Rising Tide

THREE

I board the sleek train in silence. Cerabelle speaks enough about the Capitol, and how 'wondrous a place it is', that she may as well be having a conversation with herself, apposed to one with me. I nod my head slightly every couple minutes, feigning the appearance of interest on my part. To be honest I am anything but interested in the Capitol right now. All I know is that because of them I am being taken away from my family and shipped to my death.

I study Cerabelle as I take a seat on an overly plush, lime green sofa. Her hair is in tight, lavender, corkscrew curls which matches her lavender skin that is only a few shades lighter than the hair. Her eyelashes are long in an artificial way, reaching all the way to her eyebrows. Her purple eyebrows to be exact. Her lips are painted the same daisy yellow as her dress and a few gemstones litter her face, completing her look. She looks like a royal disaster, although I would never tell her that. That would be rude.

"Ah, Finnick," Cerabelle chirps, stealing my attention from my dazed state once more, "how lovely it is to see you again."

I concentrate on the wood flooring, avoiding his gaze to the best of my ability. I do not want to look him in the eyes right now. That would mean asking him the questions I have been skirting around. Like why he had volunteered, what his words had meant, and why I can not stop thinking about him since having got on this train.

Now is not the time to be thinking about boys, Arista. No matter how cute they may be.

No, scratch that. Finnick Odair is not cute. He is a god of the sea. His bronze skin reminds me of melted copper when he moves. Every fluid step he takes makes the molten metal that is him, or at least seems to be him, swim. His hair is bleached a golden blond by the sun, another precious metal to add to the creation that is Finnick. His eyes are blue like the shallow tides in District Four. A blue that can be perceived as either mysterious or all bearing. I have yet to see his eyes when they are a completely open book. His lips are a soft, plump pink. Kissable in every standard.

But that is just it. As handsome as Finnick Odair is, he can never be mine because, in order to get home to my family, he will never be able to go home. It is either him or me, and, if I can help it, it is going to be me. As I was getting on the train, just moments ago, I had come to a conclusion. There is no way that I am leaving my Spike behind. I will get home to him or I will die trying. I will fight to the very end.

I hear footsteps approach my seat, stopping only when appearing right infront of me. Whoever it is is not wearing shoes. Whoever it is has skin kissed by the sun. I guess that rules out Cerabelle by every sense. She would never be caught without heels that rival the height of the community hall in Four. She also has purple skin, meaning the only other person these feet could belong to is him.

I study the floor, ignoring Finnick and praying that he will walk away. The room soon fills with a loud silence to which Cerabelle interrupts. I guess she could not handle the voices in her head yelling at her. I know I never can.

"I will be in my room if either of you two need me. Dinner will be served at seven in the dining car."

She takes her leave after that, gracefully gliding from the room in a way that someone as clumsy and awkward as me would never be able to achieve. Although she is from the Capitol, I almost respect her. She is as naive as they come but I have to hand it to her, she is polite and lady like. I like that about her.

"Arista," his voice breaks the quiet atmosphere, sending shivers dancing down my spine. My name sounds like a song coming from his lips. A beautiful preview for something that will be canceled before it is even started. A tragedy at its finest.

Snap out of it, Ari. You are being ridiculous.

"Finnick," I reply, speaking as loud as I dare which, in this case, is not much louder than a whisper. Somehow I fear that if I say his name too loud it will disappear. He will disappear.