Lost at Sea || Finnick Odair x OC (DISCONTINUED)

Six: And so it begins- YIPPEE!

DAPHNE

°•. ✿ .•°

"So, can I ask what happened back there? Or why you're still awake?"

I look up. Finnick is approaching me, and he sits next to me on the couch, though he maintains a few feet of space between us. I don't bother wiping away the tears that stain my cheeks. I'm sitting with both feet on the couch, my entire body tucked into a ball.

"It hit me." I admit. "The Games. I told Kym and Triton I would be back, but..." I don't go on. I don't need to. Finnick doesn't really seem to know what to do, which I guess is kind of useful. I think I need him to just degrade me and tell me I'm dramatic rather than validate my feelings.

I yank my homemade necklace up, and turn to Finnick. "You'll make sure this gets back to them, right?"

Finnick nods. "Sure."

"You swear?"

"Cross my heart and hope to die." Finnick grins. It's a poorly timed joke, but I find myself smiling a bit at it. I nod and let the necklace go. It rests between my collarbones, hanging lower than it should.

"You should sleep." He tells me. "The games are at dawn. I can order some sleep syrup if you want."

I guess he's right. I have to be well rested. Who knows when I'll get another chance? I nod, and begin making my way to my bed. I'm a little surprised when Finnick follows me into the room, even lingers after I crawl into the bed.

I don't like him, but he isn't so bad.

At the click of a button, a vial of sleep syrup enters my room. FInnick tosses it to me, ordering me only to drink half. The full thing will leave me fuzzy in the arena. I do as he says, and he takes the bottle. As he leaves, he turns to look at me for what may very well be the last time.

"May the odds be ever in your favor."

I'm not awake long enough to hear the door close.

°•. ✿ .•°

My stylist leads me into the chamber. Before me, there is a plastic tube that will import me to the arena. My tracker is in my arm, making me vastly aware that there will, in fact, be cameras on me every second for the rest of my life. For the arena, I'm given a tank-top made of some sort of sleek, waterproof material. I wear black leggings made of a similar material, though they're thicker, but what doesn't match is the thermal jacket and large leather boots, which are good for the cold. But the waterproof indicates that I'll be swimming.

I know that I'm trembling as I wait to be told to enter. My stylist and I say nothing to each other. I wear my necklace, and fiddle with it. I took out my wraps just before the games- not only was it time, but the Gamemakers said no- and have my hair pulled into a low ponytail.

"You have plenty of sponsors." She says. "It'll be fine."

What if they give it all to Neptune? He's with the Career pack, after all.

It's time. I enter the tube, my heart pounding right out of my chest. I look at my stylist, hoping for some level of support, but she's already walking away. Slowly, with shaking legs, the podium rises.