Spark to Flame: A Finniss Story

Pt III: Aftershock to Rubble

When Finnick awakens the next day, Katniss is nowhere to be seen.

He doesn't want to acknowledge it, but he is disappointed to see that she hadn't bothered to stay, more so than he probably should be under the circumstances.

He sits up in his over-sized bed and dangles his legs over the edge, bare feet coming to rest on the cold floor. The shocking temperature of the cement sends chills from his toes all the way up to his torso, and he just barely resists the urge to shiver.

He sits there, staring at his jumpsuit-clad legs and then at his feet and then at the floor, and fondly remembers the night before.

Katniss had been so quiet, so helpless and vulnerable. He may have grown accustomed to doing quite the opposite in beds these past few years, but he didn't mind in the least that all they had done was lie in each other's arms and keep warm for the night. It may have sounded cliché, but he genuinely enjoyed spending the night with her, to be able to be the one she let her armor down in front of.

He had stayed up a good portion of the night, well after she had gone to sleep, and just stayed by her side, watching her. She was so pretty when she slept; not that she wasn't gorgeous to him on a daily basis, but still. He remembered half expecting her to wake up screaming from nightmares, but was pleased to find that – at least for that night – that never happened to be the case.

He knew that it was wishful thinking, and far too soon for him to be entertaining such thoughts, but he hoped that Katniss would let him in more often - on an emotional level - as she had done last night. He knew that she was still broken and fragile and working things out in her own head, but he still held out hope that, with time, they would be able to get to the point he wanted them to be at, where they could talk and laugh and share things with each other without there being any tenseness or misunderstanding between them. Maybe one day...

Finnick exhales, swinging his feet back and forth, and quietly ponders what he's going to do today.

He comes up with nothing even after a few solid minutes of thinking, but decides that it doesn't really matter anyway. After all, what was the point of wasting his brain power on daily activities when there was nothing to do around this Godforsaken district in the first place?

Sighing, he slowly slides out of bed and puts on his shoes, mentally readying himself for the day.

~*~

He wanders rather aimlessly through the levels of District 13, letting his feet carry him wherever they will.

Somehow, he ends up at the cafeteria just in time for breakfast.

He grabs a tray and gets in line for his daily portion of eggs, water, burnt bacon, and instant potatoes. He honestly doesn't know how the district natives can even function properly with the consumption of such nasty looking gruel, but he figures that if they've been eating it for years (or however long they've been down here) it won't kill him over the course of a few months, or however long it takes to bring down Snow.

He finds a solitary table in one of the corners and sits himself down, not really paying much attention to anything, and rests his cheek against his fist as he pokes idly at his food. He nearly dozes off at one point, he's so tired, and has to shake himself awake before he ends up with his face in his potatoes.

He looks around to see if anyone witnessed his near blackout, and spots Katniss some yards away, food tray in hand.

She's talking and smiling with Gale, and he's about to turn his head away from the exchange in distaste when she notices him. He starts to curl his lip in disgust towards 'Gale', and he's just able to catch himself as his eyes lock with hers.