Annie woke up with the sun.
Dim light filtered through the white bedroom curtains, making patterns that danced across the wall. She smiled softly to herself as she slid quietly out of bed, careful not to wake the sleeping figure beside her.
Above the dresser, Annie flipped the calendar to the new month.
November first. Or as Annie liked to call it, the first day of Christmas.
She crept downstairs, hesitating slightly at the door which would lead to the basement. This was a room in the house which Annie almost always avoided. It was dark and damp and cold, but she would brave it for the sake of Christmas.
The distinct smell of dust hit her like a brick as she shuffled into the basement. Fortunately, the room was well organised, and she found what she was looking for almost immediately.
It took her a while to drag each of the boxes of Christmas decorations out into the living room.
Tinsel would always be the first step in the sacred process which was decorating a house for Christmas. Annie sorted through the boxes, gathering an assortment of colours.
There wasn't much coordination to the way she arranged things, she mostly just went with how she felt, taping strings of tinsel to the shelves in the kitchen, the bookshelves in the living room, and above each window.
She dragged a box of ornaments behind her, sliding them onto the string, so they were hanging from the tinsel. She sung quietly to herself, reciting old District 4 Christmas carols as she littered the house with angel figurines and cinnamon scented candles.
It must have taken her hours, but her new husband could sleep all day if she let him, so Annie was left undisturbed.
When she was finally happy with her work, and had dragged the boxes back to the basement, she headed to the kitchen.
Annie had always been good at cooking. When she was younger, it had been out of necessity. Often, her parents would work overtime to make ends meet, so all the Cresta children were expected to help out around the house. Now, it was for pleasure.
She lay out each ingredient in a row on the bench. Rolling the gingerbread dough took a bit of force, but the slow, steady movements had always soothed Annie. Countless times, when she had been on the brink of an episode, Finnick had set her in front of a pile of dough- pizza dough, cookie dough; it didn't matter- allowing the simple task to ground her.
There was an assortment of cookie cutters in a box on the bench, with gingerbread men and angels and stars.
Last year, they had learned a lesson the hard way when Annie spiraled at the sight of gingerbread cutters missing their arms, legs or head. As soon as Finnick had gotten her more or less settled in her room, rocking back and forth in a tearful haze, he had purged the house of the offending cookie cutters. Needless to say, they would not grace the house again.
Annie sat on the kitchen floor in front of the oven while the cookies baked, humming softly to herself. That was how Finnick found her.
.
.
.
Finnick woke up to a tickling sensation on his cheek.
He hit his face, albeit gently incase it was Annie. However, his hand did not connect with flesh, but rather a sparkly piece of plastic.
"What in the-" he sat up in a sleepy haze of confusion, a strand of fallen tinsel dropping behind him. While he had gone to sleep in a relatively clean room, save a pile of crumpled lolly wrappers on his bedside table from the night before, he was now faced with a room glittering with a rainbow of coloured tinsel hanging from every conceivable surface.
"Annie?" Finnick called, not really expecting a response. As he stumbled out of the room and down the stairs, he catalogued the impressive array of decorations which were less than artfully scattered around the house.
He found her sitting on the kitchen floor, staring almost dreamily at the oven.
"Annie, are you okay?" He crouched beside her, careful not to startle her as he scanned her face. He had been worried he'd find her zoned out in the middle of an episode. Instead, she was alert and smiling back at him brightly.
"Hiya Finnick. Do you want to help me decorate gingerbread cookies? They are just about done."
Finnick glanced at the trays in the oven, before properly plopping down next to her.
"Uh, sure. They'll have to cool first though, right?" She nodded in response.
"I can show you the house while we wait."
Once the gingerbread was safely out of the oven and cooling, Finnick followed Annie hesitantly into the living room. The decorations were most intense here, with ornaments and snow globes and, of course, tinsel, taking up almost every spot of usually blank space.
"It's… a lot," Finnick said after a moment, turning cautiously to gauge her reaction. She really did seem fine though, so he continued. "Y'know, maybe we could just take this…" he moved to take down a string of especially colourful tinsel which lined the fishtank but was stopped almost immediately by soft hands and a stern glare.
"No way!" Annie argued, fixing the decoration, and turning back to Finnick with her arms crossed.
"The house is beautiful Annie, really, but don't you think it's a bit much?"
"It's Christmas, Finnick. Nothing is too much," she insisted, throwing her arms around his neck.
Grinning, he faked a groan.
"Annie Cresta, it is the first day of November. It is not Christmas."
"Hush!" She gasped, pressing a hand softly over his mouth. "Such blasphemy will not be tolerated in my house."
"Our house."
It was Annie's turn to grin.
"Such blasphemy will not be tolerated in our house," she reiterated, pressing a soft kiss to his lips.
"Whatever you say, sweetheart."
"So, the decorations can stay?"
Finnick shook his head ruefully, brushing his nose against Annie's.
"Yes, the decorations can stay."
Annie smiled at him for a moment, before seeming to realise something. She pulled away suddenly, disappearing out of the room before Finnick knew what was happening.
"Annie?"
"I have a job for you!" she called back.
He found her pulling a box out of the basement.
"What's this?" he asked, taking the box from her. He answered his own question when he opened it to find an entire city worth of Christmas lights.
"No, Annie."
"Pleeeeeaaase Finnick. I can't do it myself, the roof is too high."
"Too high for you, but not too high for me?"
"Would you let me on the roof by myself?"
"No."
Annie gives him a pointed look. Finnick flashes her a grin in response.
"Do we really need all this in November?" Finnick tries one last time, but any resolve he had to keep his home looking respectable vanished the moment Annie smiled.
"Yes Finnick!" Annie maintained, shaking his arm playfully. "Come on, please!"
Finnick went to give her an easy smirk, but he couldn't stop it from growing to a full-blown beam as he bent down to lift the box.
"Okay, I concede; let there be lights."
Annie twirled down the hallway towards the front door.
How did I get so lucky? He thought as he followed behind, shaking his head.
Author's Note:
Hi everyone. If you enjoyed this I would be so grateful if you left a comment seeing as views aren't working right now so I have no idea if anyone has even clicked on this story 😭.