𝐆𝐎𝐋𝐃 𝐑𝐔𝐒𝐇 | Finnick Odair

𝐱𝐯𝐢. my waves meet your shore

Genevieve couldn't be bothered to watch the interview recap and commentary and it seemed that neither could anyone else, apart from Haven whose paper and pen had emerged once again to jot down more unintelligible notes. Mags shuffled off to bed as soon as she'd finished her meal, and the Avoxes began to clear the plates from dinner only a moment later. The sun had already begun to set, and the Games began early the next morning, so Haven wished Caspian a good night's sleep before he trudged off to his bedroom to get some shut eye.

Daffodil followed his lead shortly after, and scurried into the corridor - her high heeled shoes clicking loudly with every step she takes. Genevieve doesn't say goodbye to her just yet because as their escort she would be the one leading at least one of them if not both to their departure zone in the morning.

Finally, Haven retreated to her room to catch the last of the interviews and check that Mags was okay, leaving just Genevieve and Finnick at the now empty table.

She was still wearing her interview outfit, though the heels had been taken off and handed to her prep team the minute she'd left the stage. Caspian's jacket and shoes had also been strewn haphazardly across the floor. After a moment of silence Finnick walked over to the sofa and reclined with a sigh. Genevieve followed, not wanting to be left with the avoxes whose unwavering stares scared her. As she sat down Genevieve began to work on pulling out the decorations and pins from her hair. She was struggling a little without a mirror. Finnick noticed her plight and gave a groan as he sat up and gestured for her to come closer so he could help. He slowly began to take out the pearls and gemstone Octavia had so carefully threaded into her hair only hours earlier. He was much more efficient than Genevieve had been at removing them, so she didn't attempt to stop him.

"What do you think the arena will be like?" Genevieve asked, massaging her scalp now that it was free of any decorations. It was strange to imagine that it was finally happening, that this time tomorrow she would be in an arena fighting for her life. She had been preparing herself for this moment since she could walk. Her father had been coaching her for victory since long before that but now that it was actually happening she longed to go home and the only way back that didn't involve a body bag was to win. She took a deep breath as Finnick contemplated her question.

"Not deserts, that's for sure and probably not a normal forest." He replies, which made sense because the last two games had taken place on those two terrains respectively. "I tried to get some stuff out of the game makers but they wouldn't budge. The only useful piece of information I got was that stamina would be important. They're planning to really drag it out this year and make a real show. Last year's games were too lighthearted so they've got a new guy to run the show and boy is he bloodthirsty." Finnick laughs which does nothing to quell Genevieve's nerves. She just nods stoically and fiddles with her nails.

She'd remembered those games well: a boy from district six had won the entire thing simply by laying low and letting his opponents pick each other off. He'd only had one kill total. The two careers had a bloodthirsty battle and his last opponent was already heavily injured so it didn't take much to end him by slicing his throat with a jagged piece of rock.

The boy had been so affected by it that his victory tour had been abysmal. He'd hardly said a word the entire time and the capital had been left bloodthirsty and wanting in the aftermath. They had been waiting for these hunger games anxiously and they were expecting a show. It was up to the tributes to deliver one. To cement their names and deaths in history as showstopping so that even though their bodies might not go on their legacy would.

Finnick has produced something shiny from his pockets and is fiddling with it as Genevieve flips through a book on capital infrastructure left on the coffee table. "You should have this." He states abruptly handing over a pearl to her. She raises an eyebrow confused. "As your token." He explains.

"I've already got a token." She tugs on the necklace Annie gave her to show him. He grabs a rather sharp looking hairpin from the table and pushes it through the pearl until there's a hole in the middle. Then he unclasps her necklace and threads it through so it rests next to the starfish. "Do you give these to all the pretty girls?" She asks sarcastically, putting the necklace back on. "No just you." And Genevieve finds herself blushing for a reason she doesn't want to think about.

He was staring down at her, eyes darting towards her mouth that had remained shut, unsure of how to respond. She settled on a quiet "Thank you," and reached a hand up to touch the pearl resting at her nape.

Genevieve wasn't particularly sentimental. She didn't know what came after death but she liked the idea of returning as part of the world if she were to lose the games. Maybe she would come back as the froth that lay in the ocean's waves or as an oyster's pearl because then there was hope that Finnick Odair would find her once more even in death.

She closed her eyes, trying to dispel the rather morbid thoughts that were circling her head. After all she wasn't going to go down without a fight. She was going to win the hunger games and if someone was planning to take her down she'd go kicking and screaming till the very end. She'd die a warrior's death that was for sure.