Finnick and Annie (Short Stories)

Let's Not Pretend

Prompt: Finnick and Annie talk for the first time since Annie's games

He hadn't said a word to her since she'd won the games, granted, he couldn't have if he'd tried. The Annie that emerged from the arena was not the same girl he'd spent late nights talking to, light, radiant, funny. She was broken and scarred and though that didn't keep him from trying, Annie absolutely refused to talk to him.

He spent most of the days after the games getting updates from the doctors and psychiatrists that prodded and tested her. Traumatized, they'd all agreed, it'll go away with time. So he helped her through the process the best he could, escorting her places, making sure she was alright, but once they'd returned to the district she retreated into her house, only a few feet away from his own, yet if he didn't know better he could have guessed Annie Cresta didn't live there.

He knocked several times, tried to check up on her but her father assured him that she was okay and wanted to be left alone. The few times he saw her, she was sitting on the dock their two houses shared, contemplating the horizon, fixated so intensely on the dipping sun he wondered if there was something else there he wasn't seeing.

He sat on the worn wooden boards one evening, a fishing rod in one hand and a book in the other. He was deeply focused on his novel and the waves and the wind made it hard to hear her footsteps, so when Annie Cresta sat on the wooden planks beside him Finnick Odair nearly fell into the water.

He watched her uncertainly, waiting for her to speak first, but she remained silent. For a while, she wouldn't meet his eyes and Finnick started to wonder if she even noticed him there. "Hey," he finally said.

"Hey," she whispered back, still avoiding his gaze.

"I can leave if you want..."

"You don't have to," she shrugged. "I'm just here to watch the sunset."

"Yeah, sorry. I usually do my fishing in the morning but I slept in late today."

"Capitol wore you down, didn't it?" she asked, finally looking at him.

He'd returned from the Capitol the day before and he still had the bag under his eyes to prove it. "You could say that." He put his book down and reeled in another fish to add the the pile in his bucket. "You can take some home if you want."

"Thanks," she answered coldly, watching her own feet glide through the water.

"Why do you hate me?" he asked. "If this is about me being a jerk before the games, I'm sorry..."

She waved her hand dismissively. "I don't hate you."

"Then?"

"Then nothing, Finnick. We're not friends, we never were. You were my mentor. What's the point in pretending?" He sighed and gathered his fishing gear. Though he wan't friends with anybody else in the Victor's Village besides Mags it bothered him that Annie refused to even chatter politely.

"Yeah, Annie. Guess you're right, sorry I bothered you." He walked away with his rod and his bucket of fish and Annie watched him as he disappeared behind a sliding door.

The sun slowly made its way towards the horizon, changing the hues of the sky from blue to pink. She faced away from Finnick's house and grabbed the book he'd left behind as he'd stormed away. Flipping though the pages she traced the ink markings he'd scribbled sloppily on the margins, the dog-eared pages.

She hugged the book to her chest and looked out at the horizon until the final rays of light melted away into the sea and the stars begin to light up the heavens instead. Though her brain fought against the idea, she thought about knocking on his door to return the book, then maybe she'd get the chance to talk to him again.