The Assassin (Finnick Odair X OC)

Chapter Twenty-four: The Apology

Chapter Twenty-four: The Apology

I stand on the porch for a long moment before I hear some clicks at the door and, a few seconds later, Mags appears. She smiles at me immediately. "Kai! Come in!"

She turns and disappears to the interior of her house and I follow her dutifully, smiling as I survey her home. It seems much smaller than mine, which makes sense because this house was built for one of the first hunger games - long before the rest of Victor's Village was built. She was the 11th winner ever, and the first for our district. I bet they didn't even have a Victor's Village for her.

She walks straight through the house, weaving her way over to a back porch, and holds open the door for me. I walk through it, smiling at her. "Thank you."

"I see that basket." She replies, letting out a throaty chuckle. "I know you're only here for more food."

"Well, it's either you or I brave the markets and get jumped by angry people in District Four." I reply. Her hands move outwards and I hand her the basket. She takes it and nods to her right. "Sit down! Join us."

Us?

My eyes are met immediately with Finnick and I resist the urge to sigh. There is a brief moment of silence and then I nod. Of course, the one day I decided to come and visit Mags, he is here too. "Hi, Finnick."

Finnick is sitting on what looks like an outdoor daybed. His eyes are trained on my figure and, as I greet him, he shifts and sits up a bit, nodding to me as well. "Kai."

His voice is slightly unsure, and it makes an amused snort come from the woman to my left. I look over to her, only to see that she is walking down off her porch and into the surprisingly extensive garden that I came here for. "Any requests, Kai?"

"Nope. All the stuff you gave me last time was lovely, but you can put whatever. I'm not picky." I call after her retreating figure, my eyes flicking over to her before glancing back at Finnick again.

He is still looking at my figure, and my eye contact does nothing but send something that I can't quite read through his eyes.

A moment of silence settles between us before I walk over to him and take a seat on one of the vacant wicker chairs on this porch. "I didn't think you'd be here."

"It's Sunday. We always have breakfast on Sundays." He answers, nodding to the table in front of where he is sitting. My eyes look down to it, and I notice the empty plates and mugs on it and let out a small hum. "How have you been?"

Why is this so painfully awkward?

"The same. I can finally start painting today!" I remark kind of happily. It has been a few days - three to be exact - since I last saw Finnick, and I have done nothing but paint my walls white and wait for them to dry.

He smiles a bit at my enthusiasm. "That's good."

"Yeah. How about you? Been doing anything fun?" I ask.

Finnick shrugs. "Not particularly."

A brief moment of silence settles between us and then I start to chuckle. I don't know why I start to laugh, almost at the humor of this situation, but Finnick does too and, when Mags returns with a full basket for me, we're both holding back full laughter.

She smiles at us. "You two seem to be getting along better."

"No, it's still unbearably awkward. I was right, you know." I reply. She stops in front of me and hands me the basket and I take it with a small smile.

Mags frowns and turns, moving to sit in a rocking chair a few lengths away from me. "Right how?"

"I told you he'd try to make a move." I answer back, chuckling.