𝗟𝗜𝗧𝗧𝗟𝗘 𝗦𝗣𝗔𝗥𝗞 ᐅ 𝙛𝙞𝙣𝙣𝙞𝙘𝙠 𝙤𝙙𝙖𝙞𝙧

𝙎𝙄𝙓𝙏𝙀𝙀𝙉

⌌⊱⇱⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷⊷⊶⊰⌍
I like your dress,
by the way.
⌎⊱⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷⊷⊶⇲⊰⌏

For the next two days, dread fizzed in my stomach relentlessly. The constant fear of Snow's awareness and the consequences that would follow plagued my mind, but selfishly, it wasn't just that. I'd made a deal with him. A separate deal. I would be free only if I stayed in line. The promise of freedom still hung in the balance.

I'd just finished the tour of District One, and I was awash with confusion at the differences between it and Twelve and One. It was astounding: District One was characterised by wealth, power and prosperity, while District Twelve was poverty, plea and sickness. My golden dress trailed behind me as I walked down the hall that led to the occasions room of District One, my legs peeping through the slits in the sides, as though at any point I could be launched into a fight. The only sound that could be heard was the monotonous clicking of my heels on the cold floor, and yet that sound alone made me clench my fists. I was with no one. How easy would it be for Snow to dispose of me?

I watched the peacekeepers guarding the lark metallic doors to the ballroom carefully, watching them shift slightly from foot to foot with their gazes locked straight ahead, just like they were trained to do. They're trained to be killers. So what made me think I could have any hope against them? My fingers grazed the dagger hidden on my thigh, letting out a short breath. It was there. I could use it.

And the fact that Finnick wasn't there?

I tucked my hands behind my back to conceal their shaking.

Finnick disappeared for two days without so much as a note. But I trusted him. He wouldn't just leave after the conversation we'd had nights ago — he was too considerate for that. Then where did he go? The gash on my neck was still healing, although during my time in the other Districts I had to cover it with outfits that were high enough to conceal the ripped skin and gauze. But tonight it was as though it never happened. It was concealed with special effects, so no suspicions would be raised. Though I suppose covering my neck would certainly help my case where Finnick was concerned; the Capitol were always so good at fabricating stories from nothing.

The closer I got to visiting my District, the more and more the pressure on my chest lifted. I could see my family, my friends and the ruse would be over. I'd wanted for so long to get out of it, following its rules begrudgingly, but only now when freedom was so close did I realise just how much I wanted it to continue. Even if he didn't care for me as strongly... Even if he didn't like me at all.

"Name," the Peacekeeper to my left demanded.

The colour white had always been synonymous with danger, the hate pooling through the brightness, concealed by a colour meant to mean purity. Perhaps that's why they were dressed in it. To remind us that there is no goodness here — all the morals of the world were suffocated by the insufferable darkness. My back went rigid.

I rolled my eyes. "You know my name."

"Name."

"This is ridiculous—"

"I'll be a pain in your ass in a second," a deep voice behind me said with a bitter laugh. How had I not heard him coming up behind me? As he passed, Finnick brushed his fingers against mine, and wrapped them in his own. He held my hand firmly as he smirked at them. "I'm being sarcastic, honey. Take a joke."

I almost laughed. Who calls a Peacekeeper honey?

"Name," the Peacekeeper asked for the third time, much more irritated now Finnick had provoked him like that.  I could almost see his disgust through the mask. It was putrid.