15 | GAIETY

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15 | GAIETY

Whether they knew it or not, their time in the arena was soon coming to an end

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Whether they knew it or not, their time in the arena was soon coming to an end.

And it all started today.

Throughout the night Greyson scratched at her skin, and so did the rest of them. The once agonizing blisters turned into ravenous itching that festered underneath the skin in anticipating taunts.

Katniss realized this as well, and her being up so early, she decided to take the matter into her own hands. Soon enough, Haymitch had sent down a jar of dark green ointment that smelled of dead pine needles and black tar. It wasn't pretty, but it was a necessity if they didn't want to continue scratching and get an infection.

Greyson sat next to Finnick who took the jar from Katniss as she let out a small sound of pleasure from the works of the medicine. Finnick eyed it warily. "It's like you're decomposing."

Greyson snickered and took it away from him, sticking her fingers into it and rubbing it into her skin. A sense of relief washed over her immediately. "If you're not going to use any, I'll just have to –" she teased him but knowing him, the itching won out.

Finnick grabbed the jar from her and started doing the same, putting it onto his face and arms until he was covered in the stuff.

"Poor Finnick. Is this the first time in your life you haven't looked pretty?" Katniss asked him with a smile on her face.

He didn't seem affected by it at all; actually, he looked content and Greyson was internally happy that he was. "It must be. The sensation's completely new. How have you managed it all these years?"

Katniss didn't miss a beat. "Just avoid mirrors. You'll forget about it."

"Not if I keep looking at you," he contorted.

The three of them started laughing, smiles on all of their faces and the sun's morning light gleaming in their eyes, making them brighter than usual. Greyson felt her breath catch in her throat as she stared at him. Finnick's hair wasn't styled nor was there any makeup on his face. He was just Finnick, a smiling, handsome Finnick. And, she thought that if there was one memory she wished to have of him; one picture embellished into her brain forever, it would be this moment.

Finnick caught her staring and his eyes softened and reached over to take her hand in his, bringing them up to his partially chapped lips to kiss her knuckles. It wasn't much of a sentimental notion but it could possibly be their last, so anything to feel him was exuberant.

Katniss shifted beside them. "I'm going to wake Peeta." She started to crawl over to the sleeping boy.

"No, wait," Finnick stopped her. He had a playful glint in his eyes. "Let's do it together. Put our faces right in front of his."

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