CHAPTER 25 Angelique
After weeks of thinking, Olive realised something as she waited for the male tribute's name for the Seventy-first Hunger Games to be called. Her deepest desire wasn't to run back home and cry her eyes out if Theo was chosen, but to hug and cry in Finnick's arms.
The split second she had to process that large amount of information turned out to be just enough to realise the trouble she was in. Her eyes travelled to Finnick, who was discreetly glancing her way as well.
"Amuse me." President Snow's words made a special, rather ironic, sense.
He had seen her love for the boy even before she did. And, instead of telling her not to be anywhere near his most profitable victor, he just told her to 'amuse' him? Was there really no reason for it except pure amusement? Did President Snow want something out of them? How could a victor loving another victor help him in any way?
"Milo Owens," Piscia called.
From her left, Olive could almost hear Annie sigh, relieved, despite how close she was to have another panic attack. Her twin's mental stability, or rather the lack of it, was a worrisome thing. From that one nightmare months ago, it had only gone worse. And it surged at the worst of times, like in the middle of the reaping.
Olive tried to stay in her chair for as long as she could, but the moment Annie raised her hands to her ears, trying to block everyone out, she stood up. The cameras could be on her, but she couldn't care less. It was her sister who had her full concern. In any case, Olive knew that Haymitch would make his typical scene during District Twelve's turn, so she wouldn't be alone breaking the Reaping rules.
"Hey, it's OK, Annie, it's me," Olive whispered, placing her hands gently on Annie's arms.
It all stopped for a second. All the cameras were on them, taking away all the attention from the two kids; branded and ready for their deaths. Then, as Piscia continued talking, the attention was forcefully shifted back to the tributes.
Minutes passed, and, finally, the reaping was over. The end of the anthem marked the start of the single hour the families would have to say goodbye to their children inside the Justice Building.
For the Cresta's, however, it marked the beginning of their daily worry. Gianna and Theo came running up the stairs to the stage towards Olive and Annie. And, even though his eyes tried to show Olive how much he wanted to help, Finnick had to walk away; cameras still posed on him as he forced a cocky smile while talking to Ron.
"Annie, it's OK, you're safe. We're in Four," Gianna promised, cupping Annie's face in her hands.
No matter how much they tried to reassure Annie, it just wouldn't work. Their sister had gone into a deep abyss that none knew how to take her out of. One moment she was pressing her hands against her temples, muttering and mumbling, and the other she shouted for no apparent reason.
"Only one person should be close to her," said a girl at the top of the stairs. "And try to ask for her consent. If she doesn't want you near, don't go near. If she wants a hug, absolutely give her one."
Olive and Gianna looked directly at the girl, but then decided to direct their attention back to Annie. "Who stays?" They asked.
"The girl just said to ask Annie everything," pointed out Theo.
"Alright, here goes nothing," Olive muttered to herself, letting go of Annie's arms to give her space, something Gianna copied. "Annie, if you can hear me, who do you want to be near you? . . . or maybe you don't want anyone and want to be alone. That's OK."
Annie's hands pressed harder against her temples, but surely replied in a shaky voice. "Olive . . . Olive . . ."
Their father, who had just made it through the crowd of people leaving the town square, stopped next to the girl, realising why Theo and Gianna were walking away from Annie when Olive was getting closer. He placed his hand on Gianna's shoulder while the other ruffled Theo's already uncontrollable hair.
"Who are you?" Theo asked, staring at the girl.
She looked down at him, smiling softly as she answered. "Angelique, but call me Angel."
"How did you know about all that?" This time, it was Gianna's turn to ask.
"I had a sister." Angel drove her eyes back to Annie, her smile and eyes somehow becoming more melancholic by the second. "She used to have panic attacks often . . ."
"I'm sorry," Gianna said, genuinely.
"It's OK. With time, one learns how to deal with the loss." Angel glanced at Gianna, her eyes changing to an apologetic look. "I guess I'm not saying anything you haven't already experienced." She looked in Annie's direction one more time. "Although, yours might just be worse."
"Either way, thank you for your help," said their father, his hand leaving Theo's head to shake Angel's hand.
Angel took his hand and shook it firmly, staring directly into Joe's eyes. "It's nothing, sir . . . I just wanted to help."
The twins walked towards their family, Annie keeping an arm around Olive to make sure her sister never got far away from her. Her grip had been tight for minutes, but, as her eyes landed on Angel's, she practically let go.
"Hey." Angel smiled at her. "Feeling better?"
Out for words, Annie nodded, taking a second to whisper. "Thank you."
