𝐌𝐈𝐃𝐍𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓 𝐅𝐔𝐍
Melo had once told Dove about what awaited beyond the horizon. The paradise that hid cleverly from the greedy human eye. He was certain people lived there, near the end of the rainbow and under the sun's bed. They were children, clueless to the reality of the future. No haven awaited their arrival, nor did their prospects of venturing to it ever improved. At eleven years old, Melo had already given up on that dream, forcefully dragging Dove to the pit of deception. The paradise he had promised, the place where her parents had to be, where she belonged, got taken away by the very person who had given it to her. Instead of paradise, Dove discovered at the young age of eight years old the meaning behind her label—adopted.
Five years had gone by since then. Dove no longer resented her brother for such childish dreams, much less believed in a world beyond the sea. However, her indifference washed away with the waves of sunlight dancing across the morning sky, bringing back the warm feeling she had left behind so long ago. Not for some paradise she could never reach, but for her brother's awaited arrival.
The Victor Tour was over. District Four's train station had an entire crowd ogling the line where the train tracks and the outline of the woods collided, chatting with great excitement for their victor's return. However, nobody could ever equal the family's eagerness. Dove could feel it too well thanks to her sister's grip on her hand. The Peacekeepers could shoot up the place, and Angel wouldn't budge, let alone let go.
They weren't left to stand idly for long. The train pulled up in District Four's station among the expecting silence of the crowd. Whatever rules or procedures the victors had to go through, Melo ignored them all. He ran down the steps to his family and pulled Dove into a trembling embrace.
"What happened?" Melo whispered. "Are you alright? I heard you're ill. Please, tell me it's nothing serious."
"I don't want to lie to you," Dove replied. "But the medicine's working. I'm better now."
It took her brother a minute to ask, "Promise?"
She smiled up at him with confidence. "Promise."
Back and prepared for the Capitol's scheduled program, Melo let go of Dove to greet the cameras and crowd surrounding them. Angel joked about that, saying how he had completely ignored her, but that she understood since Dove was also her favourite sibling. Laughter echoed near the cameras. The live Capitol audience seemed to enjoy its show. What mattered if there was a family in that same district or in others crying the deaths of their children at that very moment? Who cared? Melo Ogilvy had deviated from his mother's footsteps and provided Panem with a great showcase of strength, and, Dove dared to guess, attractiveness.
The makeshift of a peaceful day died down at nightfall. The Ogilvy's household, which had filled its quiet confines with whatever appeared on television, had to face silence in its entire glory when its members failed to overcome their exhaustion.
Dove tossed and turned in bed, every blink bringing back memories of her brother's Games. She saw Joseph's body lying in her brother's arms, Melo's tears staining his friend's lifeless face. The hatred in her brother's eyes was too much to watch, especially when it got directed at her. It was clear he hated her. If only Angel had been called, Dove would have volunteered, and she would have been in that position instead of him. He was never meant to suffer; she was. How could she live with herself after what she had done to him?
The eerie quietness that drowned her home welcomed Dove back to reality. Her breaths picked up to match her raging heartbeat. She tried to get up but couldn't. There was no strength left in her arms. When she lay on her side, watching the time fly by on the clock next to her bed, tears that she couldn't control drenched her pillow. Her brother's nightmares overlapped with her thunderous thoughts, draining her self-control to give her strength a short boost.
Before she could regain sense over what she was doing, Dove picked her boots and put on her coat, ready to sneak out. The beach was just at sight-length when her first conscious thought appeared in her mind—Finnick was nowhere to be seen. She sat on the sand, waiting, turning around at every sound, and admiring the waves crashing on the rocks nearby.
Divided between idly waiting for someone who could very well not show up or distracting herself to keep her mind from recalling her nightmares, Dove took off her boots and glanced at the town behind her. Nobody to be seen. She left her boots next to the coat on the sand and stepped closer to the water. The midnight breeze flowed around her, something she had missed greatly for the past two weeks.
Two arms took a hold of her waist, pulling her up just as her feet had reached the water. Before gently releasing her onto her feet, the person took a few steps back. However, both arms were still locked around her waist, almost fearful to let go.
"Why are you here?!" Finnick's voice faltered for a moment. "Are you alright?"
