The room was silent. Finnick had shown no interest in explaining any further, and neither Olive felt as if she had the right to ask. Something told her that the nightmare was way more personal than she could ever imagine. However, she didn't remember if Finnick had any younger siblings to worry about. Maybe he had one or two that were still eligible for the Games, or simply in danger for a reason that she still didn't know.
"I also had a nightmare," she muttered, trying to open up to him while not raising her eyes from his hands, which rested on his lap. "My little brother, Theo, who I volunteered for . . . he was being killed. Time and time again. In front of me. I wasn't able to do anything. Only watch as someone stabbed him, leaving him to die while he cried and shouted my name."
Olive remained quiet after that, watching as his hands clenched for a few seconds before relaxing again. One made its way to hers, trying to show her support by holding it while caressing the back of her hand.
"It's OK if you don't want to tell me, or if you can't tell me," she said softly, reciprocating his gesture by caressing his hand with her thumb. "I just thought that maybe telling someone could help keep the nightmares away."
"It won't keep them away. But it does make one feel better," Finnick spoke, with his eyes still staring intensely at the covers.
"How do you cope, then?" she questioned, glancing for the first time from their hands to his eyes, accomplishing to see a glimpse of his sea-green eyes through the darkness.
"I don't," he stated quietly. "But it's better not to give into it. It takes ten times as long to put yourself back together as it does to fall apart."
Silently, Olive rested her head on Finnick's shoulder, trying to get his words to sink in her mind. The silence continued until the break of dawn, when Olive had to leave, quite reluctantly, to get ready for the second day of training.
Breakfast wasn't any better, as there was no chatter. Piscia at first tried to create conversation by talking about any subject possible. However, she soon realised no one was in the mood for it. Not even from Ron or Mags, who sometimes brought something up to discuss with her.
The rest of the day was the same. Training. Supper in silence. And, during sunset, Olive's unscheduled meeting with Finnick on the roof. He seemed somewhat better than during the morning, although he lacked his usual cocky smile.
In the end, it was a quiet day. By the time Olive returned to her room, she hadn't spoken with anyone since she had left Finnick's room at dawn. As she tossed and turned on her bed, she acknowledged the fact that, even if she did fall asleep, she wouldn't have a pleasant dream or even dreamless sleep.
A nightmare would appear, and she would have to watch her brother die all over again. Perhaps not only him, but also her sisters, Annie and Gianna, or her father. Anyone that she loved or cared for could appear.
"You know you need to sleep while you can, right? You won't be getting much sleep in the arena," Librae said, opening the doors to the balcony where Olive had been in for ten minutes.
"Nightmares," Olive stated simply, not bothering to look at her mentor while she sighed. There was no denying that she had hoped that the person walking through the doors would be Finnick instead of Librae. "I'll go to bed later."
"Later, as in after dawn?" Librae mocked, laughing softly before walking to stand next to her while glancing at the bright moon. "You're scared. It's normal. Honestly, I would be concerned if you weren't."
"It's not only that," Olive muttered, glancing at her mentor to use the same analysing eyes Librae used on her. "If I win . . . If I survive and become a victor. Will my family be safe?"
Librae stood there, silently staring at her while trying to figure out what to say. "It depends. Are you willing to do anything for them?"
"I gave my life for one of them. So, yeah," Olive answered.
"Oh, but that's easy. After all, the ones dealing with the loss aren't the tributes themselves, but their families. Once you're dead, there's nothing left. No pain or joy. However, life continues for everyone else," Librae chuckled bitterly, before adding. "I'm talking about willingly surviving through horrors for them. Managing to keep yourself alive despite how much you want to end it all, just for them. For their safety. And for them to continue living happily."
Olive stood still, utterly shocked at her mentor's words. Blinking a few times, she nodded. The words weren't leaving her head as they replayed louder than any sound around her. "Yes, for them, I would survive anything."
"Then, yes. They'll be safe," Librae assured, rubbing Olive's back to comfort her somehow. "Go to sleep, Olive. Tomorrow you have the private session. Finnick told you, didn't he? A six or seven will do perfectly well. No need for more."
"Alright. Thanks, Librae," Olive said, turning around to leave for her room. On the way, she met Ron, who patted her shoulder reassuringly before walking through the doors to the balcony to talk to Librae.
During dinner on the third day of training, tributes began to be called for the private sessions. As always, district by district. First the boy, then the girl. Olive sat by herself, mulling over what she would do first when she entered the room until her name was called.
As she entered the Gymnasium, all the stares from the half-drunk Gamemakers landed on her. Some watched silently, while others kept refilling their glasses of wine. With her hands sweating slightly, Olive walked to the archery station, trying to choose the bow that resembled the most the one she had at home before going to the shooting range.
