I Want What I Can't Have

Forgive And Forget

I didn't know the place that well. I didn't know where I could hide away from all the pain so I retreated to where no one would expect. An empty cupboard. It had a strong musty smell to it, not that I cared much. I was too preoccupied with crying my eyes out. I cried so hard to suppress my sobs but the cupboard was echoing my every move. Soon, I felt my body grow heavy and tired and slowly slowly my eyes began to droop. I was exhausted with being upset, I was exhausted of fighting, I was exhausted with this world.

***
I stood beside Finnick. His face was hard and cold, he wouldn't look at me. Johanna had a mischievous grin plastered on her face as she stared outwards. I realised I was in some sort of ceremony. The living Victors began to walk forwards, I quickly followed taking in the sights. It reminded me of my reaping, how I walked into the square, how we all stood there waiting, praying that this time, we'd make it out without being chosen.

"People of Panem!" Coin's voice boomed from several speakers, "we have gathered here today to mark the final Hunger Games ever to take place!"

There were gasps from within the crowd.

"For all too long Snow has stolen children from our districts and watched happily from his mansion as they died," she continued, "now, he will be executed, but first I'd like him to hear this."

She gestured to President Snow, who stood bound to a pole in the centre of it all.

"We are hosting the final games with the Capitol's children," she grinned.

A mixture of shouts, cheers, sobs and screams could be heard within the crowd. Mothers clung to their children as tightly as possible, some people even tried to run away. They were shot.

"Let's begin," Coin said, "I want Snow to see the 24 Capitol children that shall be sacrificed on behalf of his actions. May the odds ever be in your favour."

Rebels cheered, bloodthirsty.

"Plutarch if you would?"

Plutarch reluctantly approached a large glass bowl filled to the brim with papers. He reached in and plucked a paper, handing it to Coin.

"Ignatius Jaboria," she called out.

From the crowd stepped a sixteen year old boy. His hair half blue and half green. He has eccentric black eyeliner on and too many piercings to count. His body shook with fear and he stepped forwards. The rebels screamed for him to die. He would be the first of many to go into that arena. Coin revealed the next name.

"Praxis Lubisharac!"

A girl looking slightly older than the first boy emerged and stood by his side. Her bright red boots made a echoed clicking noise, that could be heard by everyone. Her face immediately went the ghastliest shade of white. I watched as she pinched her arm, drawing blood. Next name:

"Rosamund Vicori!"

"NO! PLEASE!" the mother cried, running from the crowd, "DON'T TAKE MY CHILD."

She had a baby in her arms and another younger child clinging to her leg. Behind her was who I assumed to be Rosamund. The girl looked about ten but the age for reaping was twelve, which meant she must've been one of the youngest. The mother was a mess, sobbing, screaming. Suddenly two men seized her. The baby began to wail and the young child cling onto her tighter, Rosamund stood frozen in a state of paralysis.

"Step away from your child miss, she must compete," one man said.

"I'd rather die," she growled, "don't touch her."

"Miss you must calm down," he advised, "if it gets too rough, guns will be drawn."

"Draw your guns, you cowards, just leave my daughter alone!"

BANG! The other man was three steps ahead, his gun already drawn. He shot the woman, she fell to the floor dead. The baby screamed. BANG! The baby screamed no more.

"Mamma?" The young child murmured.

BANG! The young child murmured no more.

"You, join the other tributes," he yelled to the girl.

Rosamund fell to the floor and threw up the contents of her stomach. I looked away, feeling ill at the sight.

"Look Flaire. Look what you've done," Finnick snarled, walking away.

***
I was screaming and sweating. I felt myself being rocked in clam motions by someone. I heard a soft voice, a gentle voice, a safe voice.I wasn't on the floor anymore, I was on something soft and warm. A warm draft tickled the back of my neck. The word enveloped me and I felt cushioned with comfort. My breathing slowed and I looked up to see Finnick holding my limp body.

"Oh Flaire," he murmured, bringing me into his arms, "breathe sweetheart. Don't worry. I'm here. I've got you."

"Finn," I choked.

"Shhh," he said, "I've got you, I've got you."

"I had a bad dream," I whimpered, sounding like a child.

"Wanna talk about it?" he asked.

"No," I breathed.

"It's not real my love, none of it's real," he comforted.

I allowed myself to relax in his grasp. I closed my eyes and curled up against his chest, inhaling his scent. It felt like home again. I felt less alone, less scared, less vulnerable.

"How did you find me?" I asked, my voice hoarse.

"I know you better than you know yourself," he said gently, "I knew you'd want to hideaway."

"I'm sorry," I said, looking into his eyes, "I was so stupid and-"

"Shhhh," he murmured, wiping my tears with his thumb, "look at me."

I stared into his sea green eyes, deep with love and sadness, losing myself in them for a few moments.

"Don't be sorry, I overreacted," he said, "I'm sorry Flaire, I didn't mean to be like that. I hate being angry with you."

"But your overreaction was right," I whispered, "I don't want the Capitol games. I don't want to see more kids get hurt, no one deserves it."

"I know sweetheart, but it's too late," he murmured.

"Do we have to go tomorrow?" I asked.

"I think we do," he sighed.

"But I'm going to have to watch it all happen," I said, "watch those poor children being ripped away from their parents and put in an arena to die. How am I going to live with myself, knowing I've murdered 23 children because I was being selfish-"

"Flaire," Finnick said, cupping my face with his hands, "you didn't do anything. Your decision is what any rational person would decide in your situation. We don't have to go if you really don't want to."

"Can I stop it?" I asked.

"You can't do anything my love," he replied, "we'll leave it all in fate's hands now."

"I'm not great friends with fate," I said.

"Neither am I," he grinned, "but fate brought us together, doesn't that count for something?"

"It counts for everything," I smiled.

"Kiss me," he whispered.

"It would be my pleasure," I murmured.

***
FINNICK x FLAIRE 4 LIFEEEEE 💗💗💗
Thanks for reading my lovelies 😘😘