The Flying Fish (Exocoetidae)|| Finnick Odair X Fem!OC

The Games Begin

She stared out the window in the living room, unable to sleep. It's the night before the Games and Cress is kind of a mess.

"Cress? Why the hell are you still awake?" Finnick says from behind her. She turns and sees him standing there, shirtless, with his arms crossed.

"Why the hell aren't you wearing a shirt?" she raises her eyebrow.

"I don't sleep with shirts on." The way he says that like it's common knowledge irritates her.

"Good for you," she mutters. "What do you want Finn?"

"You." She blinks. Did she hear that right? She's hallucinating.

"What?" she glances up at him.

"I didn't say anything." he holds his hands up.

"Right, right," she mumbles. "Anyway, what do you want?"

"To know if you were serious about your feelings for Ferric." Finnick's stare feels like it's piercing into her soul.

"Who said I was talking about Ferric?" she raises her eyebrow. "Goodnight." Before Finnick can formulate a response, or even process what she'd just said, she had turned and was half way back to her room. Once he'd realized what she'd said, her door was shut and probably locked.

He stared at her closed door for a solid minute and a half, realizing what she had just said.

And how he could never say anything if he wanted to keep her alive.

Finnick Odair would do many things to keep Cress Bronzetide alive, even if he hadn't realized it yet.

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"Oh Cress, I'm going to miss you so much!" Tazzel sobs, throwing himself at her. "Please Cress, you just have to win!"

"I'll try Tazzel, I promise," she says softly, letting Tazzel cry into her outfit.

"Tazzel! You're getting your tears all over her outfit." Sorrel shoos him away, handing him a box of tissues. "Now Cress, be prepared for anything in the arena. It is unclear what the arena will look like this year, so you must be ready."

"I will be." she nods.

"Now, from what I've heard, you're quite skilled with a trapeze, yes?" Sorrel asks.

"Um, yeah, I've been in the circus since I was about thirteen. Why?" she tilts her head.

"With the way you performed in the individual assessments, I'll bet my left arm that the arena will be suited towards your skills. The Capitol rigs the arena for who they want to win, so I'll bet it'll be in District 4's favour this year." Sorrel has a point. Finnick's arena had been a beachy scene that was clearly in his favour, which was demonstrated when he won.

"Oh I bet it'll have trees." Saffrin chimes in. "Things that you can flip between." Cress nods.

"Alright, it's time for Cress and I to go. Say your goodbyes." Sorrel stands up and Cress follows.

"Bye Cress, it's been lovely to be your stylist." Saffrin gives her a tight hug, ruffling her hair. "Best of luck in the games."

"Thanks Saffrin." Cress smiles.

"Oh Cress, I'm going to miss you so so so so so so much!" Tazzel wails, throwing himself at her and practically knocking her over. "You just have to win, oh you just have to!"

"Tazzel, can't breathe," she wheezes, the wind being knocked out of her when he had crashed into her. "But I'm going to miss you too." Tazzel climbs off of her, sniffling and wiping his eyes.

"Cress, do me a favour and wash your hair as often as you can." Tazzel says, gripping her hands. "It's too lovely to be ruined."

"I'll try Taz," she says. "Bye Saffrin, bye Tazzel. Cheer for me, will you?"

"Always." Saffrin and Tazzel wave her off as she follows Sorrel out of the room.

They walk all the way down to a sort of loading dock, the other tributes there as well. The giant ship was waiting for them there, and the other tributes were eyeing up both Cress and Ferric.

"Please find a seat. Please find a seat." The metallic voice repeats over the radio over and over again until every single person is sitting down. "Thank you for your cooperation. You will now be given a tracker so that we are aware of your whereabouts at all times during the Games. Please do not resist the injection."

Cress holds out her arm, the Peacekeeper injecting her with the tracker. She winces at the feeling. The airship takes them to a new building, where they get dropped off with their stylists.

"Now Cress, here's your outfit of sorts for the games. It's a waterproof jacket and the matching pants, a thin shirt, and I'm pretty sure there's also a hat somewhere," Sorrel explains, helping her put it all on. "Now I want you to watch you back in the arena. These people are desperate to survive and will be running on pure adrenaline and fear. You must think logically or you will die."

"Gee, way to cheer me up Sorrel," Cress mutters.

"Apologies," he laughs. "I didn't mean to worry you. You've got this. Just use your head, alright?"

"Alright." she nods.

"Please enter the tube and prepare for launch." that same metallic voice echoes over the speakers in the room and Cress steps inside. The glass closes around her, locking her in and sealing her fate.

"Good luck." Sorrel mouths, winking at her. She smiles and then the tube starts to rise.

Let the Games begin.