any voice I've heard before.

Then the girl next to him goes, she has dark hair and freckles covering her face. She seems no older than 15...

"I'm Clove, 15, been here for three months, and I like to throw knives. Which is why no family wanted me." She mutters, sinking back into the couch.

"I'm Glimmer, I'm seventeen and I'll be eighteen in only two months. I've been here for a year and I absolutely love shopping!" A bouncy blonde girl says.

"I'm Marvel, sixteen, been here for two years... And I like to read." A brown hair green eyes boy says, giving me a smile.

"I'm Delly, sixteen as well, been here since I was only thirteen, and I like to read as well." A quiet girl says next to Marvel, she seems shy as well. Keeping her eyes locked on her hands as she spoke.

"I'm Johanna, I'm seventeen and I've been here for about two years. Something about me? I don't really think you give a shit." The girl who came in late said, still smirking at me. "Oh, and welcome to hell."

"You mean I'm just now arriving?" I mumble, but apparently they heard because Johanna begins to laugh like a maniac.

"She's funny, let's keep her." She says.

I turn my head to the last boy in the room, and when I do my eyes meet a pair of sea green orbs that are staring straight at me. The whole time I've been here he's been scowling, not necessarily at me, but in general.

"I'm Finnick. Sixteen, and I've been here only a month. There's nothing about me worth saying." He says quietly, his eyes leaving mine only once he finishes.

"Okay, now Katniss it's your turn." Effie says, clapping her peppy hands and turning to me.

I cringe, I don't like being the center of attention.

"Uh... I'm Katniss, in case you haven't heard Effie, I'm sixteen and I've been here for... Ten minutes. Something about me? I don't know, I play the guitar sometimes." I say, not looking at any of their faces.

I hear a few of them laugh, and I look up to see them smiling at me. I even see Finnick's lips quirk up in the slightest. After that everyone is excused to go do whatever they like, and I'm shown to my room. I'm sharing one with Johanna, luckily she seems to like me.

I set my stuff on my bed and unpack what I have. Taking out four shirts, two pairs of pants, two pairs of socks, and only three pairs of underwear. Johanna gives me the dresser, since she uses the closet, and I put everything away. I set my guitar case down in the corner where my bed is and I take out my song book.

"Dinner is almost ready by the way, so come on down." She says, and I follow her down the steps. "Here we take turns making dinner, last night was Marvel and Glimmer, tonight it's you and me."

I nod and we enter the dining room where everyone is already ready. I take my seat next to Johanna and Effie makes us say grace. Something my family used to do.

All throughout dinner I felt a pair of eyes on me, sending warmth throughout my body. But every time I looked up to see who they belonged to, the feeling vanished. I would look at everyone to see that none of their eyes were focused on me, but on their meal. Once dinner ended, I helped clean up with Johanna. She sure could talk, I bet she could talk paint off a wall. I stayed quiet most of the time.

When we finish I go back upstairs into our room, she stays downstairs to watch TV. I sit on my bed with my songbook and pencil, but I feel too... Stuffed. This room is definitely not made for two people and with the two beds in here, it feels too tight.

I look around the enclosed space and my eyes land on a cracked open window. I walk up to it with my songbook in hand and look out to see that it leads to the roof facing the backyard. The backyard consists of open land, an open field that eventually leads to a forest.

I can't help but smile; this is perfect.

I open the window all the way and take out the screen before making my way onto the roof. I get situated and open my song book back up as I soak in the tranquility of it out here. Then I hear a cough to my left that scares me half to death and nearly makes me drop my book

I whip my head to my side to see none other than Finnick sitting about five feet away.

He's looking at me with his eyes slightly narrowed, I can't tell if it's in anger or wonder.

"What are you doing out here?" He finally asks me, his voice guarded like his eyes.

I shrug and look down at my beaten book, "it was stuffy in my room, so I decided to come out here." I mumble, slightly embarrassed.

"No one else comes out here but me," he doesn't say it as a way of defending what's his. No, he says it more as a statement.

I look back at him, "Well, not anymore."

His lips quirk up in the slightest. "I guess not."

"So, do any of the other rooms lead to this part of the roof?" I ask, looking out at the field.

"No, just mine and Johanna's. Which is yours too now, I guess. She never comes out here though, I don't even think anyone knows I come out here." He says, and I turn to look at him to see he's looking at the meadow in front of us.

I nod even though he can't see me. He doesn't say anything else and I got my question answered, so I go back to my song book and mess around with one of my first songs. I change around some notes and fiddle with the lyrics.

"What are you doing?" Finnick asks after a short while.

