The Reaper | F. Odair (COMPLETED)

Nineteen

Warning for this chapter: Mentions of self harm, death threats, suicide and minor gaslighting

Finnick Odair looked like a walking corpse. The beautiful and perfect smile he had was gone, never coming out. The prideful stance he once walked with that made eyes turn his way was gone and replaced with not a proud looking man, but the shell of a teenage boy in a twenty-four year old's body, slumped forward and sadder than death himself. His bronze hair was greasy looking and untouched by a comb or brush, his skin was pale and sickly to where the bruises and cuts came quicker than they healed -- the new ones being obvious the second they're formed. He was faintly thinner, but still managed to somehow keep healthy with the support of the few kind ones in 13.
Pills did nothing, attempts of therapy did nothing -- no matter how many times he punched the walls or cut and hurt himself, nothing seemed to help him ignore the pain inside. Even when he had arrived in 13, mere days after being there he found himself straddling Alex to the floor in the cafeteria beating him senselessly for telling him to 'quit being stupid' by the man. Finnick couldn't sleep either. He spent nights wandering around from the insomnia he was receiving, the nightmares getting worse and worse anytime he shut his eyes -- the bags just grew. Some of the girls in 13 did swoon and cry over Finnick, but their little-crushes only faded as the days grew into weeks, the loving  feelings they had grew into more worried looks and aching hearts at the sight of a shattered man. How could a perfect man be so depressed?

His green eyes slowly lurk towards the center of the cafeteria as he slowly tunes back into the lively setting. People were chatting, everyone was so lively and happy, enjoying their trays of food and tables of people. He slowly pulls his head up from his arms and his eyes set on the girl in front of him.
Katniss was staring down at her untouched tray of food -- no matter how much Gale urged her to eat, she, like Finnick, had no appetite. It was as if a piece of her inside was torn away, she knew it was gone, but she didn't know how to get it back. She was stressed about Peeta being kidnapped, yet she was even more stressed by them all urging the Mockingjay title onto her -- becoming the face of a fight she didn't even want. Was there even a point to fight? They've heard nothing in over a month now.

They could be dead for all they knew.

Gale's dark eyes drift up to Finnick for a moment. Their eyes lock before Finnick rolls his own, his chin dropping into his arms once again. Gale sighs as his eyes drift back down to the poor tray of food, the thing Katniss had called a 'meal' was no more than an apple and a piece of bread that she had grabbed. "You should try eating." he mumbles, pushing the tray towards her.

Katniss sighs and shakes her head, pushing the tray away and crossing her arms.

Gale's eyes drift back towards Finnick once again. The two victors shared the same look in their eye -- this blank look, an empty look. It was as if the life they once had was just sucked out of them. Gale's dark eyes were screaming at Finnick's, screaming at him to do something, to say something -- but he got nothing.

This seemed to be the only time they left their rooms, or were seen in public at all, but it was almost like they just somehow died even more just by coming out of their dark spaces.

Gale sighs. "Please?"

"I'm not hungry..." Katniss mutters as her head slowly drops.

"You need to eat something..."

"No point..." Finnick mutters, his eyes drifting again. "Can't make... her..." he slowly stops as a man appears next to them.

"Katniss, you're needed." the man says quietly, eying the two men.

"She just barely got back from district 12--"

"Coin wants her now." The man cuts Gale off. Gale frowns as the girl stands up, following the older man out of the room.