"It's OK," assured Angel, her eyes fixated on Annie's, which made Olive stare at the older girl curiously. "Oh, um, and my name's Angel, by the way. If you ever need anything, I'm usually around the market."
Annie blushed, not finding words to reply, which made Olive feel forced to step up to help her sister out. "That's great. Thanks for letting us know. You were really helpful there."
For the first time since she had arrived, Angel diverted her attention to Olive, smiling at her kindly, though a soft pink colour had overtaken her cheeks while talking to Annie. "No worries." Her eyes were back on Annie, the soft blush increasing. "I guess I'll see you around."
The Cresta family watched the girl leave, her fingers running through her hair, undoing her tight bun. A single second after Angel was out of their sight, three of the four siblings began laughing. Only Annie, who was still dazed, almost as if daydreaming, remained silent.
"Alright, kids, keep it down," said their father, trying to stifle a laugh himself.
Two pairs of footsteps halted beside them. The two eldest male victors smiled at the families with apologetic smiles, glancing from Annie to the rest of the siblings.
"Sorry to ruin the fun, but Annie should come with us," said Rhett, receiving a reprimanding look from Clem. "What? She has. She's a mentor this year. There's nothing we can do."
"Next time, I'll talk. Clem huffed while holding Rhett's hand. "I love you, but you have the emotional range of a teaspoon."
"Ouch," muttered Rhett.
Olive sniggered at the victor's interaction, but soon drove her attention back to her twin, whose daydreaming state had finally stopped. "Don't worry about a thing, Annie. We'll be right here when you get back. And Librae will be with you, too."
Watching Annie leave for the Capitol, even if it was as a victor, didn't please any of the siblings, nor their father. They stayed on the platform, waving off the train until it was no longer visible. The victor's house, not far from the station or the sea, seemed to be kilometres away.
"Kids, we should go," said their father, placing his hands on Theo's and Gianna's shoulders while his eyes posed on Olive, who couldn't stop staring at the sea. "Olive, dear, are you coming?"
"I . . ." Olive doubted. "I'll go back in a bit. I just need to clear my head."
"You want us to go with you?" asked Gianna, taking a step closer to her younger sister, who shook her head lightly. "Alright, just come back to Victor's Village before sundown, alright?"
Olive turned to lock eyes with her family, smiling at them comfortingly. "Don't worry, I will."
The beach was particularly silent. Nothing more than the sound of waves crashing onto the shore and the passing breeze accompanied her. She stood in front of it all, barefoot, allowing the waves to engulf her feet and a bit over her ankles in them.
She didn't dare to step any further. However, there was something about the cool water that made her shaky breath unimportant. All her attention was on the clarity and sea-green colour at the far end, near the horizon.
Maybe time alone to think it's not exactly what I needed, she thought, fighting her own reason and fear to sit down, despite her trousers getting soaked.
The water passed through her fingers like her presence was meaningless to it. Nothing could go against it, not even the greatest rocks. It all deteriorated before the unbreakable force of the waves. Perhaps even her. If she sat for enough time, she would be taken away as well.
"And here I thought you hated the sea." Finnick's voice appeared out of nowhere, just as his body sat down next to her, their shoulders brushing against each other.
"I don't hate it," corrected Olive. "I have a deep respect for it."
"So, fear," concluded Finnick with a cocky smile. "Hey, it's OK. I'm scared to climb a tree with you to this day. I'm sure I would fall and break my neck."
"Better breaking your neck than drowning . . . slowly . . . and suffocating."
"Well, aren't you the personification of sunshine?" Finnick scoffed, placing an arm over her shoulders. "What's got you here? We both know you wouldn't be here unless something's going around that head of yours."
A sigh escaped her lips, the only sound she could make before her throat got blocked, and her eyes bottled up with tears. Finnick pulled her closer with his arm, letting her rest her head on his shoulder to cry as much as she needed.
"I'm scared," Olive choked out through the tears and sniffs. "If they die . . . because of me . . . Finnick, I can't. I want a deal . . . I want to know what I'm supposed to do!"
Finnick soothed her by gently rocking her back and forth. A hand stroked her hair, while his other hand lowered to rub her back comfortingly.
"It'll be fine," he promised. "You're doing great."
"No, I'm not." Olive shook her head. "He met me. On the day of Annie's interview after her Games. He was on Four's floor . . . I'm sorry, I begged Mags not to tell anyone."
He kissed her temple, feeling her cold skin against his lips. "It's OK . . . it's OK . . ."