Of course, since it wasn't exactly hers, and hadn't had any practice with it, missing was inevitable. After sighing once to let out all her frustration, she tried again, getting used to the string and arrow, which were pretty different from the ones she normally used, before shooting again. This time, hitting the dummy straight where the heart would be.
As that seemed not to impress the Gamemakers in the slightest, Olive decided on a more artistic approach. She loaded her bow again and shot repeatedly until the dummy had arrows pierced all over its body in the form of the number '4'.
Since she still had some time left, Olive decided to move on to the knives, picking a few throwing knives and some regular ones before going back to the already pierced dummy. The first knife she threw landed in the middle of the neck, which made the stuffing overflow as if it were blood. She moved on to the next dummy, decapitating it before turning around quickly to throw a knife at the rope that held the boxing's sandbag, which dropped to the floor with a loud thud.
Oh, shit. I just had to get a six or seven. Olive realised just as the Gamemakers dismissed her. Let's hope my first mistake rests me points. Or maybe what I did wasn't enough to impress them.
"So, how was it?" Ron asked as he watched her enter through the doors to the District Four's floor. Mags welcomed her through mumbles, which she didn't completely understand, but were shortly accompanied by a comforting smile.
"I might have overdone it," she confessed, sitting on a couch next to Mags and Finnick as the latter laughed. "What's so funny?"
"Nothing, nothing. I just kind of expected it from you," Finnick said while chuckling. "What did you do?"
"I missed the first shot because I wasn't used to the bow. I shot at a dummy's heart and then formed the number four in its chest with arrows. After that, I decapitated them with throwing knives. And that's about it," Olive counted, resting her back against the sofa as Librae laughed loudly.
"And that's about it," Librae repeated mockingly. "Glad that's it. Sweetie, were you aiming for a six or a ten?"
"I'm not sure. I just wanted it to be over without failing miserably," Olive admitted, giggling at Piscia's amazed expression. As minutes passed, she decided to leave the room to go somewhere else.
After getting permission from Piscia to go to her room, she walked to the roof again. This time, enjoying the daylight view. Sunset was still hours away. By now, her district partner would have arrived at their floor, which meant it was District Five's turn.
"I can't believe you lied to Piscia. You said you'd go to your room," Finnick commented mockingly, walking through the door that led to the roof. Standing beside her as they watched the horizon.
"As if you didn't cover up for me, saying you would go get me for supper. You knew damn well I would be up here," she retorted in the same playful tone. "Good to know the Capitol's Darling got his cockiness back."
"Oh, so you knew," he muttered, his voice dropping slightly as if he didn't like that at all, causing Olive to become wary of the nickname she had just used. "I thought you didn't, since you never joked about that before."
"Who wouldn't know about the most famous and handsomest victor of Panem being called that? Please, I think Caesar calls you that at least five times each interview," Olive answered lightly, trying to get him to chuckle or laugh. "It's not that bad of a nickname. With your reputation, it could be worse."
"What does 'with your reputation' mean, huh? You're mocking me?" he asked, glancing at her with a playful mad expression, just to encounter her bright smile. Not cocky or mocking, but actual happiness for seeing someone who she considered a friend back to being themselves.
"I'm just saying that, back home, you're known as quite the ladies' man," she said, laughing softly. With her right hand closed, she raised an imaginary microphone in front of him before asking with her best Capitol-mocking accent. "Is that true, Mister Odair? Are the rumours true?"
He chuckled, holding her wrist to bring the invisible microphone closer to him, before speaking with a straight face. "No comments." After that, he let go of her wrist and faked to walk away while Olive laughed loudly, resting a hand on top of her heart as her eyes watered.
"I wasn't expecting that," she said, watching as Finnick came back from his previous outraged walk. An idea popped up in her head and, with a mischievous smile, she waited for him to stand next to her. However, as he saw her smile, he turned around and walked in the other direction with her going after him. "Don't walk off like that! The people deserve to know!"
"No, they don't," he laughed, picking up the pace to leave her behind, despite her almost running after him.
"Mister Odair, don't be like that!" She shouted with the Capitol accent still present. Nevertheless, as she saw him put even more distance between them, she paused and faked to look at a camera before adding. "You've heard it, folks. Finnick Odair, our darling, doesn't want to share anything with us. I wonder how many disappointed ladies there must be right now."
"Olive Cresta!" She heard him yell while walking back towards her with a playful, annoyed expression.
"In other news, Caesar, I am in trouble. I will run for my life now. Have an excellent evening, folks." Just as the presenter's impression finished, she took off running to the stairs.
Though, as she was about to open the door, it was pushed back in place by someone behind her. "Before you say or do anything, killing your own tributes is forbidden, Finnick."