"Nothing," I mutter, I haven't let anyone seen this book before and I don't plan an it any time soon.

That conversation dies pretty quickly, but I can't help it. I'm not trying to be rude, I just truly don't know how to carry out a conversation with anyone. I've never had anyone to talk to, really.

I go back to my book, but I find that I want to keep talking to Finnick.

"Why do you come out here?" I ask quietly, turning to look at him. He looks over at me and shrugs.

"To get away I guess, I don't know really. I just... do."

"Oh." I say, ready to let yet another conversation whither away.

"Maybe it's to get away from the obnoxiously loud and nasally voice of Effie," he suggests, causing me to let out a small laugh. First laugh I've had in who knows how long.

"That seems reasonable," I comment, and see that he's smiling slightly. I must say he looks good with a smile.

For the next few weeks that becomes my routine. I hang out downstairs with the others but rarely join their conversations. I usually just listen like Finnick. Then once dinner ends I go upstairs, grab my songbook and a pencil, and go out onto the roof. Every day I see Finnick out here as well. And every day we make small talk, we become friends. Today when I come outside he's sitting there waiting, and he smiles as I step out onto the roof.

I start to write in my songbook as always and he begins a conversation.

"You always have that thing when we come out here, what is it?" He asks, looking at me and then the book.

I shrug, "It's nothing."

"Bullshit." He says, next thing I know he's sitting right next to me and is trying to read my book.

I quickly close it and he grumbles.

"I think it's more than nothing," he says.

I look at him and see that he's sitting only a few inches away.

"I think it's none of your business," I retort.

He lets out a puff of air and looks ahead to the open field.

"Is it an art book?" He asks.

I snort, "No, I can't draw worth a shit."

He chuckles, "Okay, so not an artist... Is it a novel you're writing?"

I shake my head.

"Hmm, so you aren't an author..." He says, and then narrows his eyes in thought. "A diary?"

"Hell no."

He smiles, "I didn't think so... Let me see here." He says then purses his lips while the gears in his head slowly turn. "Ah ha! When you first came you said you played the guitar. To play the guitar you need to know songs, it's a songbook!"

I snap my head to look at him. "How the hell-"

He chuckles, "I guessed right, now I get to read it."

I arch an eyebrow, "Says who?"

He grins, "Says me."

I roll my eyes, "No, it isn't something I share with people."

He slumps forward, "Alright fine. But will you show it to me someday?"

I look down at my feet, "Maybe, but don't bet on it."

I feel his eyes on me, but I don't look at him. I keep my eyes on the meadow ahead, letting the silence stay.

Then I feel a soft hand tracing my hairline, causing me to gasp.

I look at Finnick to see him staring intently at my forehead.

"You have a scar... How did you get it?" He asks quietly, running his thumb over it gently, sending shivers up my spine, before letting his hand fall back to his side.

I look away in surprise, no one has ever bothered to ask me about the scar. I know it's visible, it's not small.

"Car crash," I say, leaving it at that.

"Oh... I'm sorry." He says. I nod, but I don't say anymore. Even saying what had happened results in the flashbacks flooding my mind, like a tsunami of painful memories. Hitting me one scene after the other.

"Can I ask you a question?" He asks after a few moments of absolute silence.

"You just did." I say, trying to joke to lighten the damp mood. I succeed, somewhat, and his lips lift slightly.

"I'll take that as a yes." He says, causing us both to chuckle lightly. "Why were you put into the foster care system?"

My eyebrows knit together and I bite my lip, this is the first time I've ever been asked this question. And somehow I know that Finnick knows the car crash is a big factor...

I look at him and see only curiosity in his sea green eyes, no red flags. So I tell him; instead of keeping my flashbacks in, I narrate what I'm seeing behind my eyes.

"The car crash..." I begin the horrific story that awakens me night after night, as I tell it I close my eyes so the scene is more vivid. So that I can explain it more thoroughly for him, let him know the true terrors of it.

"I was eleven. My mother, father, sister, and I were headed to an ice skating rink to teach my sister how it's done. Then out of nowhere a drunk driver appeared and he slammed into our car, causing us to spin out and immense pain to be knocked into all of us. The drunk fool had hit my dads side of the car, the sound of glass breaking was heart stopping, and if that wasn't enough, we then hit a tree. Head on-" I take a deep breath to hold back the tears threatening to spill over. "-that killed my father instantly. His blood going everywhere from the damn glass, the tree only added to that deadly impact. I remember my mother screaming his name, that's all I could hear. Her ear piercing screams, my sisters whimpers, the sirens in the distance that were already much too late." I pause and shut my eyes tighter, the image getting too familiar and too real. I take a shaky breath and say something else. "My parents, they loved each other very much. More than any couple I've ever seen, and you could always tell by looking in their eyes. Nothing but love shown in them. Even if my mother had lived, I don't think she ever would have been the same without my father.

