"Maybe it's been years
since I genuinely smiled.
Maybe it's been years
since I wanted to be apart of anything."
Dexter Lowhill, District Elevens sixth winner of the 69th Hunger Games at the ripe age of eighteen years old.
It was his last reaping for...
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"Sitting here, looking pretty. I'm rather good at it."
Training day. The only undocumented part of the entire games, and surprisingly, Dexter's favorite part of this whole ordeal.
Mainly because he could be all by himself, silently doing whatever he wanted with no one bothering him. No cameras, no annoying people, just twenty-three other killers stuck in a room, deciding on how to kill each other.
Dexter remembered it sounding cooler than it actually is.
Eris had wandered off on her own as soon as they stepped in, commenting on how Dexter could do all the alliance-building for them, which was true. Eris was not a people person, while Dexter was. At least much more of a people person than Eris ever could be.
But Dexter's only jobs today were to get on Katniss and Peeta's good side and scare the careers. That was all. He needed to have an alliance with them to make the plan work. He was originally going to talk to the District Twelve members first, but after seeing that Katniss was talking to the two people from Three and Peeta was awkwardly talking to the four from One and Two, Dexter quickly decided against that.
He glanced around for a moment, looking for one person he might be okay with talking to. Eris and Johanna were sparring together, a dangerous combination that Dexter was slightly worried about, but didn't glance at them again as he made his way to the table of a different assortment of ropes.
"You're late," Finnick reminded, a teasing smile on those stupid lips of his.
Dexter rolled his eyes, moving to stand next to Finnick, and watched him tie an assortment of knots. "How long have you been here?" He asked, not taking his eyes away from Finnick's hands.
Finnick shrugged, flashing Dexter another smile. More genuine than the last one, less cocky. "I dunno. I have no concept of time down here," he told him with a wink. Dexter hummed in response.
"Y'know how to tie a knot?" Finnick asked suddenly, playing with the thick strands of rope. He wrapped them around his wrist and his forearms before bringing them back to their normal straight line. Finnick looked back up at Dexter, his demeanor going back from genuine to flirty.
Dexter shook his head, leaning against the wall next to them. "I can't do a lot of things people from District Four can," he told him, giving him a sarcastic frown.
Finnick laughed, already beginning to tie the knot he wanted to show Dexter. "I always forget you can't swim," he teased. Dexter didn't respond, just staring at Finnick while he tied the stupid knot. It was like Finnick acted like this on purpose. He probably did, now that Dexter thought about it. Dexter wouldn't be surprised if Finnick purposely made himself seem more appealing and more attractive when he was around, solely because Finnick was an ass and liked to see a side of Dexter pretty much no one ever got to see- embarrassment.