"Lucky you," he muttered playfully, not letting go of the door, so she couldn't run downstairs. "Tomorrow you'll have to learn etiquette with Piscia. Let's see who laughs then."
"Oh, fuck," she whined, raising her head to look at the sky, which was now a beautiful mix between orange and pink. "Not her. Anyone but Piscia, please. Can't Mags teach me?"
"Piscia might actually kill us if we take her job away from her," Finnick joked. "Anyway, I think it's almost time for supper. Let's go down."
Once they got back, they found everything prepared and ready to be served. Supper was surprisingly peaceful. Piscia seemed to have found comfort in chatting with Four's stylists instead of the mentors, who, although seemed to be more talkative than the previous day, were still rather silent.
The real silence began once they sat on the couches around the sitting room, waiting impatiently for the scores to be announced. First, they showed the photo of the tribute and then their number. The tributes from One and Two pulled between a nine and ten, while both from Three had a five.
As her face was shown on television, Olive gripped her trousers tightly, counting the seconds until it showed her score. The number eight flashed on the screen, making her rest her back against the couch in relief. It wasn't a six or seven, as her mentors had asked her to get, but it wasn't that far off. An eight could still let her be overlooked.
The cheering began once her district partner's score had been shown. A nine, which only confirmed Olive's suspicions about her partner using the cowardly approach to keep the others' guard down. Who knew what she was capable of doing?
After congratulating each other, the first real interaction between the two, Olive managed to escape to her room. She would rather go to the roof and chat with Finnick than sleep. But Librae was right, she needed to rest. After all, there wouldn't be much space to sleep in the arena. With threats at every turn, closing her eyes would be dooming herself to die.
Hours later, after much tossing and turning before she finally managed to fall asleep. In her dreams, the beautiful scenario of her family hunting together appeared. Theo's radiant face every time he shot something. Annie's dislike for hunting, although she found gathering quite entertaining. Gianna happily following their father's footsteps.
She walked around the dream as if the time had frozen. It wasn't just any dream; it was a memory. The day, all of them had contributed to taking down a deer. Annie couldn't look when their father gave the killing blow, but she understood a deer could mean lots of food if they knew who to sell it to.
Time unfroze, letting Theo run next to her towards the deer, which had already been taken down. There was something strange in the way it lay on the ground. Something wasn't right. She tried to yell to get her brother's attention, but no words came out of her mouth, only a high-pitched scream.
What once was a deer had become a mutation characteristic from the Games. An enormous, horrifying mutt that killed little Theo in less than a second, leaving his corpse bleeding on the ground.
Everyone ran. Everyone except Olive. She was way too stunned to take her eyes off the thing that had just killed her little brother. However, time wasn't frozen, and the mutt moved on to the other members of her family. The next one to be killed was Annie, who fell motionless on the ground.
Her twin, her other half, had just died in front of her in one of the most gruesome ways she had ever seen. Not even when the tribute, from a few years ago, ate the hearts of his victims did she feel that. It was as if her heart was being ripped out of her chest.
A sound between a shriek and a cry left her lips. Perhaps time wasn't frozen, but she was. Her eyes had been long lost, staring at Annie's and Theo's corpses, which lay side by side, as if a part of her own life had died with them. It was such her state that she didn't even realise when the mutt only had her left to kill. Since she didn't move, there was no need to run. It made its way to her. Slowly. As if trying to torture her.
When the mutt was directly in front of her, Olive closed her eyes, ready to die. However, another voice shook her awake, causing her to sit up abruptly, hitting her head with the person trying to wake her up. She fell back again on the pillow, tilting her head to meet Finnick, who was covering his forehead with his hand. The hit had caught him off guard.
"Finnick? What are you doing in my room?" She asked, sitting up carefully and resting her back against the bed's headboard.
"I was pacing around when I heard you screaming. I got worried, so I came in running. You were tossing and turning around as if you were having a nightmare. It didn't matter how many times I tried to shake you awake, you still mumbled 'Annie' and 'Theo'. On and on," he said, taking his hand off his forehead, which was now slightly red from the hit.
"I was mumbling? But I didn't even say anything in the nightmare . . ." she muttered, trying to calm down her sped-up breathing. "I'm alright. It's just that . . . I'm so worried about my family that I can't help but have nightmares about them dying."
"Hey, it's okay. Deep breath in, deep breath out," he comforted her, resting a hand on her back while gesturing with his other to follow his paced breathing. She copied him, taking a couple of minutes before being able to completely breathe with ease. "Perfect. Well, it's not even close to dawn, so I'll get going, OK?"
"No, please, Finnick. Stay a bit longer," she begged, grabbing his sleeve with her hand, to not let him get up. "I don't want to be alone."
He glanced at her, taking a second to think about it before whispering, "Yeah, sure. I'll stay for a bit."