Finnick and Annie

The Less You Know (Annie's POV)

Two weeks before the Quarter Quell announcement, Finnick went to the Capitol once more. He had been talking on the phone more often than usual, and I knew that there was something going on. I asked him a few times, but he insisted it was nothing. I even tried to eavesdrop on one of his conversation, but he saw me.

“Annie!” he said, “What the hell are you doing?”

“I would like to ask you the same question,” I snapped. He hung up the phone and walked away from me. “Finnick what is going on?” I yelled.

“Nothing!”

“Bullshit!”

“Stop worrying about it, nothing is going on!” he growled. I watched him, my mouth slightly open in surprise. Finnick had never used that tone on me; in fact, I didn’t remember the last time we had fought.

I turned my back to him, and walked towards our bedroom, he sighed and followed.

“I’m sorry Annie, let’s just go to bed alright?” He caught up with me, as I stepped into the room, and he hugged me from behind. I pushed his arms away and walked towards the bed while he watched me indignantly.

“You can sleep on the couch,” I said and threw him a pillow. “Until you decide to tell me what’s going on and stop treating me like I’m some sort of stupid, naïve girl.”

“I am trying to protect you,” he sighed, “you can’t handle the truth.”

“Right, I’m crazy… I’m mentally unstable,” I snapped.

“You are!” he huffed. I stared, shocked, as Finnick desperately tried to take back what he’d said, but the words had already slipped his mouth. “Annie, I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean-”

“I can’t believe you said that!” I shouted. I started throwing pillows at him, and when I ran out of those I took off my shoes and threw those too. I fell the tears falling freely from my eyes, and I didn’t want him to see me cry. I didn’t want him to see how deeply hurt I was. I stood up from the bed and pushed him out of the room, and then I slammed the door in his face.

“Annie, please, open the door,” he begged on the other side. “I didn’t mean that.”

I crawled up on the bed and hid under the covers, and I cried. I knew I was crazy, I was in fact mentally unstable, but Finnick had never said so. He was the one who defended me. He had gotten in fights at the market because people called me “Crazy Cresta.” He was the only person in the world who loved me despite my issues. He would hold me when I had nightmares, and he waited patiently when I would “zone out”, and now, when I needed him so much, he was on the other side of that door, begging me to let him in.

I wanted him to comfort me, I wanted to accept his apologies, but he had really hurt me, and every time I heard his words in my head, I got furious once more, so I left him outside, he deserved to feel guilty. So I went to sleep, feeling cold, and very hurt.

I slept a while, not very much though. I had a dream; I was reliving our fight. I saw Finnick’s face clearly as he called me crazy. I heard the voices in my head, repeating the same thing Finnick had said. You are crazy! Mentally unstable! He doesn’t trust you because you CAN’T HANDLE IT!

I told them to shut up, that they were lying, but this time, I knew it was true. Everything they were saying, everything Finnick had said was true. I was crazy… the voices were prefect proof. Normal people wouldn’t have those types of dreams.

“Stop it,” I said firmly, but their jeering continued. “Shut up!” I yelled. Crazy! Unstable! Stupid! “STOP IT! SHUT UP!”

I felt myself trembling, but I wasn’t feeling cold. I thought maybe it was out of fear, but I wasn’t scared of the voices, I knew they wouldn’t hurt me, at least not physically. My shoulders started shaking wildly, and I finally gasped awake.