"He told me to amuse him." Olive gripped Finnick's shirt, scooting closer to bury her head in the collar of his shirt. "What does that even mean? What can I even do? I don't want . . . if Annie's in danger in the Capitol . . . it'll be my fault. It'll all be my fault."
"It's not," Finnick assured, letting go of her back for a second to reach into his pocket. "Annie will be fine, I promise. They'll all be alright."
"You don't know that . . . no one can know that." Olive closed her eyes, letting the tears flow down her eyes to Finnick's shirt as they wanted.
"But I know you'll do the right thing." Finnick took a thin, yet large piece of rope out of his pocket, different from the one she was used to seeing him carry. "You always do what's right. And, even if you don't know what to do, you always have me, right? I can help."
"Finnick . . ." Olive took her head out of Finnick's collar to look at him, a trembling smile forming on her lips as their eyes met. "You're a blessing."
"What are you, then? An angel?" he asked, leaving the piece of rope in her hands with a proud look in his eyes.
A shaky chuckle left Olive's lips, her eyes travelling to the rope. "Well, this angel has no idea what you want me to do with the rope, Finn."
Finnick's smile grew wider, taking her hands with his own to show her the different, most simple knots everyone should know of. At all times, Olive watched, amazed at what her own hands, though with Finnick's help, could do. It wasn't as if she had never tied anything with a rope, but she hadn't done it with such professional, and strangely easy-to-learn, knots.
Tears no longer ran down her cheeks and her runny nose stopped, forcing her to sniff every few seconds. The only noticeable attributes from crying were her reddish cheeks and her swollen eyes. Although, somehow, they didn't seem to make Finnick want to look at her any less. He kept glancing in her direction — her eyes, her cheeks, her lips — almost like wanting to grave that memory in stone, so it could last forever.
"And now, my personal favourite. The most important knot to know in the Arena," he declared, gently taking the rope from her hands to do it himself quickly, as if not wanting her to pick up any of the steps.
Olive stared at the knot, watching Finnick putting it around his neck and tightening it. "The hangman's knot?"
"Well, how else will they —" he feigned to hang himself, sticking out his tongue dramatically as he closed his eyes.
"Mm-hmm, it all makes sense now." Olive nodded along, though she was furrowing at Finnick with a doubtful smile.
"Well, it can also be good for less violent things," he said while placing the other end of the rope in her hands. "You want to take me for a walk?"
Olive's eyes were stuck on Finnick, whose eyes kept battling between focusing on her lips or her eyes. She got closer to him, repressing a snigger as she saw Finnick trying to concentrate all his attention on her eyes.
"It's broad daylight, Finnick. What on Earth are you even suggesting?"
"Well," he began, "if you don't want to, you can always give the rope back."
"No," Olive whined playfully, but gave him the rope without teasing him any further. "Why teach me all about these knots so suddenly, though? I mean, it's interesting, but I doubt I'll ever need it."
Finnick increased the distance between their faces, his cheeks becoming a soft pink colour. "It's what I usually do to just . . . not think. I do and undo knots."
"Does that help you cope?" asked Olive, actually interested to know more about it.
"No, one can never cope with the things they've done and seen in the Arena. Or can you? Even if it's just from the tapes, can you forget it? Make as if it doesn't exist?" It only took a soft shake of her head for Finnick to continue, leaving the once again straight rope in her hands. "I drag myself out of nightmares, and the only relief I have is knowing that part of it isn't true . . . it's better not to give into it, though. It takes ten times longer to put yourself back together than it does to fall apart."
Olive's eyes stared at the rope, an odd warm feeling creeping up on her. "Is there anything I can do to help? You said you would help me. How can I help you?"
"Stay alive." He flashed her a weak smile. "And don't ever do something stupid without me."
"Done." She showed him the same smile back at him, locking eyes, and ignoring how much their stomachs were demanding them to go eat dinner. "You know, I never expected to be this close to The Finnick Odair. You've really crept up on me."
"Is that a good or a bad thing?" he asked, making Olive chuckle.
"Good. Great, even." Olive gave him one last hug before they got up to walk back to Victor's Village. "Thank you so much, Finn."
"I'll always be here, Liv. Please, never forget that."
The addition of the warmness against her skin, the comforting, almost engulfing feeling, and the reassuring words entering her mind, made tears bottle up in her eyes once again.
With a trembling voice, and an unsteady grip on Finnick's shirt, Olive hid her face in the collar of his shirt to mutter, "I promise, Finn. I'll note it down in my diary the moment I get to my Victor's house."
"Good." Finnick's voice shook as badly as hers, gripping her shirt tightly to bring her closer to him. "That's good, Liv."