I Want What I Can't Have

No Blood On His Hands

We got out quickly. I dragged Finnick away, Snow couldn't find us here. I led Finnick from the building and got yet another taxis to take us away. Finnick wasn't doing well. The journey back it was almost like he was in a trance, he just stared into space, looking like an empty void. All light from his eyes was drained. I didn't know what to do. So I just sat there, any sort of comfort was difficult to offer, because I didn't know what he needed.

Once we got back, I helped Finnick back to his floor, where he immediately grabbed the red wine and a glass.

"Finn," I murmured, "you don't want to do that."

"I do," he said.

"Finnick, you're going to make yourself ill," I replied, pulling the glass away gently.

"Please Flaire," he choked, "give me the glass. I need it."

"You're going to regret it," I said, giving it back to him.

He didn't say anymore and poured himself a full glass. He began to drink it. One sip. Two sips, three and so on until it was drained. He went to pour another but I put my hand on his.

"Don't," I warned.

"I want to!" He yelled at me, snatching the bottle back.

"Finnick, he's hurt you and he's hurt me but wine isn't taking that away," I said.

"Yes it is," he snapped back, "for now."

"Exactly, do you want to end up like Haymitch?" I asked.

"No, but I need it tonight," he said.

"Please Finnick," I whispered.

He responded with pouring the second glass and downing it before pouring a third.

"You're going to be hungover," I said.

"Like I've never been before," he scoffed, taking a gulp.

"Finnick, listen to yourself," I pleaded, "stop drinking."

"No Flaire, you don't know how I feel, you don't love anyone," he shouted.

"I love you!" I screamed back.

"Then let me drink," he laughed cockily.

I was in shock. What had I just done to myself. He was drunk though, he wouldn't remember right? I shut up and sat on the sofa, now hoping he'd drink more. And he did. He drank a lot more. It took seven big glasses of red wine for him it pass out. Luckily it was on the sofa. I quickly grabbed a bucket and put it on the floor beside him, put a glass of water on the coffee table and put a blanket over him. Then I lay curled up on the other side of the sofa and fell asleep.

***
I woke up to the sound of wrenching. Not the nicest thing. I was quick to be beside my friend who was no emptying the entirety of what he had decided to drink last night. When he was done I grabbed the bucket and cleaned it up before handing Finnick some aspirin, for his predictable headache.

"I take it what happened wasn't a dream," he said, hoarsely.

"No," I replied quietly, "you should eat and then go back to sleep, in a bed, not the sofa."

Finnick nodded.

"What do you want?" I asked.

"I'll make it," he said.

"No Finn," I replied sternly, "tell me what you want."

"Toast with butter please," he murmured.

I nodded turning the toaster on and getting the bread out. I quickly made the food and gave it to him. He thanked me as I lead him into bed as he passed out, as soon as his head hit the pillow.

***
When he next awoke he looked more like himself. He came and joined me on the sofa.

"You look better," I remarked.

"I feel a bit better," he said.

"That's good," I smiled, "do you need anything? Food? Tablets?"

"I'm alright," Finnick replied, "can you put the TV on?"

"Finnick....are you sure?" I asked.

"Please," he said slowly.

I nodded and flicked it on with the remote control. The Capitol reporter sat at his desk, his wildly green hair, styled...questionably.

"Unfortunately, as of last night. This years Victor of the Hunger Games, Annie Cresta, resident of District Four was found dead as of late last night. Peacekeepers have ruled it out as a suicide. The young girl was found to have a knife wound embedded in her chest, that wouldn't caused many internal and external problems ending her life. In the games, she watched as her male tribute and friend was decapitated by a career. She narrowly escaped but was said to have been left scarred and with serious mental issues, which is probably what lead her down this path," he said, as they played footage behind him off the moment where Pike was killed, "we are all devastated and we wish her loved one all the best. She was too young to be taken from us."

Suicide. Nice one Snow. Of course, there was no blood on his hands.

"Says the same people who put teenagers in an arena to fight to the death," Finnick spat, tears in his eyes.

"I'm sorry," I murmured.

"You know what the worst part is?" He asked.

I shook my head.

"They didn't even know her," he said, tears running freely down his face, "she was beautiful and funny and I loved her. Of course she didn't deserve this but this is what happens isn't it? When you love someone in this twisted world they end up dead. In Snow's psychopathic eyes anyway. I hope he dies in the most painful way possible. Annie was robbed of everything because of me!"

"No Finn," I said, "you can't blame yourself."

"So your telling me you don't blame yourself for you family?" He asked.

I sat there silent. He had a point. I did blame myself for the death of my family.

"It was different," I said quietly.

"I'm sorry," he said, through tears.

"Don't be," I said, " shhh come here."

I held Finnick close as I rested my face in his hair, inhaling his scent. He cried and I cried, we sat each other's arms sobbing for a good while, until we both pulled apart, wiping our faces. Silence surrounded us for a while until our eyes met.

"I'm really glad you're here," he said quietly.

"I'm glad I'm here too," I whispered back.

Deja vu much?

"I think it's best if we don't talk too much," he said.

"I agree," I murmured, "but I'll see you next year."

He nodded, "call if you need."

"And you?" I asked.

"Of course," he said, "I don't want what happened to Annie to happen to you as well."

"I know," I said quietly, "if you need me, I'll be down the other end of the phone, always, I promise."

"I promise too," he said quietly.

"Goodbye Finnick," I said, holding back my tears.

"Goodbye Flaire," he murmured, kissing my head gently, before I turned and left floor flour.

***
Finnick 💔
My baby 🥺
Rosabella xx