unforgivable ➸ finnick odair

T W E N T Y S I X

After my whole breakdown on the phone, Finnick and I formed a strange kind of friendship - strange as in it stemmed from prostitution, crying and venting to a listening ear. To be honest, the only reason that I had hated him before was the fact that he killed my sister, but if I had continued along that path I would've been a complete hypocrite, considering the fact that all the people I had killed the games probably had siblings as well. There was also the whole Capitol Playboy image that he projected, but the horrible truth was that all victors were forced to wear a mask in some way, shape or form; Finnick's was just incredibly well done. Underneath the fake layers of seductiveness and arrogance was a surprisingly light-hearted and funny guy who simply lacked a smidgen of humility.

A day or two following that first phone call, I was forced to leave the relative safety and comfort of District Five and travel to the Capitol for my first... appointment. I would be staying in the Capitol for a week after that - after all, it would not be good publicity if a high-profile victor only visited for a few days.

Because of course we can't absolutely despite the people who forced us to fight to the death in a goddamn arena, can we? I thought bitterly as the train swiftly shot through a pitch black tunnel, occasionally taking a sip of coffee for that beloved rush of caffeinated energy. After my initial freak-out about my new arrangement, my feelings towards the matter grew increasingly numb. Obviously I had no say in this whole prostitution thing, so panicking wouldn't make it any better for me.

With a hoodie and sunglasses securely in place, I slowly stepped out of the train, glancing around to make sure that my presence had gone unnoticed; press attention was the last thing had I wanted then. Taking a deep, calming breath, I quickly located my designated driver (apparently it was a thing that all victors had some professional driver and flash car to drive them around, who knew) and began to make my way over, fiddling absent-mindedly with the straps of my overly tight black dress (something Finnick had recommended to me after I had calmed down) as I went.

It was time.

- skipping the nitty-gritty details of the whole prostitution thing and please don't expect this to change, i'm only 13 and would really like to not have to write about that stuff, it just makes me really uncomfortable- (also changing up the pov a bit in this next section)

To her credit, Electra makes it all the way back to the victor's apartment block before it all came crashing down.

The person living in Room Number 73 on the 7th floor of an apartment building situated on 17 Augustus Road had been a rather large man called Aiden Henderson, who was dyed head-to-toe in purple and had vibrant purple hair, purple eyeshadow, purple lipstick - pretty much purple everything. At a different time, the brunette would've found his appearance incredibly funny, and it would've taken that-universe-Electra all of her effort to stop herself from cracking up in front of him.

This-universe-Electra, however, just thinks of grotesque hands pressed against her thighs and stubby fingers tangled in her hair and manages to stumble into the elevator and slam the doors shut before bursting into tears, pressing her back against the wall and sliding down to the floor, messy rivers of black mascara streaming down her face as she muffles her sobs into the palms of her hands.

(It's half past midnight and here she is, slumped against the cold metal sides of an elevator in the Capitol with tousled brown hair and a hastily thrown on black dress, a mess of tears and makeup staining her pale fingers as Electra furiously wipes away the tears that just keep on coming. What a mess she has become)

The elevator takes what feels like years to reach the 6th floor, but when the telltale ding sounds, it takes all of the strength and effort Electra has left to push herself to a standing position. She's just tired. So, so incredibly tired, because everything was supposed to go away after the arena and it didn't. She went through all different kinds of hell in a fake forest fantasy and came out to a world that refused to let her rest, refused to let her fade into the background and live the rest of her life in relative peace, refused to let her just be.

This is what pain is, she realizes as her brain muddles through her thoughts. A hollow feeling in her chest, this continuous feeling of loss, like something vital had been involuntarily torn from her and thrown away, never to be returned. So much has been stolen from her over the years that Electra is sure that although her physical heart may be intact, her emotional being must be riddled with holes and gashes, bleeding tears and blood and hurt as it pounds against her chest. 

This is what pain is. Like she is drowning in a dark, bottomless ocean, and no one is coming to save her.

Her fist comes up on her own accord and knocks on the door twice, because even though her emotional heart may be hurt it is still beating, and Electra Reine refuses to let herself drown. 

So what does she do?

She knocks on the door of one of the only people who might be able to save her.

---

Finnick is absent-mindedly scrolling through the messages on his phone, his gaze lit up by his lamp - the only source of light in his room - when someone knocks on his door. Only victors were allowed in the apartment block, so he at least knew that it wasn't someone from the press and media, but there were only a few victors living in the building at a time, so he had no idea which one it was. There was also the fact that it was midnight, but victors were night owls at heart so that didn't really narrow it down.

Brow furrowed in confusion, he dropped his phone on his desk and rose from his chair, running a hand through his bronze hair as he approached the door and grasped the door handle with his right hand.

As soon as he pulls the door open, he finds himself with an armful of a sobbing brunette victor from District Five, who definitely hadn't been his first guess for a mystery midnight guest. And then Electra starts gasping for breath in his arms (in the least romantic way possible), and Finnick realizes that he's got a much bigger issue to deal with than why Electra Reine was roaming the streets of the Capitol at midnight.

Of course, despite being a widely proclaimed 'ladies man', Finnick has no idea how to calm down a crying girl (though really, does any guy?), so he settles for rubbing circles on her back and hauling her over to his bed - for comfort reasons only. 

"F - Fi - Finn-nick - " Electra choked out through her sobs, breaths rasping through her throat as her grip tightened on his jacket. Her nails were digging into the fabric with a sort of desperation, as if she refused to let go. 

"Shhhh," Finnick murmured in her ear, hugging the crying girl closer into his chest as realization struck him. "It's okay, it's okay. It's okay, Electra. It's okay."

Because it was. Because Finnick had been in her exact position last year, and his reaction hadn't been better than hers. And even with her makeup running down her tear-streaked face and her entire body shaking as she cried, Electra still looked beautiful, in a strange way, with her messed up hair and awkward half-hug.

Through Electra's vice-like grip, Finnick slowly inched out an arm to switch off his lamp, leaving the room in total darkness.

"It's okay," he whispered again as she continued to bury her face in his chest, leaning back and laying his head on his pillow. "It's okay." Electra murmured something unintelligible back, her voice muffled by the fabric of his t-shirt, and Finnick chuckled quietly as they lay in near-total darkness, the moonlight filtering through his thin curtains the only light he could see.

And then he blinked and stared down at the victor slowly calming down in his arms as he realized what his heart had been trying to tell him all along.

Oh, I'm fucked.

this was probably a really bad chapter but like it was always going to be, with the whole prostitution thing and all :/

- my own personal headcanon for finnick is that he falls in love really quickly & really deeply. Electra, on the other hand, is still really unsure as to what love is - the only type of love she's ever felt is familial love for her mother and sister, so she has to still work out all the emotions that being in love involves before embracing it.