DON'T BLAME ME ¦¦ Finnick Odair

𝟎𝟏.

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CHAPTER 1
NEEDLE AND PINE
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Thoryn had never been able to stay away from the Capitol for long. In the beginning, after her victory she had practically been bound there, enraptured amongst the people, like she was one of them. Growing amongst the vines.

At first she had struggled not to suffocate. She had clawed at her throat and tried to rid herself free of the restraints that bound her, but she soon learned the pressure was better than the emptiness.

The emptiness was pitiless. It let you suffer alone. And Thoryn found it was better to suffocate alongside the capitol - even if they were only watching. Sooner or later they would. It was better if she was ready.

It never changed or went away like she thought it would. Whatever it was or whatever happened she always ended there, back into it's hold, back for the next big thing. Even when she was home, away from the eccentricities of Capitol coin and Snow's smile. She would be pulled, tugged, prompted and propelled into the claws of corruption sooner or later.

It was inevitable.

It had been a couple of weeks since she had returned from the Capitol after mentoring for the 74th Annual Hunger Games. She hadn't left the victors village, or even the home she had there since she'd returned. It had been a tiresome games because she had been forced to stay till the end. The red headed tribute, smart as they came, had made it to the very end. Only to die by the hand of a few berries.

What was worse is whenever she returned the district looked at her in shame. Disappointment. As if it was her fault. They might not have been able to reach the rose with their retribution but they could the Thorn.

After Thoryn had won the games she had been happy to come back to her district, relieved to be free, but it wasn't the same as it was anymore. After everything that had happened it was almost worse. She was alone, with no one to drown out her sorrow made it all the worse. And now when she returned all she felt was an emulsified feeling of dread.

She had no one. And although she hated the feeling of being lonely she loved the silence. being able to escape and drown out the noise. It was her favourite past time even if it killed her more than the capitol. The world now was just so loud she liked it when she couldn't hear anything at all.

But she didn't even have that anymore.

Dawn had barely broken, let alone the summit of light just dispersing over the mountains as the blonde strode through the house she was gifted, her slippers slacking against the wood of the floorboards as she headed towards the landing. It was five in the morning. Barely light outside and Thoryn had just woken up, or rather, in shorter terms, been woken up.

She had never slept very well before the games and now not at all, but today she hadn't woken up this early by choice. Her hair was in a messy knot at the back of her head as she strode down the staircase, two steps at a time, her hand on the banister for support. The white paint prickling beneath her fingers.

Thoryn's whole house was white. It was white like the first snow of winter, white like the roses in Snow's garden and white like the pure person she was; supposed to be. It had been that way since she'd moved in, when the designers had been in before she'd even returned home and chosen it all for her.

It was plain with minimal detail. The sort of plain you'd find in a new house; something unowned or untouched. As if it wasn't even owned.

Her eyes flickered towards the paper on the wall as she reached the last step. It was in black and white; covered with roses. An emblem of sorts to remind her of Snow, except on the stems stood large, talon like thorns. Those represented Thoryn, she suspected it was a message to say he was always with her: watching. And that thorns were nothing without their rose and stem.