Born to Die || Hunger Games x Reader

The Angel of Death

𝗡𝗼𝘄 𝗽𝗹𝗮𝘆𝗶𝗻𝗴:
"bury a friend — Billie Eilish" 
01:19 ━━━━●───── 03:14

ㅤ ㅤ◁ㅤ ❚❚ ㅤ▷ ㅤㅤ

.𖥔 ݁ ˖ ⭑‧₊˚ ⋅ જ⁀➴๋࣭ ⭑๋࣭ ⭑

Y/N POV

I can't stop crying. 

His cannon still rings in my ears as I kneel over his lifeless frame. Seventeen years I've known him, and now he's gone. Just like that.

I can't stop crying.

We carry Finch out of the ruins to the other side of the oasis so that the hovercraft will pick him up. The blood pouring from his neck has long since dried. In the end I used the knife that killed Cole, rather than the scythe. After his death I refused to leave him for a while. Spindrift puts an arm around me while we wait in the shelter of the ruins. Our faces are somber as we watch the claw from the hovercraft descend and pick up Finch.

First Cole, and now Finch.

I can't stop crying.

Spindrift puts both of our bags on his back. I give him a confused look, wondering why he's carrying my bag rather than handing it to me. He stares back for a second with a small smile before scooping me up bridal style.

"You deserve a rest, Angel. I'll carry you to the rocks," he says.

I shake my head in protest. "No it's okay, you don't have to. I've got legs."

Still, he doesn't put me down. I don't mind it though, because in truth I didn't want him to put me down. My body has been shaking so violently in the last few minutes that I don't think my legs will be able to carry me the whole way there.

"You can at least let me take something," I insist. After a few more protests, he finally gives in and lets me carry his trident, my axe, and my new scythe. The knife, which is still covered in Finch's blood, sits in my belt. "What's with the name?" I ask, smiling slightly as we walk out of the ruins. 

"What name?"

"You called me 'angel'."

"Well, you heard Caesar on the night of the interviews. You look angelic. You are angelic," he says. His cheeks grow redder by the second as he tries to look ahead so that I won't see how flustered he is.

He's wrong of course. I'm not angelic. Not with the amount of people I've murdered, anyway. Especially because I don't feel guilty about any of them. Except Finch. But his death still doesn't feel real.

Regardless of my disagreement, I'm speechless, and I have to bury my face into his chest to hide my own blush. I know that the viewers in the Capitol are going crazy right now. This is good — Bailey and Finnick will be able to gather lots of sponsors for the both of us. But what I really want to know is how Barric and Gin are reacting. Are they mad? Barric has probably gone all protective again, as usual. 

And what of the Plinths? They've always been like family, especially their son Dimitri. His whole family is still sick from the plague, so we often find ourselves looking after him. He's like a little brother. I wonder if they're doing okay. I can only imagine that Gin and Barric are glued to the television at every spare moment, which means all they'll have to live off of is their sheep. I suppose that's enough.