THE SIREN'S SONG 𓇼 F. ODAIR

53 ~ the wrath of cyrus snow

Finnick woke up in District 13. He didn't know how much time had passed, maybe hours or days. His eyes were bloodshot, either from all of the tears he shed on the hovercraft or possible ones from his nightmares, and his head throbbed from both medication and grief.

The walls around him were blindingly white, and the area around him smelt like antiseptic covered with a cheap fragrance. Not a single doctor or nurse was in sight, and the only other inhabitant was in the bed right beside him.

Her eyes were dim and refused to focus on a single thing for too long. Finnick knew she was attached to the same sedatives as him. They made everything fuzzy and dull, but it didn't cause sleep. But somehow, she still managed to have a stare full of emotion.

Hatred and anger.

"Katniss, Katniss, I'm sorry," Finnick's voice rasped. "I wanted to go back for him and Johanna, but I couldn't move."

Katniss remained silent, her gaze never leaving the white ceiling. Finnick felt as though he had been punched in the gut.

He had just spent his entire time in the arena protecting her, ready to sacrifice his life if it meant she could live to be the face of the rebellion. Carolina had just been taken to the Capitol to be tortured because she joined their alliance for the betterment of Panem.

And now, Katniss refused to even look at him.

"It's better for him than Johanna," Finnick continued. "They'll figure out he doesn't know anything pretty fast. And they won't kill him if they think they can use him against you."

"Like bait?" Katniss whispered. "Like how they'll use Carolina for bait, Finnick?"

They'll use her for much worse.

Finnick closed his eyes, trying to prevent even more tears from forming.

"I wish she was dead," Finnick said. "I wish they were all dead and we were, too. It would be best."

Katniss turned to Finnick with a look of perplexity on her face. Finnick held her gaze. He knew deep down that the girl was just as broken as him, perhaps even more, but she just showed it differently.

He was ready to be there for her, or at least try to be there for her. But, her next words had him breaking even more.

"I hate you."

She then turned back to the ceiling, and Finnick felt numb and alone. The two of them were fast asleep minutes later.

𓆝 𓆟 𓆞

Carolina's entire body was throbbing with pain, and she was incapable of moving her head without a flash of agony spreading throughout the rest of her figure. She had tight bandages wrapped around her arms, legs, and torso, and a brace around her neck nearly strangled her. Tubes were attached to both of her arms, dripping clear liquid into her bloodstream.

But those things weren't the first thing she felt when she woke up in the Capitol.

Instead, it was the clammy hand squeezing hers.

Her eyes opened slowly. The lights around her blinded her momentarily. She closed her eyes immediately in reflex, but when she opened them next, she wished she was still unconscious.

"Darling."

Cyrus's grip on her hand became tighter as he reached out his other hand to brush hair out of her face. He then moved it back to his lap, where it fiddled with something that Carolina couldn't entirely see.

He looked like he hadn't slept in days. His usually tame hair was disheveled and in desperate need of a comb. The bags beneath his eyes were purple and wildly apparent, and his face was scrunched up in an expression the Carolina hardly recognized.