"When the screams died down, I saw that my mother and sister were both knocked unconscious, me soon to follow, and we were rushed to the hospital in a bloody mess. Our once blue car was then red, not because of a paint change, but because of all the blood spilled from our bodies. I woke up three days later only to be informed my mother died on the operating table, and my sister died on the way to the hospital." I conclude, silent tears streaming down my face. Dripping one after the other onto the roof.

I've never spoken this story aloud, though I relive it every night, and it's harder than I even imagined it to be.

"I woke up a damn orphan, nothing hurt worse than that. The more intense pain wasn't from all the cuts I endured from the crash, no, it was from my broken heart, shattered into a million little pieces as their lives were taken away. My father, the man I looked up to. The best father I've ever known, the most loving father, the most encouraging father. And he was gone. My mother, my sweet, dear mother. Who was always there for me, no matter what. The one who would stay up late with me to talk about nothing at all. Ripped out of my life in a second. My little sister, my innocent little sister, the one I swore to protect at all costs. Torn from me, but... never torn from my heart." I pause, and take another deep breath. My tears flowing freely, I don't have the strength to hold them back any longer.

"I know what you're thinking, 'don't you have other family?' Well I did, but they didn't want me. Can you believe it? My own goddamn family didn't even want me, I'm too much a reminder of their dead brother or dead sister, dead son or dead daughter. So I was thrown at Haymitch, my social worker. And that's when the torturous routine of being a foster child began." I end, sniffling and hiccuping from my tears.

Finnick doesn't say anything, I think he's too shocked. But I do feel his warm hand on my cheek and his feathery light fingers brush away my tears. Only to have more replace them.

"I'm sorry, I didn't know," he finally whispers after a few moments of silence.

I shake my head and do all I can to bring my tears to a halt. "It's okay. How could you know?"

He traces his thumb over my scar once more, his eyes focused on it with his eyebrows knitted together. Only now, his eyes are guarded like that first day I met him.

"I have another question..." He says, removing his hand and looking back at the golden field to the setting sun.

"Go on," I say, leaning my head on his shoulder. I don't know why I do, it just felt natural and it makes me feel a tad bit more comforted.

He tenses for a second before relaxing, and he even places a hesitant arm around my shoulders. When he does, I feel something bubbling within my chest. An emotion I'm not very familiar with...

"What made you come here? To get out of the foster system?" He asks me softly.

"I was tired. Tired of the foster system, tired of feeling like a library book; being taken by family after family only to be returned a short while later. No one cared about me, and I just wanted to be alone. Besides, no family will ever replace mine. So when Haymitch offered for me to come here, I took it as soon as I could." I say. I feel something on my hand, and look down to see my fingers intertwined with Finnick's. I guess he did that while I was rambling.

I don't remove my hand.

Finnick doesn't speak, and I assume he's digesting all the information I just unloaded onto him.

"What about you?" I ask. "Why did you get into the foster system? Why did you come here?"

He prepares himself for his own speech. "Well... My so called family is out there somewhere. You see, when I was two, they decided they didn't want me anymore. They abandoned me, left me to die. Literally. The damn police found me next to a dumpster and turned me over to a foster care worker. Technically my original name may not even be Finnick, my poor excuses for parents could have named me Dominic." He tells me, his voice cracking and sounding so... so broken. I can tell he's never given his story before either. My heart breaks for him, he didn't deserve that.

I squeeze his hand to give him some sort of comfort. He squeezes it back before continuing on.

"I just can't wrap my head around the fact my own family, my own blood, would leave me for death..." He looks down at the rough material of roof and shakes his head, disgusted with the fact. He then lifts his head and stares back at the meadow coldly. "I found out that's how I ended up in foster care when I was seven. And ever since then, I didn't trust any family. I don't trust any families. Then just two months ago my social worker was done with me and dumped me here. I've been through four social workers, this one lasted the shortest. But I'm actually glad he took me here." He concludes.

I look up at him and see his own silent tears running down his face to his chin and dropping onto the roof.

I let go of his hand and lift my own to wipe them away, his eyes meet mine and I see the sadness lurking within them. As well as another emotion. Something deeper, something greater.

"I'm sorry..." I whisper sadly, my heart breaking for him.

"It's not your fault..." He forces a smile. "You know you're the only person ever to ask me about that." He tells me.

"And same to you for me."

