Johanna & Finnick: It Didn't End Like That

Chapter 13

Johanna's POV

Because Finnick told me I wasn't allowed making breakfast, I woke up forty minutes earlier than him so I could just do that. I was making omelets and french toast for our breakfast.

Unfortunately, I had no idea how to cook anything besides toast and using a microwave. I brought out a cookbook and read the instructions dozens of times. They seemed simple enough.

I took out the frying pans, eggs, toast, sugar, and other ingredients to make it. Thirty painful minutes later, everything was ready and it was time for Finnick to get up and start the day.

Footsteps came from upstairs, then crept down the stairs. You could hear him humming from a mile away. "Johanna, are you down here!" His voice rang through the house.

"Yeah!" I called back, placing our plates and glasses onto the table.

I stood proudly, smirking when he walked out from the hallway. He stared at me like I was insane. I grinned, feeling amused.

"You made all this?" He finally said.

"Yeap." I bit my lip.

He took a seat down at the table I did too. Finnick lifted up his fork and sliced a piece of the omelet and French Toast. "Are you sure this isn't poisoned?" He raised an eyebrow at me teasingly.

"Oh shut up!" I snapped, folding my arms over my stomach.

"Okay. If you say so..." He opened his mouth and took a bite. I watched the reaction of his face closely. He looked like he liked it. I smiled at the table.

"Do you like it?" I shyly ask.

"It's great!" He says, taking another bite. "You know how to cook?"

"Obviously." I rolled my eyes at him. "I'm not useless Finnick."

"I never said that."

We both ate breakfast quickly. I was surprised at how good it was. Thankfully I did good. The other attempts I've done before ended with the smoke alarm blaring off. Afterwards, we washed and dried the fishes.

"Sing something," Finnick ordered like a child.

"What song?" I asked, picking up a plate to dry it.

"There's this one where you sing or hum a lot." Finnick pauses, biting his lip. "But I don't know what it's called." He frowns.

"Ohh." The song my mother taught me. "I know what you're talking about," I say, smiling. "Hum or sing?"

"Sing," chooses Finnick. He hands me a dishtowel and a plate. Then I start drying the dishes and sing away the beautiful lyrics my mother taught me many years ago...

Down by the lake

Surrounded by the wild

We'll be safe together

No one cam harm a soul

Our voices will harmonize 

Leaving the world silent

I promise you someday you'll understand

The beauty of this real world

That was my favorite song she ever taught me. I sang it softly while working away with Finnick. I'm usually a real badass, but I have a soft spot for my childhood songs.

I sing the last line. "Your mother really taught you well," Finnick comments, smiling at me.

I look away at the ground blushing. "She was a really great teacher," I say, daydreaming about us together. "And my father taught me how to use an ax when I was only five years old. We worked and trained hours deep in the woods where loggers haven't ventured off to yet."

"You really loved your family."

"I did. I still do." I sigh, closing my eyes. Dear God I miss them so much. Snow had to fucking do that... He took away the one thing that meant the most to me: my family.

"So today," Finnick starts, "I was wondering if you wanted to go to the cake bakery and buy something to celebrate."

I raise an eyebrow. "To celebrate what?"

He rolls his eyes. Dammit. That's my thing. "Freedom you idiot."

"Freedom?" I say it like it's a terrible thing.

"Yeah, freedom," Finnick answers. "Also I'm really craving some cake right now."

I roll my eyes. "Of course you do," I mutter. "Okay fine. We'll go after lunch."

He claps his hands excitedly. "Yay! Let's get cooking"