"I thought I wouldn't see you." Dove turned around, still in Finnick's trembling grasp, but couldn't quite see his face. "It's been a while."
"Yeah, well," he huffed, letting go only for as long as it took him to retrieve her coat and laying it over her shoulders, "I had a sickly idiot that was worrying me out of my mind, so I hadn't thought to come here. Luckily, I saw them sneaking out of their own house."
She chuckled at his remark. Ready to play along. "Hey, I'm no idiot."
"Says the idiot who got permission to leave her house—today, may I add—and immediately left her own house without saying a word to anybody to come to the beach at night." Finnick took a deep breath in, his rant nowhere half finished. "Besides, you walked into the water? It's freezing! And you weren't even wearing your coat. Will I have to tell on you to get you to stay still? 'Cause I will!"
Dove's cheeks flushed red, making her thank the beach for its poor illumination. "You wouldn't."
"Don't bet on it," he replied calmly.
With a playful chuckle, Dove settled down near her boots and invited him to sit beside her, patting the empty space on her right. Finnick agreed reluctantly. He would rather take her home, where he thought it would be warmer and by far more comfortable, but Dove was too stubborn to give in just yet. When he sat next to her, she slid her arms around him and rested her head on his shoulder without a care in the world. He hugged her back, pulling her closer as he lay his head over hers.
"I'll volunteer during the next reaping," she whispered.
That turned Finnick's blood cold. "You... Why?"
"President Snow visited me last week." Dove leaned closer to Finnick, leaving not a millimetre of distance between them as she continued to explain. "He... well, I learned a lot thanks to our conversation."
"Is Angel...?" Finnick couldn't find the heart to continue the question.
Dove nodded faintly. "She'll be called."
"There has to be another way," he said immediately. "There has to be something we can do."
"President Snow already made sure that there's none. If it isn't me, there will be no third consecutive victor for our district. He'll tamper with Angel's results, I'm sure. Maybe have the Gamemakers kill her directly." Dove paused. "He could even keep her alive until the last two, just to give us hope, and then kill her. I'm sure watching my family's reaction to that will be hilarious to him."
"Watching? What do you mean?" Finnick asked, growing anxious about her silence.
"There have to be cameras at Victor's Village. Maybe not inside the houses, but I'm sure there has to be some outside," she replied. "It isn't the only place either... He knows we meet here, Finnick. I bet there must be cameras somewhere."
"Did he tell you?" he asked.
"Without beating around the bush," she assured. "He shouldn't have, really. Or, well, to that he could have added that while he can see us, he can't hear us. You'd think that, if you want to make some sickly child a victor, you'd use the story of how she went to find her 'real' parents against her. I'd do anything just so Angel and Melo never found out."
"You're risking a lot." Finnick sighed while raising his head. "Go home first, Dove. Neither of us could live with ourselves if something happened to Angel because we didn't listen to a warning."
Desperation locked into Dove's very being. Her hands gripped onto her friend's jacket, threatening to never letting go no matter what could happen. However, she had to understand why he would suggest such a thing. She had hardly explained anything to him. If it had been her, she would have told him to go away, too.
"He said he'd let us meet outside the public eye," she blurted. "But I wasn't supposed to tell you about me volunteering... I'm sorry. I just... You're the only one I can talk with about these kinds of things... And I just wanted you to know, because I know. I know what the victor's deals are. And if you ever need to talk about it..."
"You know that I..." Finnick trailed off, his trembling voice at par with his faltering grip. "How are you not disgusted?"
"Because I know there's people you've got to protect." She paused. "People you may not consider family, but for better or for worse, still are... I can't promise it'll be alright, but you have no clue how much I wish I could."
Finnick's hands, still trembling with worry, clenched her coat as he regained the strength he had lost. Their hug gained a sense of comfort it hadn't before. It could be driven by desperation and fear, but those had them clinging onto one another as if they found themselves at the edge of a cliff. The situation stunned Dove, who took considerably longer to correspond to the desperation. She doubted anybody had ever shown half the trust that the hug symbolised to her. If it weren't for the unfairness of it all, she would have allowed herself to cry without restraint in his arms. But she couldn't. Not without making something clear first.