For some reason, I want to reassure Finnick, tell him that I won't leave him. He's my first ever friend, and I feel a lot towards him. I don't want to loose him.

"Finnick, I won't leave you, not like your family did. I'm here to stay, friends forever." I say firmly, making the sadness in his eyes slowly fades away, leaving the other emotion to fully surface.

He smiles and nods, taking my hand once more. "Forever and always."

Although now I'm realizing I think I want to be more than friends with him.

I look out at the sunset happening over the far away woods and rest my head back on his broad shoulder. He lays his head on top of mine and pulls me the smallest bit closer, leaving his arm more firmly around my shoulders providing me with the utmost warmth.

That emotion in his eyes... I recognize it from somewhere. I've seen it before, many times, I just can't remember where.

xxx

The next day when I come out, he comes and sits close to me.

"Hi," he says.

I smile, "Hey."

"Still have that darn book, I see." He comments.

I grin, "I do."

"Still not going to let me see it?"

I nod, "Bingo."

He sighs and turns to look at the golden field. "You know, you said you sometimes play the guitar. Yet I've never heard you play it once, I think you're bluffing." He pokes fun at me, making me nudge his shoulder.

"I do too play the guitar," I retort playfully.

"And you get your songs from this very songbook I presume, yes?" He asks, taking it from my lap. He doesn't open it though, instead looks at me as if to ask if it's okay.

I nod, and he looks surprised. I'm surprised myself, I just gave him permission to read something that is the equivalent to a top secret FBI data chart, in my eyes at least. He opens it up and begins reading the lyrics I've written over the past five years. I watch his reactions while I nervously nibble on my bottom lip. No one's ever read my songbook before.

His eyes light up as he reads the lyrics, and they darken, they tear, and they glow. He has all the reactions I had while writing each and every word.

"Katniss... Did you write all these?" He asks, turning to me in wonder and amazement.

I nod sheepishly.

"That's amazing, these songs are genius! They're so true and-" he exclaims reading through a few more. Then he stops and narrows his eyes.

"No one needs me," he echoes one of the lines of a song I wrote just after coming here.

He slowly looks back at me and he looks almost pained.

"That's not true," he whispers. "I do. I need you."

My heart skips a beat at his words, I don't know how to respond. I avert my eyes to the songbook and swallow.

"I could, erm, play them for you. If you want," I offer, something I never, ever do. Something I've never even thought of doing. As far as I know no one has actually heard me play the guitar, except maybe Haymitch.

His eyes brighten back up, "I would love that."

I get up and carefully make my way back inside to get my guitar. I pick up the case and set it on my bed carefully, I open it up and once I do a smile instantly forms on my lips.

It's been so long since I've played it... I run my fingers along it, the only thing I have left of my deceased family.

I take it in carefully in my hands and walk back to the roof, I very gently lay my guitar out there before squeezing my way through the window. I pick it up and sit back down by Finnick who's eyes are bright with excitement.

"Do you have a preference?" I ask, getting the guitar situated on my lap.

He shakes his head.

I open up my songbook and look through it, then a song I wrote just after the crash comes to mind. I quickly flip to it and read over it, obviously I've revised it over the years to make it good enough to play and sing.

Here goes nothing...

(Untitled, Simple Plan. But for the sake of this story we will say she wrote this song.)

"I open my eyes,

I try to see but I'm blinded by the white light.

I can't remember how

I can't remember why, I'm lying here tonight.

And I can't stand the pain,

And I can't make it go away.

No I can't stand the pain...

How could this happen to me?

I've made my mistakes,

Got nowhere to run!

The night goes on as I'm fading away.

I'm sick of this life,

I just wanna scream!

How could this happen to me?"

Of course I'm beginning to tear up, but I push the tears and sobs back down. I need to finish this song.

"Everybody's screaming,

I try to make a sound but no one hears me.

I'm slipping off the edge,

I'm hanging by a thread!

I wanna start this over again...

So I try to hold,

Onto a time when nothing mattered.

And i can't explained what happened.

And I can't erase the things that I've done.

No I can't...

How could this happen to me?

I've made my mistakes!

Got nowhere to run,

The night goes on as I'm fading away.

I'm sick of this life, I just wanna scream!

How could this happen to me?"

I get lost in the song, lost in the way the guitar sounds, lost in my memories. Right now, I'm alone. It's just me on this roof singing my heart out, it's been so long since I have...

"I've made my mistakes!

Got nowhere to run.

The night goes on as I'm fading away!

I'm sick of this life,

I just wanna scream!

How could this happen to me?"

Once I finish, I have tears flooding my eyes but I refuse to let them fall. My eyes are focused on the stretched out land ahead.

