𝐌𝐚𝐧𝐢𝐩𝐮𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐨𝐫, Finnick Odair

𝑻𝒉𝒆 𝑷𝒂𝒏𝒄𝒂𝒌𝒆 𝑩𝒐𝒚

The day after the kiss was quiet, but the tension between them was palpable. Aphrodite wasn't sure what to make of it, but when Otto went off to school, she found herself heading straight to Finnick's house without thinking twice.

She walked through the front door, and the familiar, comforting smell of pancakes immediately hit her. A wide smile spread across her face, and for a brief moment, she felt at home. Finnick always knew how to make the simplest things feel special.

"Hey," he said from the kitchen, looking up as she walked in. His voice was warm, almost like a hug, and his eyes flickered toward her with that unreadable look. They locked eyes, and for a moment, everything else fell away.

Finnick walked toward her, closing the gap between them in a few easy strides. He stopped just short, standing incredibly close. His eyes darted between her eyes and her lips, the invitation unspoken but clear. Aphrodite didn't hesitate. Without a word, she wrapped her arms around him, pulling him in as she met his lips with her own.

The kiss was soft but full of promise, lingering longer than she expected. When they finally pulled apart, Finnick kept his gaze fixed on her, a playful smile tugging at his lips, his expression soft and filled with something she couldn't quite name.

Aphrodite smiled back, her heart still racing. She wasn't sure what this was, but it felt... right.

And that was how the next week went. Every day, she dropped Otto off at school, and then made her way over to Finnick's house. The mornings were filled with pancakes—Finnick's favourite thing to make—and their time together was spent with easy conversations and lingering touches. Every time they kissed, it felt like something deeper was unfolding between them, and she couldn't bring herself to pull away.

She would lean in for one more kiss before heading out, and then it was the same again the next day. And the next.

Each kiss, each quiet moment together, only brought them closer, leaving Aphrodite unsure of exactly where they were headed but not caring. All that mattered was that in those fleeting moments, she felt something she hadn't allowed herself to feel in a long time: peace. And, maybe even something more.

It was simple and easy, but Aphrodite couldn't ignore the way her chest tightened whenever Finnick was near, how her heartbeat picked up when they locked eyes. She wasn't ready to say it out loud, but it was becoming more and more obvious—whatever this was, whatever they were becoming, it was something she wanted to keep.

But one day, that pattern changed. Aphrodite walked into Finnick's house, expecting the usual warmth of pancakes and the comforting sound of his voice. This time, though, the house was eerily quiet. She called out, "Finnick?" but there was no response.

Worried, she glanced around. The absence of the usual sounds made her uneasy. Before she could leave, a faint sobbing noise drifted up from upstairs. Her heart clenched. Without thinking, she rushed up the stairs, her footsteps quick and determined.

She followed the sound until she reached the bathroom. There, Finnick was standing in front of the mirror, his body shaking as he stared at the reflection. His eyes were red from crying, his face pale and strained. His fingers trembled as he gingerly touched the marks on his neck, red splotches of love bites, branding his skin like a painful reminder.

"Finnick?" Aphrodite's voice trembled as she stepped forward.

He jumped at the sound of her voice, turning to face her. The moment he saw her, he rushed to her, pulling her into his arms, burying his face in her hair as he sobbed. Aphrodite's heart ached at the sight, but she didn't pull away. She held him, letting him cry into her, trying to comfort him with the warmth of her presence.

"Aphrodite," he whispered through his tears. His voice cracked with emotion. "I need to go back to the Capitol... for a month."

Aphrodite pulled away from him, looking up at him, her heart suddenly heavy. "What? Why?"

Finnick turned back to the mirror, his eyes flickering over the marks, the evidence of what he'd endured. "Snow had a big buyer..." His voice trailed off for a moment, his eyes distant, as if the memory was too painful to hold onto. "And this was just a taste of what's to come. He wanted to make sure I knew I was still his... asset." He looked back at Aphrodite, his green eyes filled with both sorrow and desperation. "Aph, before I go through a month of hell, I have to ask you something... Will you be my girlfriend?"

Aphrodite's breath caught in her throat as she stared at him. His eyes were filled with so much emotion—fear, pain, and longing. It felt like everything was hanging in the balance at that moment. She took a deep breath, looking into his eyes as if searching for something to give her the strength to answer.

"I don't think I can make it through the Capitol without knowing you're waiting for me on the other side," he added, his voice quiet but full of conviction.

Aphrodite's chest tightened as she took in his words. The sincerity, the vulnerability—it all hit her like a wave. She reached up, cupping his face with her hands, and nodded. "Yes. Yes, I'll wait for you," she whispered, before pulling him into a kiss. It wasn't rushed, it wasn't frantic. It was a promise, a silent vow to hold on through whatever came next.

And just like that, another month passed with Finnick gone. Aphrodite kept herself busy, spending time with Mags, and enjoying casual shopping trips or quiet dips in the ocean. She missed Finnick, but she knew he had to do what he had to do, and she couldn't let that stop her from living her own life, even if her heart ached every moment he was away.

When Finnick finally returned, he collapsed into her arms as soon as she opened the door. His body felt drained as if he had left pieces of himself behind in the Capitol. She held him tightly, not saying a word, just allowing the silence to settle between them. In that moment, nothing else mattered. He was here, in her arms, and that was all she needed.

Another two weeks passed. Finnick spent most of the time lying in bed, exhausted, physically and mentally worn. But even in his silence, he never let go of her. He held her as if he was afraid to lose her again as if every second together was precious, a fragile thread holding them both together.

Aphrodite stayed by his side, never once questioning it. She had promised she'd wait, and now that he was home, she would make sure he knew that, no matter how long it took, she would be there. Through the pain, the uncertainty, and the distance, they would navigate it together. And for the first time in a long while, Aphrodite allowed herself to believe in something beyond the chaos of the Capitol: the quiet, steady connection between her and Finnick.