𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐭𝐡𝐫𝐨𝐮𝐠𝐡 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐧𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 | 𝐟𝐢𝐧𝐧𝐢𝐜𝐤 𝐨𝐝𝐚𝐢𝐫

THIRTY-EIGHT

xxxviii. Little Things

Finnick always chose to focus on the little things, for it was the small details, the small moments of satisfaction that made life all the more worth living. It was the way the cool breeze of the waves mingled with the burning heat of the sun's rays. It was the feeling of hearing the quiet hum of Aurora's record player in the empty early mornings. It was the relief of seeing Annie's cheeky smiles and giggles when no one was laughing. It was the small sense of satisfaction at knowing nothing could get any worse.

In the week before the 70th Hunger Games, it was exactly the little things that brought him comfort. More importantly, it was a distraction, not for him, but Aurora. With every single day that passed as they neared the beginning of the games, he made sure to occupy every hour of her day, if only to distract her from the grim illness that visibly infected her from the inside out. The guilt of sending two children into their deaths every year was endlessly growing and festering.

It was the night after they had just arrived with tired sleepless eyes and stained skin from layers upon layers of makeup. Aurora Evans sat at the window of their large apartment, preferring to watch the lights of the city slowly close to dim darkness over the artificial projections. Their tributes were hiding anxiously in their rooms trying to find sleep, while the avoxes and escort had all gone away for the night.

All that was left were the two of them.

She stared at the stars, then down at the buildings before a bitter scent filled her senses. Peculiar, it was. Despite the dark evening, she felt an overwhelming sense morning had come.

With one look behind her, she wasn't surprised to find Finnick Odair walking toward her with dark circles under his eyes mimicking her own, with two steaming mugs in his hands.

"You've got to be kidding me," she muttered out at the sight, the view of the boy seeming more appealing than the one outside the window. "I thought you went to sleep. You were closing your eyes on the train."

Finnick didn't say a word as he sat beside her on the floor, placing the mug beside her legs.

"Coffee?" he simply asked.

Aurora rolled her eyes, pushing the mug away from her while shaking her head. "It's midnight, and you want coffee? Go to sleep," she refrained from calling him an idiot, not finding the situation appropriate.

"I won't sleep until you sleep," he stated as he dreamily stared at the window, glancing over to stare at her whenever she looked away.

She shook her head. "I'm not sleeping."

He took a sure sip of his drink, not at all wincing at the heat. "Then I'm not sleeping either."

Unlike any other woman who she suspected would melt at his words, Aurora was angered. Well, as angered as she could get at the boy she loved so dearly. "I don't want you to babysit me. I'm not going to get myself hurt the second you look away."