𝐆𝐎𝐋𝐃 𝐑𝐔𝐒𝐇 | Finnick Odair

𝐱𝐱𝐱𝐢. know I'm gonna be with you, so I take my time

Genevieve squinted trying to make sense of what was going on. Blinding white lights shone down from above as doctors rushed in and out of the room tending to her various injuries with meticulous attention.

The last couple of hours had been a blur, she'd dropped in and out of consciousness as various concoctions were pumped into her arm through a tube. Genevieve was glad that she was feeling a little more grounded and not as confused as she had been when they'd wheeled her in for surgery. Nobody had stopped to consult her on any of the procedures and she couldn't help but feel a little lost now that she was awake.

She'd spent the majority of her life training for the games and now they were over, she'd never have to step foot in the arena again.

Catching sight of a handheld mirror placed on top of her bedside table, she picked it up and was stunned to see that instead of looking rundown and bruised, her face seemed to be even more ethereal than it was before she entered the games.

"Creepy right?" Haven asked, strolling into the room, with an air of authority about her, ignoring the nurses trying to usher her out.

Genevieve's face broke out into a large smile at the sight of her mentor. "They told me I wasn't allowed any visitors."

"One of the many perks of being a victor," Haven replied, handing her a bottle of water that she chugged gratefully. "That's a nasty-looking cut you've got there." Haven gestured to her leg wound that was in the process of being slathered with foul-smelling lotion.

The capital doctors had patched her up considerably well considering the depths of her injuries but some of the more delicate muscles in her leg had been torn in half and as a result, her leg required much more maintenance than the rest of her body.

"You should have seen my hands." Genevieve chuckled, observing her now pristine-looking nails. It was almost strange to see them not covered in various layers of grime or dust from the forest and mountain range she'd grown so accustomed to throughout the games.

"You've got to get better quickly. We've got a lot to do." Finnick declared, catching the end of their conversation as he sauntered into the room unannounced.

"Careful Odair, it almost sounds like you're worried about me," Genevieve replied snarkily, secretly quite happy to see him. Without realising it Finnick Odair had become a constant presence in her life, wedging himself deep within her existence so that she couldn't possibly get rid of him. She imagined, now that she was a victor, she would be seeing a lot more of him.

"No, not at all. It's just the medication, it's giving you delusions." Genevieve snorted at his bad joke. Haven simply rolled her eyes. Finnick seemed unperturbed by her reaction as he flipped through the medical notes attached to her bedside and gave occasional hums of interest.

"Now that you're here, I'll take that as my queue to leave. After all, someone has got to keep your prep team at bay. They've been dying to see you all morning." Haven explained, as she headed out the door with a small wave goodbye.

Genevieve had only a couple of seconds of peace before she looked down at the white bed sheets surrounding her and flinched as a drop of blood dripped down to stain them. Lifting her hand to stem the flow of blood she noticed her nose had started to bleed. For a brief second, she panicked at the sight of it, her mind flashing right back to the arena and assumed the worst.

"That's quite normal, it's a side effect of the medicine we used to keep your red blood cell count at the desired level while we operated." A capital nurse chimed in, catching sight of her predicament. Genevieve didn't bother asking what her red blood cell count had to do with anything, knowing it would simply lead to another long boring explanation of medical concepts she couldn't quite grasp.

Finnish pulled a square of cloth from a drawer nearby and pressed it to her face gently. "Don't tilt your head back, it will make you sick," He advised, his hot breath fanning over her face.

Not trusting herself to come up with a response Genevieve just nodded. Pulling at her hands he led her away from the bed and into the adjoining bathroom. By the time she'd perched herself on the edge of a bathtub, the bleeding had mostly stopped. Finnish poured a little water on the clean side of the cloth and began to wipe the dried blood off her face.

"Tell the nurse if it keeps happening. We can't have our new victor succumbing to blood loss so soon."

"I'll go straight back and let them check me over if it does." She assured him, as their eyes met. Genevieve took note of the exact shade of his eyes, with a newfound appreciation for her mentor.

"Alright. That should do it." Finnick muttered as he wiped the last blood stain off of her lips and his other hand slowly came round to caress her cheek. She simply raised her eyebrow at the gesture and smiled.

He huffed, "Stop being all smiley. I much preferred the mean scary Genevieve." She laughed lightly as he headed to the door. "Sure, whatever you say."

Once she was sure he was gone, Genevieve found her own hand trailing up to the spot on her face he had touched only seconds ago.

Her stomach fluttered as she walked back to the hospital room and she couldn't help but feel curious if it was another side effect of the medicine. The nurse from earlier rushed to support her lithe figure, as though she might collapse at any second.

"Are you okay sweetie? You look a little flushed." She asked, her voice full of concern as she held a hand to check Genevieve's temperature. This comment only served to make her turn an even darker shade as she stuttered out an excuse. What was happening to her?