"Katniss..." Only when I hear Finnick's smooth, deep voice do I remove my eyes from the field to look at him. He has tears in his own eyes. "That was beautiful, you're beautiful."

I blush and look down, but he's not finished.

"Everything about you is beautiful; your eyes, your nose, your smile, your lips, your dimples, your hair, your personality, your body, your creative mind, your laugh; every goddamn thing." He whispers.

I'm taken by surprise, no one has ever said these things to me before.

"Finnick..." I trail off because I really don't know what to say.

"That song was amazing, and your voice... Oh my god, it was the most beautiful thing I've ever heard. Like that of an Angels." He says, lifting a hand to tuck a stray strand of hair behind my ear and rests his hand gently on my cheek.

"Katniss, what I feel around you is something I've never felt around anyone else before. I get this weird tingly feeling in the pit of my stomach. My mood is always bright when you're around, I'm only ever glum when you leave. When you are sad my heart shatters into a million pieces and all I want to do is wrap you in my arms and never let you go... And I find that I want to talk to you and be with you twenty four-seven, and when we do talk my mind travels into thoughts of your lips on my own. I even freaking dream about you Katniss. You're the only person who's bothered to get to know me, and you're the only person who actually seems to care."

He pauses and takes a breath.

"What I'm trying to say is that I've fallen for you, hard and fast. I'm... I'm in love with you." He concludes, giving me no time to react before his lips are on my own.

I'm surprised for a few seconds, this is my first kiss after all. I kiss him back nonetheless.

This is when I realize that the emotion I always see in his eyes is love. It's the same way my parents used to look at each other, the same love and adoration their eyes held, ours hold now.

Both his hands are placed softly on my cheeks, but he drops one hand to my waist to pull me closer. I hesitantly place my arms around his torso as our lips move in sync. I never want to pull away, I want to stay in this moment forever. Of course I do end up pulling away for the need to breathe. But as I do a smile is instantly on both of our swollen lips as he rests his forehead against my own.

"Yeah, even better than I could have imagined." He whispers, making me blush and laugh slightly.

"You know, I think I've fallen for you as well... I think I'm in love with you, too." I say, looking down to avoid his eyes.

As soon as I say what I do, his lips are back on mine, and this time I don't hesitate to kiss him back.

xxx

I sit down with my guitar in hand and Finnick's arm goes around my waist. I've been here for almost a year now, and I've been with Finnick for eight months. I've even gotten closer with the others, Glimmer left a few months ago but she still comes back to visit us.

Finnick convinced me to start playing my guitar for everyone in the house. So here I am, sitting next to him out in the back field while we have a bonfire. The others are all gathered around, eyes lit up by the fire as they smile at me.

"This is a new song, so I may mess up." I say sheepishly.

Johanna rolls her eyes, "Even if you did it would be amazing, now come on!"

I laugh and so do the others. Finnick kisses my temple and lets his lips linger before I begin. (This is Little Wonders, Rob Thomas, but again, let's say she wrote it for the sake of the story.)

"Let it go,

let it roll right off your shoulder.

Don't you know,

the hardest part is over.

Let it in,

let your clarity define you.

In the end,

we will only just remember how it feels.

Our lives are made,

in these small hours.

These little wonders,

these twists and turns of fate.

Time falls away,

but these small hours,

these small hours still remain."

I smile at everyone who are slowly swaying, I look at Finnick who's smiling warmly down at me. He kisses my lips quickly and I begin to sing again.

"Let it slide,

let your troubles fall behind you.

Let it shine,

until you feel it all around you.

And I don't mind,

if it's me you need to turn to.

We'll get by,

it's the heart that really matters in the end.

Our lives are made,

in these small hours.

These little wonders,

these twists and turns of fate.

Time falls away,

but these small hours,

these small hours still remain.

All of my regret,

will wash away somehow.

But I can not forget,

the way I feel right now.

In these small hours,

these little wonders.

These twists and turns of fate,

these twists and turns of fate.

Time falls way,

but these small hours,

these small hours still remain.

Still remain.

These little wonders,

these twists and turns of fate.

Time falls away,

but these small hours,

these small hours still remain."

I end the song and the others all clap, making me blush. I'm still new to the whole preforming in front of other people thing...

"That was superb, as always," Finnick whispers in my ear. He kisses it before pulling his head back.

It turns out we turn eighteen in the same month, and just last night Finnick asked me to move in with him once we turn eighteen. Once we move away from this place and start a life of our own.

Of course I agreed, I've already come to the conclusion I want to be with him forever.

Forever and always.

Honestly, I think this one was my favorite! What do y'all think? Did you like this one as much as I did?