𝔸𝕤𝕤𝕒𝕤𝕤𝕚𝕟 ⟢ 𝔽𝕚𝕟𝕟𝕚𝕔𝕜 𝕆𝕕𝕒𝕚𝕣

- ֆɛʋɛռȶɛɛռ

"Fuck you, Asher," Willa spat the moment Finnick left. She was taking her anger out on him even though he didn't deserve it. She was angry at Finnick. All Asher did was let him in. Asher took a step back, his eyes wide in surprise.

"Willa, I-" he tried saying.

"Don't," she snapped, brushing past him and running a hand through her hair in frustration. "Don't try to defend him. You didn't hear what he said."

"I heard enough," Asher replied, his voice steady. "I know Finnick cares about you. He just... has things he can't talk about. It's not personal."

"Not personal?" Willa laughed bitterly, her heart racing. "He's hiding things from me! Things that could get me killed in the arena! How is that not personal?"

Asher frowned, his brow furrowing as he tried to comprehend her fury.

"I get that you're upset, but lashing out at me won't help anything. I'm on your side," Asher said.

"Are you?" she shot back, glaring at him. "Or are you just his messenger, trying to play peacekeeper?"

He opened his mouth to respond, but Willa didn't give him the chance.

"You think it's easy to walk this line? To pretend to be what the Capitol wants while trying to hold on to a shred of who I am? Every time I let my guard down, it's like I'm giving them another piece of me, and I can't afford to lose any more! I'm losing Finnick because he's not opening up to me," Willa exclaimed. Willa let herself be vulnerable with Finnick. But now she was regretting that because he seemed to not trust her.

"You're not losing yourself, Willa. And what Finnick is trying to protect you from is bigger than both of you. You have to trust him, even if it's hard," he said, his voice firm yet compassionate. Willa froze. She turned to fully face him, vulneberaility in her eyes.

"You know what he was talking about?" Willa asked, her voice breaking. She was only letting herself express her emotions because she knew no one else would see. She was safe from the Capitol in the safety of their rooms.

Asher nodded, his expression reading guilty. What was so special about Asher? Finnick barely knew him. How was he more trustworthy then she was? Willa let out a frustrated groan and went to her room. She slammed her door shut and slid down the wall. She was unable to suppress her tears anymore. She wasn't mad at Asher, she was mad at Finnick. She didn't want to take her emotions out on the boy but she couldn't help it.

Willa sat against her door, her chest heaving with suppressed sobs. The hurt of being kept in the dark gnawed at her, twisting into a feeling she couldn't fully understand. Finnick had always been her anchor, the one person she believed would never betray her trust. And now, she felt more isolated than ever, unsure of where she stood with him or in this web of secrets and lies. Her fists clenched as she stared at the floor, the memories of her Games flooding back. She had killed for survival, had done unspeakable things, all in the name of winning—of staying alive. But through it all, she'd thought that she'd held onto something real with Finnick, something that made her believe she could be more than the Capitol's puppet. And yet, here she was, feeling like she was just another pawn in their twisted game.

A soft knock on her door jolted her out of her thoughts. She hastily wiped her face, trying to compose herself, but she didn't respond. She wasn't in the mood for more apologies or attempts to soothe her. She just wanted to be alone. But the knock came again, a little more insistent this time.

"Willa... it's me," Asher's voice said quietly from the other side.

"Go away," Willa said, her voice strained. The one person she wanted wasn't there. She wanted Katia. Katia would know what to do. She hugged her knees closer to her chest, her breathing shallow as she tried to keep her emotions in check. But the thought of Katia, her best friend and the closest thing she had to family, only made the ache in her chest sharper. Katia would have known the right thing to say, the way to make her feel grounded. She had a way of cutting through Willa's defenses, of seeing the girl beneath the victor, reminding her of her strength in a way that didn't hurt.