crashing waves (finnick odair)

Chapter 5: Life and Hope

Celeste's P.O.V.

Finnick ushers me down to the last train car, utterly ignoring the stares of the servants. Avoxes, he calls them when I ask who they are and why they refuse to speak. Their tongues have been cut out as a punishment.

"We can talk here," he says as the door shuts. "There are no microphones."

I just look at him, frozen as I hover by the door. He waves me over to sit by him against the window. I blink. I hesitate only a moment longer before I reluctantly sit next to him, but I leave a bit of distance between us.

"Are you hungry?" he asks. "We can eat, if you want. Away from the others. Watch the Reaping after we talk."

"Okay," I say quietly, watching him closely. He grabs a piece of metal from the table next to him, and it lights up. He taps a few things before setting it aside again.

"The food will be here soon," he says, and I nod. He looks at me, long and thoughtful. "I have something for you."

I frown, confused. "For me?"

He nods. "Yes. Just, let me explain before you say anything, alright?"

That doesn't help clear up any confusion.

He reaches into his pocket and hesitates for just a second before he pulls something out. A chain hangs from his closed fist. He looks sick to his stomach as he looks down at whatever it is.

"Just, uh- here."

He suddenly takes my hand and, covering my hand with his, he presses something cold into it. He then closes my fingers around it. His hand is warm as it stays holding mine for a lingering moment, large and encompassing. But he releases me and sits back.

I'm almost afraid to look.

But I do anyway. I unfold my fingers, and I choke on a gasp as my blood runs cold. Tears spring to my eyes. I can hardly breathe.

"How-"

"Let me explain," Finnick repeats quickly, anxiously.

I cannot look away from the golden locket in my palm. It is engraved with a seahorse on the front, ornate and carefully-done. The back, in slanted lettering, is a phrase that has been passed down in whispers in my family.

"Adrian..." he says quietly, "he knew there was a chance he wasn't coming back. He told me if that happened, he wanted me to take it off his body and hold onto it until after your last Reaping. Then, after, he wanted me to give it back to you."

Finnick sighs deeply and runs his hand through his hair. "I thought it was only right that you should have it for your token."

I finally look back up at him. My heart picks up a bit as I realize how heavily Adrian's death has weighed upon him too. I squeeze the locket. For the first time in a year, it feels as though I'm holding my brother's hand again.

"You really tried to bring him home, didn't you?" I ask, my voice cracking. He closes his eyes and nods.

"He was my best friend. I did everything I could for him, Cel, and for-" he cuts himself off. He sighs.

"And for...?"

He looks at me for a long moment, and his gaze is heavy. A thousand emotions flicker in the ocean of his sea green eyes. I can hardly breathe through the thick haze between us. He reaches for my free hand, and I let him. He squeezes my hand. His touch is comforting, warm and safe.

"You need to fight, Celeste," he says. His voice is just above a whisper. A desperate, pleading whisper. "It's selfish of me to ask you to do it for me, but I'm asking you anyway. I can't watch you die."

"You don't have to watch," I say weakly. My resolve is crumbling.

He traces my fingers with his. His fingertips are calloused from his years of training and knot-tying.

"I will not look away while you're in that arena," he promises. "You won't be alone."

I sigh deeply and close my eyes. I look down at his fingers intertwined with mine. I can't help but wonder what could have happened, if-

I push the thought from my mind and swallow the bitter taste in my mouth.

"Finnick..." I murmur tiredly. How many times do I have to...

But then, I open my fingers once more and turn over the locket to look at the inscription again. Dum vita est, spes est.

Where there is life, there is hope.

My eyes flick back up to meet with his. And I know, then and there, that I have something to fight for. I can't bring myself to say anything. What can I say? But he can see the moment I give in. I nod, just the shallowest dip of my head, and the relief visibly floods his entire body.

Finnick takes me by surprise by pulling me into his arms. I want to resist him. I want to act as if I'm numb to him, as if he has no effect on me, as if he is nothing. But we would both know I'm lying if I even tried. I can't bring myself to speak of it, but I don't need to. I only need to let him hold me.

It's...nice.

I'd deny it if anyone asked, but, well, it is. Finnick is familiar. He is- was- Adrian's best friend. He is the physical representation of home. He is the sea with skin.

I'll fight. For him. I don't want to do it for me. I can't even say I'll do it for Adrian. But Finnick isn't asking for much- just for me to try. I can try. Even if I want nothing more than to not.

"Thank you," he whispers, tucking his head against mine. If I heard his breath shudder, I'd never tell.

"I can't promise I'll win," I remind him. "Just that I'll try my best."

"You're coming back," he mumbles into my hair. "I've done what I've had to do this long. I'll keep on doing it until you come home safe."

I look up at him then, alarmed and confused. What the hell does that mean? I ask him as much, but he just shakes his head. He pulls me back to him.

"We'll talk about it later. Don't worry about it for now."

Don't worry? My god, Finnick-

"Okay, that was poor word choice, but you know what I mean," he tacks on the end. I huff out a breathy laugh, shaking my head.

"Fine, I'll drop it. For now. But we can't have any secrets by the time I go into the arena, Finnick," I say. He nods. He smooths his hand over my hair.

"Alright. That, I can agree to."