𝐆𝐎𝐋𝐃 𝐑𝐔𝐒𝐇 | Finnick Odair

𝐱𝐱𝐱𝐢𝐯. hair falling into place like dominos

On the first night of her victory tour, Finnick was called away to the Capital to attend a birthday party. Mags had opted not to join them and so Haven and Genevieve were left on their own in the dining cart, buttering braided loaves of bread and slicing fruit for lunch. It had been a long dreary, drowsy morning and Genevieve was in one of those carefree moods, when the hunger games seemed like a distant afterthought to the rest of the real world.

She experienced a lonely sort of melancholy at ruining such a perfect moment, one in which everything— the holoscreen in the next room playing something mundane and uninteresting for once and the pattering of rain on the windowsill— had worked so perfectly, only to have her ruin it.

"Do you ever miss it? The arena I mean, does it not get boring after a while just playing victor?" Genevieve asked.

Haven didn't answer until she'd finished squeezing the last drops of juice out of an orange, and then looked at her with a steady, blank gaze. "No. Never."

"Really? Not even a little bit" She asked, petulantly.

Haven grinned at her, faintly, warningly. "Daffodil will be back soon." She declared, effortlessly diverting the subject. The capital escort had stepped out for a moment to organise their schedule completely and Genevieve wouldn't dare broach the topic again when she returned.

"It's just" —she stopped preemptively, casting her mind back to Haven's games. They had not been particularly memorable and yet they seemed to have had a great effect on her companion. "I think the hunger games will be the best thing I'll ever do."

It frightened her. Some victors seemed so willing to desert their pasts and others clung onto them with an unbridled fury she couldn't seem to match. What if she never reached the heights she had during that arena again?

At this Haven made a noise, a strange kind of chortle, too loud and too squeaky to be a real laugh, and went back to select another orange from the pile in front of her.

"There are much better things in life than the hunger games." She said, her voice hoarse, barely a whisper. Genevieve watched as she methodically squeezed the fruit in her hands just a little too hard. The pulp dripped down her fingers and onto the tablecloth below, uncaring that the fabric would surely stain.

Genevieve was glad that Daffodil returned before she could say something else that might set the other girl off. She was quite happy to let her questions die on the tip of her tongue.

If it was anyone else she might have demanded answers. But strong, unwavering Haven was fragile in ways she had yet to understand, the smallest things were enough to send her into an unexpected setback, which meant days where no one would see or speak to her and then almost miraculously she would emerge. Looking perfectly fine and yet just a little quieter. No one could ever coax out any information about what she did when she was by herself and Genevieve, personally, felt better not knowing. Some secrets didn't need to be shared.

Lunch was eaten in relative silence save for the sound of the worsening weather. She ate a little bit of everything and nearly swooned when the multitude of flavours finally hit her. Genevieve didn't think she would ever get sick of Capital food, she couldn't believe she'd been deprived of it for so long. After she had finished she excused herself to her cabin for some much-needed downtime. She walked past a pair of peacekeepers guarding the corridor and tipped her head to greet them. They made no move to reciprocate the gesture, standing steadfast at their posts.

Once she reached her designated room she collapsed on the unmade bed with a sigh. They would be arriving in district five early the next morning so Genevieve wanted an early night. She went through her nightly routine slowly, unaccustomed to the luxuries now provided to her as a victor. She was infinitely glad for the shower that soothed her aching muscles and scrubbed any lasting makeup from her skin. Genevieve changed into a simple sleeping top and shorts and got to work drying her hair.

"Gigi!" A voice called out from behind her locked door and she had to refrain from groaning out loud. For some reason, all of her prep team and Daffodil had adopted that as a nickname completely out of the blue. "Give me one second." She called back, rubbing at her temples.

Once she had finished brushing out the knots in her long blonde hair, she opened the door and watched as Daffodil tumbled inside, excited and a little tipsy.

"There you are! I've just gotten word that Finnick will be joining us tonight, isn't that exciting." She squealed, tripping over her too-tall heels and nearly catapulting into Genevieve's arms. A twinge of something pulled at her stomach when she heard her mentor's name but she ignored it stubbornly.

"Mmm, that's nice." She replied, trying to guide Daffodil onto a chair. "I can't sit down, dear me. No, there's still so much left to do." The lime-haired woman exclaimed and rushed out the door, nearly crashing into Odair himself, who looked very surprised at the scene in front of him.

"Speak of the devil and he shall appear." Genevieve recited as Finnick stepped into the room and shut the door behind him with a quiet thump.

Away from prying eyes, Finnick slung his arms around her shoulders from behind and she made no effort to shrug him off. The rain continued to beat down on the tribute train from above creating an eerie atmosphere that made goosebumps emerge on the back of her arms and yet she'd never felt safer.

Because here Genevieve knew; there was no audience to perform for, there was no approval to be gained, there was no role she needed to play and there was no one to convince of anything.

And as the first rays of sunlight dipped below the horizon and cast a warm hue over her, she knew something better was slowly approaching and Genevieve had a feeling, it would be golden.