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

Bonus 2

"Cress, come on. You can't ignore me forever." Finnick leans over her shoulder, his lips set in a pout. "I'm sorry I ate your crêpe, alright? I thought it was Haymitch's!"

"It had my name on it!" Cress frowns, grabbing yogurt from the fridge in the train's lounge and slamming the door. Finnick jumped back to avoid it. "And last I checked, I was the only Cress around here!"

"I'm sorry!" he groans, following her back over to the couch. "Come on, Cress, it's not my fault your damn crêpe looked incredible! Besides, you order them just how I like them." He gives her a mock-pleading look. "I'll get you a new one, promise."

"You better, or no more joint training." Cress crosses her arms over her chest.

"Oh please, anything but that! These ones are going to be annoying for sure!" Finnick swoons, falling over and onto her shoulder. She shoves him off, rolling her eyes. "However will I survive without the company of the Pearl Princess herself?"

"Finn, quit being a drama queen." she glances over at him. "You owe me two crêpes now."

"What? Why?" he glances up at her, eyebrows furrowed slightly.

"Cause you just called me 'Pearl Princess'. You want me to return the favour, Golden Boy?" she raises her eyebrow as her words shut him up.

"Fine. Sorry," he mumbles, taking a bite of her yogurt.

"I hate you."

"No you don't." Cress stared at the TV, her mind far away. He was right. She didn't hate him, how could she, but she'd be damned if she said that she didn't wish to wake up hating Finnick Odair. Wake up and not feel her cheeks heating up in his presence. Wake up and not get butterflies from his smile alone. Wake up and not be in love with the Capitol Golden Boy.

"You're right. I don't."

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"Alright, listen up." Finnick leans over the table, staring the two most recent tributes, Vanilee Wellblossom and Drake Roadrock, dead in their eyes. "I'm Finnick Odair, as you probably already know, and this is the lovely lady Cress Bronzetide. We're your mentors, and we're going to try to keep you alive. Understand?"

"Finnick, don't scare them," she mutters, glancing towards the tributes. Drake looked indifferent while Vanilee looked a bit intimidated. "I'm Cress, nice to meet you. I wish it was under better circumstances."

"He was speaking," Drake snaps, his eyes narrowing at her when she speaks. "Don't interrupt Finnick while he's talking." Cress' eyebrows raise in mild surprise, this boy's guts surprised her.

"Talk to her like that again and I'll break your arm." Finnick's cold voice seemed to intimidate Drake, as he immediately shut his mouth. Now both tributes were looking at Finnick with evident fear in their eyes, especially Vanilee. "Apologize. Now."

"Finnick-" she sighs, reaching for his shoulder, but he shrugs her hand off.

"No, Cress, he needs to apologize. He shouldn't be able to get away with being a dick, especially to you." Finnick glares at Drake, his arms crossed over his toned chest. "So, what's it going to be? Apologize now, or after I beat it out of you?"

"S-Sorry," Drake stutters out, his hands trembling at his sides. He steps back slightly, away from Finnick and his rather intimidating muscles.

"I'm sorry about him, he's riled up." Cress runs her hand through her hair, shaking her head. "Finnick, knock it off." After another moment, Finnick's glowering comes to a stop, but he continued to keep his arms crossed. "Thank you."

"Now then, back to what we were discussing." Finnick stands behind her, his eyes boring holes into Drake's skull. "What are your individual skills?"

"I'm good with a harpoon," Drake says, crossing his arms. Cress' muscles lock slightly, but she keeps her relaxed expression up.

"Harpoon, hm? Interesting. We can do something with that." she nods despite the tightening in her chest. "What about you, Vanilee?"

"I don't really have any skills," Vanilee mumbles, her cheeks flushing pink.

"What? You do have skills, I've seen you with the knife down in the butcher shop," Drake cuts in. "You're wicked with the knife, I swear."

"Me? Oh, um, not really..." her voice trails off into a mumble, her eyes downcast.

"Don't be modest, sweetheart, I'm sure you're great," Finnick chimes in. Drake's eyes slide towards him, narrowing into a slight frown. He didn't seem to take kindly to Finnick calling Vanilee 'sweetheart'.

"Alright, good, we've got a base here. Now to implement that into your training routines, so you'll have a chance of survival in the arena." Cress' pen scribbles across her paper as she makes up a plan, unaware of Finnick's eyes on her. Drake and Vanilee could see the softness in his eyes when he looked at her, the way his muscles seemed to relax while he was watching her. It seemed to be clear to everyone except Cress herself.

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She knew it was a dream. It was the same one she had every night, the same dream that had haunted her since her time in the arena.

"Cress, there you are!" Ferric exclaims, running over to her with a big smile on his face. "I've been waiting for you since forever? How've you been?" He looked like he hadn't aged a day, still the same seventeen year old. She didn't answer, she knew what was coming next. It always shocked her, however, when the knife entered his heart.

The scene shifts as Ferric falls to the ground, dead. She's in a dark room, two poles that have a man strung up on each.

Finnick and Ferric. They were both rotting, their corpses being eaten by crows.

Cress woke herself up, her screams echoing through her room and presumably her floor. Heavy footfalls sounded from down the hall and her door was thrown open so hard it almost fell off it's hinges.

"Cress, shit, you okay?" Finnick exclaims, immediately moving towards her and sitting down. She was breathing heavily, tear tracks on her cheeks.

"Fine. Fine," she whispers, wiping at her eyes. "Just go back to bed, Finn. I'm fine."

"No, no way. You're crying. You're going to tell me what happened, because I'm not leaving until you do."

"Just go away!" she exclaims, her voice louder than she meant it to be. Finnick blinks, taken aback. He slowly stands up, walking out of her room silently and shutting the door. Cress curls into a ball, her legs tucked to her chest.

"Sorry, I'm sorry," she whispers to herself, imagining that Ferric could hear her. Imagining that Finnick could hear her. "I didn't mean to."