invisible string | f. odair

prologue.

Every year, before the Reaping, Finnick would sit on a bench just by the registration area.

On the year of the 65th Hunger Games, a girl with soft brown hair and big blue eyes walked up to him. Her pale yellow sundress matched the white hydrangea resting in her hair.

Noticing Finnick's sullen look, the girl took out the pin and flower from her hair, placing it on Finnick's shirt.

She smiled and whispered, "no matter what happens, I believe that the odds will be in your favor."

He looked at the flower in shock. When he had looked up to say thank you, the girl was gone.

And it was then that he realized, he never got her name.

—

Finnick had emerged victorious from the 65th Hunger Games. Luckily—or unluckily—enough, the odds had been in his favor, just like the girl said.

The following year, just before the reaping he sat on the same bench.

And the girl had stood in front of him, donning a baby blue dress and daisy in hand.

She pinned it on his shirt and quietly spoke, "you'll get through this."

And when he had looked up to speak to her, she had gone like the wind.

He still didn't know her name.

—

On the year of the 67th Hunger Games, he had taken his chances by taking a seat on the same bench.

The brunette smiled down at him and placed a pink and yellow dahlia on his lap.

He looked up at her with a slight smile on his face. She was wearing a light pink dress that flowed with the passing wind.

Just as he was about to speak, she hurried away.

Finnick still had no idea who she was.

—

On the year of the 68th Hunger Games, Finnick opted to do his usual routine—sit on the bench to get some fresh air.

Just as he had taken a deep breath, the girl stood in front of him. She looked like the epitome of purity in her white dress.

She grinned, whispering a small "hello," before placing a white gardenia in his chest pocket—it matched the one in her hair.

Before he could say his thanks, she had already walked away and fallen in line for the reaping.

Everleigh Hart stood centerstage, with Finnick just a few steps behind her. Her hair had glittered a bright orange and her puff sleeves stood out farther than the arm's reach of a child.

"The time has come for us to select one brave young man and woman for the honor of representing District Four at the 68th Hunger Games. Let's pick the men first this time..."

Finnick held his breath as Everleigh dipped her hand into the bowl of names. It was never easy to see someone so young lose their innocence to the arena.

"...Casimir Barlowe! Congratulations, my dear."

Finnick let out his breath before taking another deep inhale.

"And now for the ladies..."

Everleigh's hand fishes around the bowl.

"Diana Hunt! Congratulations, dear. Please come up to the stage."

A girl in a white dress flowed down the aisle. As she reached the stage and held hands with the male tribute, the crowd cheered for them.

As they turned around, Finnick finally looked up.

It was her—the flower girl.