The Sterling Nightingale ⟷ Finnick Odair/OC

Inhaling you is like

Chapter Forty Two | Inhaling you is like

"She looked through the tattered curtain, across at the handsome face of her husband, in whose lazy blue eyes, and behind whose inane smile, she could now so plainly see the strength, energy, and resourcefulness which had caused the Scarlet Pimpernel to be reverenced and trusted by his followers." Emma Orczy, The Scarlet Pimpernel

District 13 is ever the strange, unlikely place it had been when Finnick first opened his eyes to it. After a week of living there, it has still not gotten any less strange.

He has been assigned a room and a job. His room is in the same wing as his fellow Victors, and is a tiny square-by-square container that holds a bed and a dresser and nothing else. His job isn't so much a job as it is a training regime. Coin wants him on the front lines, and so she sends him down to learn how to handle a gun – a weapon Finnick has never before even held.

Guns are expensive and only Peacekeepers have them. They are kept under careful lock and key so they don't fall into the hands of anyone outside the police force. But here in District 13, everyone knows how to shoot one. Even young kids go down to the training area with their parents or friends. It is as common as breathing here, and Finnick is a just tiny bit embarrassed that a thirteen year old boy seems to have more talent with firing than he does. Of course, he picks it up soon enough. He is Finnick Odair, after all, and he's got very good aim from hurling tridents around his whole life.

"You're getting better," Katniss says as she approaches him, decked out in her navy jumpsuit. Her hair is swinging at her back in a loose braid. Some of it has gotten free and frames her face in gentle tendrils.

His living quarters and job aren't the only things that have changed in Finnick's life. He, too, has been given several jumpsuits. Gone are the days of having a full wardrobe. Now every article of clothing he owns is navy blue and identical to everyone else. It's disconcerting.

Sil would be utterly horrified.

The thought sweeps through him so suddenly that his breath catches. These types of thoughts have been recurring as of late, and they always take him aback because right after he thinks them, he realizes that Sil would probably not even care. After all, she's not the foppish socialite he always assumed her to be: she's the Sterling Nightingale, and the Nightingale wouldn't think twice about wearing a scratchy jumpsuit if it meant she is doing something to bring down the Capitol.

That is even more disconcerting.

He glances at Katniss with a grimace that's mostly due to his wayward thought process, but she takes it to mean something different, which he is grateful for.

Nodding at his target, Katniss says, "You're doing better than I did, when I first started. Don't worry, it'll come to you quickly enough."

Finnick can't help but chuckle. He shakes himself of his thoughts of Sil and focuses on the task at hand, muttering, "You seem weirdly happy today. Are you feeling alright?" She scowls at him and he laughs outright. "That's better. Now you look like the Katniss I know."

With a roll of her eyes, Katniss says, "I'm trying to feel grateful that I'm here. That I'm alive."

Finnick makes a sound in the back of his throat and murmurs, "But you're not, are you? Peeta's not himself and it's making you crazy."

She doesn't answer and he knows he's hit the truth right on the head. For all her dark, brooding qualities, he's always found Katniss to be incredibly easy to read.

"I don't see you acting any better," she says after a long pause. Finnick raises an eyebrow at her. She spears him with a look and adds, "Sil's in the Capitol and that's making you crazy."