"You aren't what the Capitol wants you to be." Doubting how to convey her point beyond her words, Dove stroke Finnick's hair with care, like many times her sister had done to her. "You're sweet, caring, and pretty smart yourself. If I can say that, and I've only known you for so long, imagine what Melo could say. There's so much more to yourself than the character you have to play. That's how it works over in the Capitol, anyway. Neither of us would say that Melo is a cocky brat, would we?"
"He's a brat sometimes," he mumbled, making Dove repress a chuckle.
"He might be, but that's not all there is to him." Though she smiled up at him, there was no telling if, despite their closeness, he could see that at all. "And neither is it for you."
"Are you implying that I'm a brat?"
"I'm trying to cheer you up!" She huffed. "But, for your information, youarea brat sometimes."
"Well, that'sdefinitelynot cheering me up."
"Oh, I amso very muchsorry. I'm not good at friends, so I didn't know I had to lie."
Though the shakiness in his grip wouldn't dissipate, Dove heard a faint chuckle. It seemed odd that such a gentle sound could feel rewarding. Of course, being pleased at helping a friend was a standard that even she knew about, but there was something else mixed with it. A sense of affection that she had never encountered before. It worried her for a moment. President Snow had been clear that any feelings between them, real or made up by the own Capitol, could only put their lives in jeopardy. However, if that was the case, why let them meet? What if, at some point, both of them developed romantic feelings for one another and stepped over the line?
The answer was painfully obvious. President Snow desired such an outcome to an extent. The people Finnick fought to protect wouldn't live forever, much less was it a guarantee that he would ever go back on his part of the deal and allow them to get killed. If things continued as they were, her name would be added to the list, securing one of Snow's best puppets.
There was no love between them, at the very least not the romantic kind, but even Dove could tell it was too late to do something about it. Putting distance between them would only push them to a worse state than what they had before meeting each other. She couldn't turn her back on him. How heartless would that be? No excuses would suffice. Neither was it guaranteed to help. If her name was never added, and Finnick chose not to follow his deal, the demand for him would not end easily. And then, what would President Snow do? Definitely not ignore the Capitol and their whims. Either something other would come up to put back the leash around Finnick's neck, or the Capitol's Darling would suffer a tragic death.
"I don't like when you're this quiet," Finnick said, his hands somewhat less shaky. "Especially when you're lost in thought. You always look like you're trying to figure something out."
"Now you stalk me?" Dove asked playfully. "It's just... I'm worried that everything that's happening will makehimuse me against you."
"He could make it look like it, but he can't touch you, especially when you become a victor," said Finnick. "Still, it wouldn't matter. I'll protect you."
She chucked softly. "Thank you. I'll protect you too."
"Oh, I feel so much better," he replied playfully.
Dove gave him a gentle push, which he used as an opportunity to fall down with her. What was meant as a simple joke turned against him in no time. Neither had noticed the high tide until the moment the water reached them. Finnick jumped as the water caressed his head and neck, dropping Dove off of him involuntarily. She laughed without a care, watching as he stared down at his drenched shirt.
She got up quickly while trying to copy his usual Capitol tone to mock him, "Enjoyed your bath?" When Finnick looked in her direction, the faint outline of a smile brightened by the moonlight, a shiver ran down her spine. "Oh, that can't be good."
Finnick grabbed a hold of her arm before she could even attempt to run, which her body was in no way recovered enough to do. "Oh honey, you didn't think I'd let you go like that, right? Why don't you have a bath, too?" Despite her weak struggle, he got to take the coat off her shoulders and toss it over to the side, where it wouldn't get soaked. "I was about to say that you could walk there yourself, but you're ill. I can't possibly make you exert yourself."
"Do not—" But he didn't listen, and picked her up in his arms, ready to march towards the water. "I swear. Let me down!"
Though he paused at first contact with the freezing water, Finnick kept on walking until the water reached his waist, where he halted. "Ready?"
"Ready for what?" Dove asked, yet got no answer. "Finnick! Ready for what?"
Without uttering another word, Finnick let go of her, watching as she fell into the water. He stood there for a moment, waiting for her to rise to help her out. But Dove didn't appear and his mind was raging with worry. He bent down, swinging his hands in the water to search for her, but he wasn't given much time. He got pushed, making him stumble and fall. When he surfaced, Dove was already waiting with a pleased smile on her face.
"Now we're even."