Fame • Finnick Odair

0 1 7

[ edited ]

Running. Heart beating, legs burning, head pounding, her breaths are uneven as she staggers her way through the jungle on a bleeding leg, a Career right on her tail.

Layers of sweat and dirt and blood cover her skin, the blood from her own wounds, the blood of her victims, it didn't matter anymore. She was moments from dying anyway.

She's tackled to the ground suddenly, she tries to move, tries to escape. The image in her mind is fuzzy, the career tribute's face keeps contorting into the face of Enobaria with her sharp teeth who had killed her sister.

Lyra shot up out of bed, gasping for air. She calmed quickly when she realised she was in a bed and safe, for now. She needed to take advantage of any safety available because it would soon be taken away.

She washed her face with cold water before leaving her room to see if anyone else was up to entertain her so she wouldn't be left with her own thoughts alone.

She saw Dylan getting a glass of milk, "hey."

The boy jumped, spinning on his heel to face her, holding a carton of milk in hand. "Woah, woah. I come in peace, you can put the milk down. Really, i'd never get the smell outta my hair."

"Why are you up?" he asked, his voice tired.

"Oh, you know, just wanted to take a walk. Stretching the legs, the usual." Dylan just nodded with a soft grin. "What're you thinking for allies then?"

Dylan looked surprised at the question but answered anyway, "not the careers for sure. Not that they'd take me anyway. What about you? I'm sure anyone would be happy to have you."

"Jealousy isn't a good luck on you," she smirks.

"Sorry, I don't mean it like that, it's just-" he sighs, thinking of what to say. "They're gonna come for me. I don't want to be their ally, but i'm a big guy, i'm strong. But i'm useless. They'll come after me and they'll get me. Eliminate an easy threat."

"Then why don't we be allies?" Dylan raised his eyebrows with a look of suspicion on his face. "Don't look at me like that, i'm serious. I don't want to ally with the Careers, I'm not one of them. I don't believe murdering is anything to be proud of. Besides, if i'm gonna have an ally, it needs to be someone trustworthy. Can I trust you?"

"Yes, you can. But why would you want me as an ally? I have nothing to offer," he shakes his head as he speaks.

"Not true. We can take turns sleeping, more rest and less stress. We can watch each other's backs, safer than being alone," she lists.

"What about the careers targeting me?" he wonders.

"Are you kidding? The second I refuse their alliance, I'll be on top of their kill list. I already have the biggest target imaginable on my back, all because of my surname."

"Okay...I'm useless with weapons, what help would I be?" he raises his eyebrows at her.

"You'll learn some things, I'll help teach you, we have three days training," she counters.

With every answer, he found another excuse that he's no good, "I don't have any knowledge about plants or mutts or anything."

"That's fine, I do. I'll be the nerd, you be the jock," she smirks.

"Okay," he finally agrees.

"Okay?" He nods. "Good, now get some sleep, jock."

"G'night, nerd." He smiled softly before leaving with his milk back to his room.

"Smart choice."

It took everything Lyra had not to jump at the sudden arrival of Finnick Odair. "Hey there Peacock, mind making your presence known next time?"

"No can do, Freckles. Why you up?" he walked closer.

"Guess," there was a hint of playfulness in Lyra's blue eyes.

"Hmm, monster under your bed?" Finnick's expression feigns seriousness.

"Nope, left her at home," Lyra replies sombrely.

"Urmm, had a craving for snails?" he clicks his fingers like he knows his guess is accurate.

"Never, ever, in my entire existence will I ever eat a snail," she shudders at the thought.

"So you don't like mussels? Oysters?" he questions.

"No, I do," is her reply.

"But they're both—you know what, never mind," he surrenders, his hands up in the air.

Lyra shrugs, "i'm a complex character, what more can I say?"

After a moment of quiet, Finnick says, "oh! I've got it, you're planning Havana's death?"

"Ding, ding, ding, we have a winner," she smirks back.

There's a moment of silence before he speaks again. "You seem pretty... upbeat for someone who has obviously just woke up from a nightmare." He adds some humour through his serious tone, "I mean, why else would you be out here? You could plot her death in your room."

"There's not enough room for my thoughts in there," she dodged the upcoming question.

"Lyra-"

"What did you mean by smart choice?" she cuts him off.

He sighs in defeat, not able to avoid the question as a mentor, "allying with Dylan. I would've recommended it to you in private soon. He seems to be a good guy, I believe he's trustworthy. Has nothing to loose making him loyal. He's strong, could act like a bodyguard and scare threats away and you'll be safer. And, with some training, I think he could be really helpful. You can help each other in there. Besides, like you said, it's always good to have someone to watch your back and take watches."

"How long exactly were you watching?" she raises an eyebrow at him.

"Not long... just the entire time," he shrugged. "I'll let you 'stretch your legs'," he quotes from her conversation with Dylan. "You're good at dodging questions, I'll give you that. It might come in handy for interviews and stuff."

He walked down the corridor and to his room but not before saying, "get some sleep, Trouble."

Lyra was left to her own thoughts, something she truly despised to the point of fear.

Her mind begged for Finnick or Dylan or Mags to appear from their rooms, hell, she'd rather make sarcastic or mean comments at Havana than be alone. She hated being alone.

Finnick's question about her unusually normal behaviour after a nightmare was completely justified but in truth, her answer was that she was used to them. It didn't seem to have affected her because she was used to the scarring images haunting her sleep. She was used to the anxiety and fear that devoured her when she'd close her eyes. The blanket of unease that would encase her when she woke.

The feeling of nightmares was nothing new for the Holland girl and that was just the harsh truth of being a Victor's child.