Sugarcubes // Finnick Odair - Hunger Games Fanfic

XIII.

The suite allotted to the district 7 tributes and mentors has been still and silent the whole day that we were given to prepare for our interviews with Ceasar.

John stays in his room like he always does in the capitol, as far as I know. Johanna is still so angry; at me and at the world in general, that the room seems to fill with hot air as soon as she walks in. She stalks around silently, daring anybody to upset her, but today, nobody seems to have enough energy to do so.

Blight has fallen asleep face down on the dining table and has stayed like that for the entire day.

Rosaline seems to have given up on all of us, as well as projecting her hyper capitol persona, because she is sprawled out on the couch with tear streaks running down her heavily make upped face, although the makeup isn't so visible now; after having applied itself on the couch pillow, she buries her face in.

I have not left my room since Finnick Odair dropped me back here yesterday evening.

I don't need preparation for an interview that will be staged and faked and edited so it seems like I did nothing special; nothing different even if I did pull the energy out of me to rebel.

No.

What I need is time to sort out my head which is bursting full of several different ideas all running in different directions. Thoughts that shouldn't even have been dreamt up are now bouncing around in my brain all revolving the two most problematic men in my life.

My Father

And Finnick Odair.

I never thought I'd group Finnick with my father, but what his simple kiss has done to my state of mind is very similar to what my father took years to do. I can't even turn to anybody for advice about it, because the one person I tell everything to is the person that has left me on my bed for the past 12 hours, paralyzed by my own mind; unable to move.

I knew that I love Finnick. I can't tell anybody when exactly I knew. There were several moments combined that made me feel like he was the only person that I wanted to look at. The only person I wanted to call.

"Uhm, hi?" A shirtless Finnick opened the door, leaning slightly against the door frame looking down at me. I've not changed out of my evening attire, and its late enough to arouse suspicion, but not so late as to suspect an appointment.

"Is anybody there?"

"No."

"Can I come in?" I ask, letting out a small breath, willing myself not to look at his shirtless body, trying to ignore the blush rising in my face.

"Sure," he says, stepping back and letting me step in. "Wanna tell me why you're here?"

I stare at him blankly. To be completely honest? I'm not sure why I'm here. I traveled all the way from district 7 to the capitol, when I'm supposed to be at the mayor's party, just because I knew Finnick was going to be there. I didn't feel like listening to endless rants about things that are supposed to be completely unacceptable but are talked about like they're nothing. Especially after the mayor booked an appointment with me last weekend.

"Ice-cream." I say. I'm lying. He knows.

"Good choice, I just got some new flavors in," he says, ignoring my obvious lie and going to his fridge. "There's some clothes inside if you wanna get changed," he announces to me. I hesitate, but then walk into his room, one that I've been in a lot for the two years that I've known him. There's a shirt, one that he knows I like, and a pair of shorts with a drawstring lying on the bed.

He knew I was coming.

I let out a small, strangled laugh, and tear off my dress, slipping into his clothes. He appears at the door in a moment, holding two bowls of ice cream, and I'm so engrossed in him that I don't even remember the flavors.

I smile at the memories and get up from my place sprawled on my bed. I go to the fridge, and pick up a jar of ice cream, directly attacking it with a large spoon. Everybody else is asleep, Blight still by the dining table, and Johanna at her standard spot on the couch. I sit opposite Blight and gulp down my ice cream silently.

I step out of my house in the freezing cold, rubbing my hands with each other to create some warmth. With Johanna winning her games last year, I've had very little reason to step outside my house. I used to go on these little walks to deliver food to the Masons, but with that gone as well, there's very little things a victor can do.

It's probably why victors need to pick a domestic talent, so they can retain at least whatever sanity was left over after their games. When Snow asked me what mine was going to be, I didn't even have to think about it. Embroidery. Well, more so making clothes. Not the stupid hunger games pageant level clothes made by my new stylist. But real clothing. Like the ones Alexander made for me.

I have a room in my gigantic house filled with fabrics and yarns. It would've been a dream come true to have access to all of that before my games. After? It doesn't seem so important anymore. It seems like a waste of time. But the monotony of stitching and drawing and cutting keeps me out of my head. That's all that we're looking to do really. Be out of our heads for a bit. A bit of peace and quiet. Being a victor makes it almost impossible to achieve that though.

I pile on the last layer of scarves and coats outside the door, packing myself up. I don't have a reason for this excursion as well. I just thought I could use a break from being inside a house which is filled with my thoughts. The house is empty. Both Lia and Danny have gone to Jo's house, something which I am grateful for, for two reasons. Keeping Johanna company mean that she will have no time to be in her head, and it gives me time to be alone without pretending to be okay.

I know the way out of the victor's village by heart, so I am able to look down at the light snow on the ground as I take the steps on my porch to the ground level. As I step off the last step, I bump face to chest into somebody.

I look up, startled, but pause my apology at the sight of his face. Finnick. His cheeks are red from the cold and snowflakes are nested in his curly bronze hair. He smiles softly at the sight of my face, sending red into my cheeks too, but for a completely different reason.

"Fin­-" I start and he grins that mischievous smile at me, so I immediately correct myself. "Four, what're you doing here?"

"You said you were upset." He says, bringing his hands up to his face and blowing in them.

"You came all the way here from Four because I said I was upset on a phone call?" I ask softly, all thoughts of the games expelled from my brain.

"Yeah. Of course. If it could make you feel better id do pretty much anything Kendria. I thought you could use a hug."

"I can, Finnick. Thank you."

I immediately close the gap between us both and wrap my arms around his neck. He pulls me closer by the waist, burying the tip of his nose into my bundle of scarves. 

In all my years I've never felt safer than I feel in his arms. I didn't know back then it was a dangerous feeling to be so attached to somebody.

Iwouldn't trade that memory for the world. Not even for a chance to get out ofthese games. I will cherish that memory till I die. Sadly, because of that verymemory, that is going to be very soon.

Published: 3 January, 2024