Waves Crashing (Finnick Odair)

Breakfast Realizations

Full fathom five thy father lies;
Of his bones are coral made;
Those are pearls that were his eyes:
Nothing of him that doth fade
But doth suffer a sea-change
Into something rich and strange.
Sea-nymphs hourly ring his knell:
Ding-dong.
Hark! now I hear them,--ding-dong, bell.

-Full Fathom Five, William Shakespeare

**Author's Note:**  

**Please Read!**  

This chapter begins to explore Finnick's experiences with sexual assault. If this topic is a trigger for you, please refrain from reading any further in the book. I believe this issue is a significant aspect of his character and, therefore, deserves proper attention. 

Thank you.

I couldn't sleep.

My eyes had been fixed on the ceiling for the last 45 minutes. 

I was going to go insane.

I huffed, sitting up abruptly. Why in the world couldn't I sleep?! I pushed the plush blue comforter off of me and stood on the cold ground. My feet pattered against the stone-like floors, the sounds echoing in the silent apartment. 

I retraced my steps from earlier that night into the living room. The couches were fluffy and a beautiful velvety cerulean with pearls embroidered on the seams. I ran my hand over the pearls, remembering my father's pearl necklace. I started freaking out until I remembered that I had handed it to Librae along with my notes. 

I sat down, yelping as I was almost swallowed whole by the couch. It took me a while to get comfortable on it, but when I finally did, I nearly felt content. 

I didn't know how long I sat in the darkness. I had been in the middle of formulating my plan to help Silas win when I heard the elevator open. I looked up to see Finnick walk into the apartment. I blushed. He wasn't wearing a shirt, and his pants looked like he'd worn them to Hell and back. 

His feet dragged him to the hallway, where the bedrooms were. He looked tired—more than tired. I wondered what had happened to him. I had never seen him look so disheveled. 

'It was probably an overeager fan that ripped his shirt off,' I reasoned to myself, 'It wouldn't be too surprising. He's popular.'

I retreated back into my mind, thoughts of Finnick overtaken by thoughts of helping Silas survive. 

The morning came before I knew it, and I was still sitting on the couch thinking. My mentor was the first to get up. She came and sat with me on the couch, not speaking a word, which made me oddly glad. 

Next to get up were Silas and Finnick. By the time they woke up, breakfast was already on the table, and Librae and I were already eating. I started eating a red apple, nibbling on it bit by bit. 

I examined Finnick. His tanned neck was filled with bruises. Tiny ones that traveled down and disappeared underneath his white v-neck shirt. They were hickies, I realized. That would explain why his shirt was missing the night before. I would have thought that this was normal; after all, he was known to take on lovers, except for the fact that his skin was red. It was almost crimson, scrubbed raw with a cloth. Not only that but there were scratches on his arms as if he was clawing at himself. Librae looked at him worriedly, which was how I confirmed that something was terribly wrong. 

I never took my eyes off of him. Something was going on. He felt my stare and began to return it. I didn't look away. He probably thought that I was strange, but I didn't really care. I had always valued empathy above reputation.