darkened horizons- finnick odair

twelve | vulturous

— — —

Finnick's gaze was pinned on the shallow water, unable to move from the ripple that grew from a small portion in front of him. Katniss was a few feet away in the water, rubbing the rest of the blisters from her hands, not really paying attention to either of them.

Cass lifted her head, eyes solely focused on Finnick. She'd never seen him so disinterested, his gaze so glazed over. He looked like he didn't quite know what to do or say, but his mind was racing a million miles a minute. She could see it.

"Hey, we're okay. They're okay. We're all good." She said softly.

Finnick's eyes didn't lift, his gaze remaining on the water. "No. We're not." He claimed, his tone monotonous against the gentle brush of the wind. "We're not fine and we're never gonna be."

Cass's heart squoze in her chest, its familiar rhythmic beat pausing.

He lifted his head, finally meeting her wide eyed gaze. "Face it, Peia. We're cursed."

A wave of nausea washed over her as his gaze returned to the water and he continued rubbing off the boils on his skin. She felt like she'd been punched in her windpipe, all the air subsequently leaving her lungs. Finnick had always, always been the hope in their relationship, so it didn't make any sense to her.

What she didn't know, though, was that all Finnick felt was guilt. He'd fallen unconscious, leaving her unprotected from the fog. If anything had happened to her that would've been on him and he would've had to live with it— that is, if he survived.

But that's all that flashed through his mind. That thought. He hadn't been able to protect her when she'd needed it most. And it didn't matter that they were fine. What mattered was what could've happened because of him.

She'd also been right their last night in the Capitol. After three years in the grave, there was nothing left for them anymore. They were over. Even though in the back of his mind, he felt they'd buried something still beating, still breathing, it didn't matter. They'd been the definition of ecstasy until Snow had torn them apart, chewed them up, and spit them back out.

"Guys," Katniss voiced, eyes wholly focused on something behind them as she reached for one of her arrows.

Finnick turned around, his gaze falling on a monkey, its glassy eyes keenly pinned on the three of them. "What?" He murmured, confusion blooming in his chest.

Cass eyed the creature, fingertips brushing one of the various knives in the sheath of her belt. It didn't move, simply resting on the branch in front of them as if it was waiting for something.

They stood, casting their eyes to the surrounding trees, taking note of the dozens of monkeys that had gathered. They were in the treetops, on branches, and on the ground— all of them staring directly at the three tributes.

Finnick reached down, grabbing hold of his trident and pulling it from the water. Cass carefully removed her steel blade from her sheath, gripping it between her fingertips. Her eyes stayed stagnant on the creatures, not daring to look away.

"Peeta?" Katniss mumbled.

"Yeah?" He replied, glancing back at them from the tree.

"Walk over here slowly." She warned, eyes flicking behind him.

Peeta followed her gaze, making eye contact with one of the monkeys just as it growled, startling him. He stumbled back, swallowing the lump in his throat as he gradually crawled backwards down the small hill.