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

Twenty-Five: the one with the confusion

FINNICK

°•. ✿ .•°

Augustus Braun ended up winning the 67th. It mostly sucked. He killed our tributes and was nothing but a bloodthirsty demon in the arena, but out of it, he's honestly a really great guy.

It's time for the 68th, now. Daphne and I are not the mentors this year, which is nice to finally have a break. Unfortunately, Mags is going again, which means there's no supervision. She really is like a mother, always making sure we brush our teeth, or shower. She visits Daphne a lot just to have tea and talk. She comes over to play cards with me. Now, she's gone, leaving Daphne and I to our own devices.

We sit at the dock, watching the waves, letting them lap at our bare feet. Her hair is longer this year. She had to dye it brown because it was becoming ashy and faded. Stress, she told me. What happened to being allowed to live our lives in peace after we win?

I'm taller, now, much to her dismay. "I was under the impression we were done growing." She told me.

"Maybe you are." I replied.

She's also more mature. Not just mentally, but physically. She looks much older in her face. Her honey eyes seem more dull, with black bags of stress and anxiety under them. She's weaving a bracelet, a new hobby of hers to put her mind off things. She's smiling a bit as she blindly works at it, her eyes still on the waves.

"Any plans for your birthday?" She asks me. In all honesty, I had forgotten it was right around the corner. I admit that to her, and she just shakes her head.

"I'll make you a cake." She smiles, saying it as though it's final. In her cream-colored wool sweater, she seems much younger for just a minute.

I press a grape to her mouth and she eats it with a satisfying crunch. "What flavor?"

"I don't know." Daphne shrugs. "You decide. It's your cake. You should also decide on the icing, or what you want it to say." She ties a final knot and passes the bracelet over to me. She explained that this kind of pattern is called a chevron, and she's chosen navy, light blue, and white for the colors. I thank her as I tie it on my wrist, where it joins many others.

"Hmm... how about a blueberry cake?" I grin, pressing my finger into her temple. She smacks me away as she grabs a grape from the small container between us, our only separation. "With blueberry frosting, and blueberries on it."

"I was not aware that you like blueberries so much, but okay." Daphne smiles as she slowly chews on the grape. The water is calm today. It almost blinds me with the ripples of white light that bounce across the bubbling surface.

"Who do you think will win this year?" She asks me curiously.

"The boy from 2." I say. She nods as though she was thinking the same thing. We go back to picking at grapes in silence as the sea breeze passes over us. Daphne's breathing is shaky, of course. It always is, now. I know that mine is very similar, and I know that she knows that.

It's a hard thing; not being allowed to be not okay. I can't tell people about the nightmares I have. It makes me look weak. I can't tell people about the way that my chest squeezes when I think about the arena. I can't tell people any of the secrets I've begun to learn. I can't tell people how my head starts spinning every time I hear someone tell me to come closer. I can't tell people that I need help.