Heart of Gold • Finnick Odair

-37-

ROSALIE POV

I had only gotten a small amount of sleep when I woke again, surprisingly free from nightmares. It's seems when you're in the arena, you don't dream of nightmares when you sleep because the nightmare begins when you open your eyes.

I lie completely still with my eyes closed in hopes that unconsciousness will take me again. I listen in to the conversation between Katniss and Finnick, finding some contentment in the sound of his voice. Knowing he's alive and safe. Ish.

"How's Peeta?" Finnick asks the Girl on Fire.

Katniss pauses for a second, unsure how to respond to Finnick as the boy had sounded genuinely concerned. "He's okay I think. Just dehydrated like the rest of us." She seems to pause now because of uncertainty as to whether or not she should say what's on her mind. "How's Rosalie? Y'know, with the whole Chaff thing. And she hit her back earlier too right?"

"Physically, she's okay, she's tough. Chaff's another thing though, she was a daughter to him. She needs to grieve but it's not exactly the place to do so," Finnick replies distastefully, irritated that I can't have a moments privacy to mourn my mentor.

The Panem anthem sounds and I pretend it's what has 'awoken' me. I sit up further and see Peeta and Mags open their eyes too.

I internally sigh in relief when I see Johanna is still alive. District 11, Chaff, comes up and I whistle the work tune softly as I hold a hand on my heart subtly. There's no denying it's a beautiful sound, I have been singing the four notes for the majority of my life.

I exchange a look with a concerned looking Finnick as Katniss states there were eight dead.

"Mmm-mmm," was Finnick's distracted reply, his eyes not leaving my face.

The electronic chiming of a sponsor gift snatches us all from our thoughts as the parachute comes into site, holding a previous silver sphere beneath it.

"Whose is it, do you think?" Katniss questions.

"No telling," says Finnick. "Peeta can claim it, he did die today and all," he smirks.

Peeta opens it and carefully pulls out a hollow metal tube, tapered slightly at one end and curving downward on the other like a tap. I recognise it almost immediately but nobody else seems to as Katniss asked cluelessly, "anyone know?"

"It's a spile." All eyes turn to me. "It's sorta like a tap. You put it in a tree, you'd preferably want to drill a hole with your knife first, then something comes out. What you get depends on the tree. Some sap. Some water."

Katniss does as I told her after I'd passed her one of my knives. She drills a hole before wedging the spile in with a rock. At first, there's nothing. Then a drop. One single drop falls onto Peeta's hand.

After some adjusting a steady stream of, slightly warm but fresh, water comes out.

Katniss takes the first sip followed by Peeta. Finnick nudges me to go next so I do. Whilst Finnick is getting a drink, I grab one of our woven bowls and bring it up. I fill it with water and pass it to Finnick whilst I wash my hands and face. Peeta gives me a happy smile, like a small puppy would, as he copies my movements with the bowl and takes it down towards our camp.

Once we all feel more cleaned and refreshed, Katniss takes the spile out and places it back into the sphere that she'd attached to her belt.

She moves to give me the knife back but I merely shake my head, "you keep it, I have more." I trace my fingers along the other two knives on my belt as Katniss nods gratefully before leaving to lie beside Peeta to rest. Finnick had volunteered to take watch so I thought I'd join him.

I sit beside him against a tree trunk and he immediately wraps an arm round my shoulder, his trident in the other hand, and placed a kiss on the top of my head whispering, "you okay?"

I just nod, "a little better now." He smiles at that. Not a Capitol smile, but a real Finnick smile that creates a jubilant feeling to rise in my stomach. I rest my head against his body and we seem to melt into each other like a jigsaw. I fall asleep on his shoulder, feeling the safest I have since the games had begun.

When I wake up, I tell Finnick to get some rest. He took a moment to ponder it but agreed in the end, the exhaustion too strong to fight.

He lay his head in my lap, though he still had a vicelike grip on his trident like I do my spear. With my free hand, I absentmindedly rub my fingers through his bronze hair whilst my eyes flicker through the jungle around us, ready to spot any threats.

The action of me messing with his hair caused him to let out a small groan as if the tension of the day was leaving his body. His figure relaxed and his grip intended on the trident slightly. I glanced down for a moment to find he'd fallen asleep. He looked so at peace like this. His lips forming a minuet smile as he thinks of happy things in his dreams for once, his eyes were closed but still showing no distress beneath the eyelids, and his expressionless face was free of creases between his brows.

During my watch an alarm of sorts goes off in long bursts, waking everyone from their slumbers. Finnick almost shot right up from my lap but had refrained from doing so when he saw my face and that I was in no danger or harm.

"I counted twelve," I announce, having been awake for them all.

"Midnight," Finnick mumbles in his morning voice now he's sat upright.

"Or the number of districts," Katniss suggests.

Just as she finished speaking an electric sound began, somewhat similar to that of a machine powering up, followed shortly by pounding thunder and multiple lightning strikes to one tall tree specifically in the distance.

Katniss stretches her arms slightly before turning her attention to me, "you can get some rest now if you like, i'll take over."

I nod in thanks as she swaps places with us. Peeta and Mags went back to sleep in the hut whilst Finnick helped me up, due to my aching back, and leads me halfway between the hut and the slight hill Katniss sits on. He sits with his back against another tree and one leg crossed whilst the other stays upright and pulls me to his side once i've joined him on the floor.

With one arm round my shoulder and one holding his trident in his lap, I rest my head onto his shoulder. I had my spear still in my own hand, paranoid in my sleep, and one hand gently stroking Finnick's knee of his upright leg causing him to relax slightly.

However, the peace doesn't last long. It never does.