𝐒𝐖𝐄𝐄𝐓 𝐒𝐄𝐃𝐔𝐂𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍 | 𝑭𝒊𝒏𝒏𝒊𝒄𝒌 𝑶𝒅𝒂𝒊𝒓

𝐅𝐎𝐑𝐓𝐘-𝐒𝐄𝐕𝐄𝐍.

Forty seven

The cannon fired once, twice, three times.

One of those kills belonged to Rosie, she tried reminding herself she did it to protect those she had to.

"Well, I guess we're not holding hands any more," Finnick laughed, showing off his mostly straight, white teeth. The joke didn't land, in fact, everyone just cringed a little—even Rosie.

Rosie dragged her clammy palms down her face, muttering to herself. It was just a loop of mantras begging herself to stay sane. Part of her mind tried to banish thoughts of who was still alive, if Kai was one of the three fallen Tributes, or if he was still running around. He'd made it clear that Rosie had two choices: she joins him, ally themselves and try to both get out like Katniss and Peeta, or she doesn't join him and she is on the top of his shit list.

Seeing as she was squatted next to Finnick, she had a massive target on her back.

In Rosie's mind, it wasn't a conversation about whether he would find her, it was a conversation about when he would. Kai had proven himself to be motivated by cruelty—the type of person who gets their mind set on something and becomes unwavering. She knew that he'd die if it meant he got to steal Rosie's last breath.

Kai was tall and strong. Ever since winning his Games, he'd dedicated himself to becoming the most dangerous man in District 9.

The sound of metal thwacking against wood bounced around the Victor's Village all too often. If it wasn't throwing weapons it was grunts from practising his hand-to-hand combat skills. If it wasn't that it was him hunting anything and everything, just to leave it to rot. Anyone who spent time in the Victor's Village would find dead game scattered around the grounds, a secret taunt to the people mere miles away, who were starving to death.

The man had no regard for the value of a life. He was—in Rosie's opinion—the textbook definition of a psychopath. And he had his sights set on her.

"You think that's funny?" Katniss asked with a quirk of a brow. She clearly didn't think the situation was funny; and she was right, it wasn't. But Rosie had come to realise that sometimes Finnick's mouth was bigger and quicker than his brain.

Wetting his lips Finnick doubled down. "Every time that cannon goes off," he gestures to the sky vaguely, "it's music to my ears," he asserts. "I don't care about any of them."

Straightening her spine Katniss nodded. "Good to hear," she replied plainly. What else could she say to that statement? He was very clear, it was an us versus them situation.

What Katniss didn't know was that she was included in Finnick's us.

The teenager slid a machete out from hidden with her arrows, eyes cold and hard as they burrowed into Finnick.

"Want to face the Career Pack alone?" Finnick asked, forever confident. "What would Haymitch say?"

"Haymitch isn't here," Katniss bit back.

Peeta's eyes met Rosie's, the young woman tipped her chin, a sign that they should stop the cold war and get further into the jungle. "Let's keep moving," Peeta broke the silent standoff.

Slowly everyone got to their feet, being mindful of the branches below them and their surroundings.

Rosie placed her hand on Finnick's back, smiling at the feel of the muscles under her palm twitching, then relaxing. "Don't antagonise her," she whispered with an unimpressed expression. "I'm meant to be the crazy one, not you."

"You're not crazy." Finnick helped Mags onto his back. He hated that she had been branded as crazy, she wasn't crazy, if she was somewhere normal, somewhere safe, she'd be absolutely fine. Happy, even.