𝙏𝙝𝙚 𝙍𝙖𝙫𝙚𝙣 𝙤𝙛 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝘾𝙖𝙥𝙞𝙩𝙤𝙡, 𝙁𝙞𝙣𝙣𝙞𝙘𝙠 𝙊𝙙𝙖𝙞𝙧

𝒞𝒽𝒶𝓅𝓉𝑒𝓇 41: 𝒜𝒸𝓇𝑜𝓈𝓈 𝓉𝒽𝑒 𝑅𝑜𝑜𝓂

Three months until the 70th Hunger Games. 

        The television was playing in the background. The slight crackle of the odd wiring along with the commentary on the TV keeps Raven company as she attempts cooking a decent looking soup. Opal is back in one of her fits again, completely unable to care for herself. If not for Raven, Opal would still be in the same clothes as last week.  

        Although, Opal has enough sense to slap away Raven's hand every time she jokingly reaches for her own bag of morphling. 

        Today on the TV isn't the usual replay of the Capitol's odd fashion shows, the required daily anthem, and President Snow appreciation. It's a play of the current life of the living victors. Raven isn't paying much attention until it goes into a livestream of the plethora of victors living in District 4.  

        Of course, the most famous of them all is interviewed first. 

"How is the Golden boy doing?" 

"About as well as I can," Finnick says, a charming smile on his face. "I've been swimming and just getting to spend time with many of my friends." 

"Of course, we cannot forget your multiple breath-taking friends. Of course, I could beat around the bush and ask about every single one of them, but I think we all know who we're most curious about!" 

        Raven rolls her eyes at the Capitol accent the man who's interviewing Finnick has. This little quip at the end of each sentence, the high pitched tones of excitement that resembled a 2 year old. 

"Ah, yes!" Finnick nods. "We are referring to you, correct?" 

        The man playfully swats Finnick's arm, an undeniable pink rising to his cheeks. 

"Oh please, Finnick. Must I really say it? Our little birdie! The Raven of the Capitol. How is the little birdie doing?" 

        Raven tenses, leaning slightly over to make sure she observes every single cue on Finnick's ace, every movement and most of all, every word. Any hint that he felt what she did. Even Opal lazily lifted her head, even through a foggy mind. 

        "Oh god, Raven." Opal rolls her eyes, flopping her head back onto the sofa. 

        Raven couldn't help but turn red from embarrassment. "Yes, I know. I know. It can never happen." 

        Opal had little enough energy to groan, shake her head, and then doze off again. 

"Good." He licks his lips slightly. A small gulp. Raven takes it all in. "We've been sending each other letters more often. We've been getting more opportunities to talk. Far more!" A small chuckle. 

        A chuckle? Was it to continue his charm? Was it out of nervousness. Raven thinks but can't come up with an answer. She feels her chest poundings and blood rushing to her cheeks along with the tapping of her leg. A flush of warmth through her. 

        The interviewer tries to press for more details on the letters, but Finnick insists it's private. Raven can't help but smile. She isn't sure if it's her overthinking, or her being delusional, but she can almost insist that the exchanges between them have been... different as of late. 

        They've been more comfortable and open in the letters to each other, yes. Of course, knowing each other for almost four years, that is bound to happen. Yet, it's more than that. A sense of hinting? Some flirtatious undertones? Words people may never say to a supposed friend. Far more "I love yous" than usual.