𝐌𝐚𝐧𝐢𝐩𝐮𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐨𝐫, Finnick Odair

𝑻𝒉𝒆 𝑷𝒓𝒐𝒎𝒊𝒔𝒆

Aphrodite stood on the balcony, wrapped in a pale blue silk dress that moved like liquid under the lights of the Capitol skyline. She took in the sights: the glowing towers, the busy streets, the glittering city she had been paraded through as a victor. And yet, even with all the lights, the Capitol felt colder than ever. This city was a gilded cage, her victories locked in its jewelled bars, ready to haunt her for the rest of her life.

Next to her, Finnick stood silently, his familiar presence both comforting and unsettling. She'd been in the hospital since her win, recuperating under strict supervision, barely having time to think. Now, it was almost time for her final interview with Caesar Flickerman, the last required public appearance for the games before the Capitol would set her free—or whatever freedom meant for a Victor.

"Aphrodite..." Finnick's voice broke her reverie, his tone laced with something she didn't recognize. Was it uncertainty? It was rare to hear Finnick so hesitant, so careful. She turned, meeting his gaze, raising an eyebrow as if daring him to go on.

The shadows softened around him as he looked at her, his sea-green eyes dark with concern. "We need to talk." He hesitated, searching her face as if gauging her readiness. She felt a slight chill as she looked into his eyes; her stomach knotted. "The next year... it's going to be hard. Adjusting to life as a Victor..." His voice trailed off, sadness shadowing his expression. She could see how much it pained him, and something else—a warning, hidden between his words.

Aphrodite turned away, her eyes sweeping back over the glittering skyline, her fingers gripping the balcony's edge tightly. "I know," she said, trying to sound steady, but her voice was strained. She wanted to believe she knew what life as a Victor would be like. How hard could it be after the horror of the Games?

But Finnick's silence was heavy, lingering like a fog around her words. Only a Victor could know what it was like—the isolation, the Capitol's grasp on them, the demands that could destroy even the strongest. And Finnick had seen it all, knew it all too well. 

He could sense the fracture lines in her already, the cracks the Games had left beneath her composed exterior. And in that moment, he felt a fierce, protective urge to shield her from what was coming. She deserved better than to be broken by the Capitol's twisted games, like so many others had been.

He took a deep breath and, with a gentleness she hadn't expected, placed his hand on her shoulder, turning her slightly to face him. His hand was warm, grounding her as he searched her eyes. "Aphrodite, I need you to promise me something." His voice was soft but unwavering, carrying a weight she couldn't ignore.

Aphrodite's breath caught, her throat tightening as she looked at him, feeling something close to panic rise within her. His voice, the way he was looking at her—it was almost too much. "What?" she whispered, her voice nearly breaking, as though one wrong word might shatter her.

The silence was thick between them as he held her gaze, his eyes steady, and she felt as if he could see every hidden fear, every moment of doubt. "If anything ever happens, you know you can—no, you have to tell me." His hand on her shoulder tightened gently, grounding her as he spoke, his voice laced with a kind of desperation she didn't expect. "I will always be there for you, Aphrodite. I need you to understand that."

His words stirred something in her—something frightening, raw, and confusing. She searched his face, trying to make sense of the emotions stirring in her chest. "Finnick... what do you mean?" she asked, a hint of confusion and fear lacing her words. "What's going to happen?"

Finnick bit his lip, glancing away as though his answer were too heavy to be spoken aloud. She saw the tension in his shoulders, the subtle clench of his jaw as he struggled to find the words. She had never seen Finnick Odair like this—nervous, conflicted, as if he were waging a silent battle. She felt her pulse quicken, fear creeping in at the edges of her thoughts.