𝕎𝕒𝕥𝕖𝕣, 𝕎𝕒𝕥𝕖𝕣 | 𝐅𝐢𝐧𝐧𝐢𝐜𝐤 𝐎𝐝𝐚𝐢𝐫 [Hunger Games]

Books & Apologies

↳ SIX ↵

The comforting smell of a great book always seemed to bring me home.

My hand was brushing against the old spines of the books in my favorite used book store in District Four, Seaside Books. The store had books from as long ago as the Americas from books as recent as last year sitting on the shelves, all yearning to be pulled out and read.

I had been back home for a week now, and I have never felt so thankful to be in the district. I missed the sandy shores and Mag's weird cooking. Since I didn't want to move out of Mag's house, I unofficially donated my home to the District Four Orphanage, since there were no rules stating that I couldn't. I just made sure that I had chosen the house all the way at the end of the village, closer to the town rather than the other Victors. Not wanting the children to disturb the other Victors or for it to look too suspicious.

I stopped my slow walk along the shelves as I found a book that caught my eye. The book had gold designs on the spine, and in big black cursive, it said, A Tale of Two Cities.

I pushed the sleeves of my loose sweater up as I reach on my tippy toes to grab the book. I felt one shoulder of my sweater slip further down my shoulder. My attempts were in vain because not only was I far too short to reach the book, but someone else grabbed it from behind me.

I turned and was greeted with the incredibly handsome face that could only belong to Finnick Odair. His charming smirk was locked on his face as he held the book, I was trying to reach, in his hands, reading the cover, "A Tale of Two Cities," he made a clicking noise with his tongue as he handed it to me, "Sounds boring," he grinned at me, revealing his pearly white teeth.

I blow the piece of hair that had fallen in front of my face with a humph, "Thanks," and with that, I spin on the heels of my boots and continue to look at the shelves for another book to grab.

I try not to roll my eyes as I am overtaken by the strong scent of cologne and the beach, while I walk. I grab another book that looks interesting and hug it close to my chest with the others, "What do you want Finnick."

My eyes don't leave the rows and rows of books as I listen to him, joyfully say, "I just wanted to welcome you back home."

I nod my head, grabbing a thin book of poems that I think would be a nice thing to read on the beach. I notice the weight of the books is beginning to get a bit heavy, but I continue to look for more books, used to the feeling and desperate to avoid Finnick.

I sigh realizing that Finnick wasn't planning on leaving even after I grab five more book. I sigh turning to face victor, "I'm happy to be home."

My response seems to brighten his mood even more as he gives me a breathtaking smile. One that he used to give me when we were younger, "I heard you were still going to school at the academy?"

I bite my lip with a small smile, laughing at myself, I look up at Finnick, "Yeah, I am. As crazy as it is, I still want to finish learning," I rest my back on the shelves while Finnick leans his arm over my head to lean closer to me, seeming to be honestly interested in what I had to say, "I know I don't need to, but I would really like to graduate. I know most of it is based on warfare but I enjoyed the academics we did have. Believe it or not, I miss dance classes even with Mr. Ebb as a teacher," and he was horrible. I would never say it aloud but if it weren't for the dance classes I had taken at the academy I'm not sure if I would have been so lucky in the games, which is saying something considering I won out of pure luck.

A frown falls on my lips at the thought, You shouldn't be alive. You don't deserve to live when you didn't even fight.

Finnick laughs, and for a split second, it feels like we never stopped talking, like we were still best friends. And in that second the enormous weight on my chest lifts just a bit.

"You were always so smart," Finnick said looking at the stack of books in my hands, opening the cover of the first with one of his large fingers before letting it fall with a gross look on his face as he looked at the number of pages inside. I giggle at his reaction, it was just like when we were younger. I grab it and add it back to my pile.

"Do you still sing?" Finnick asked me.

"Yeah," I reply shocked that he remembered that small detail. Putting the books down to look at him, "I sing at the orphanage."

"Right," Finnick nods, "Mags told me that you donated your home to the orphanage because you wanted to stay with her."

I look up at him sadly, "She needs someone to look after her," I tell him although by the look on Finnick's face we both know that isn't my real reason. I needed someone to look after me. Someone to stay with me when I became too much. I subconsciously play with my fingers as I feel Finnick's gaze move from me to my fingers, pulling my hands apart.

I couldn't ignore the warm, tingling sensation that shot through my fingers until it made its way to my cheeks. My pale blue eyes meet Finnick's stormy green ones as I tried to steady my breathing, not showing how much of an effect he had on me. Because even after all he has done, I still don't trust anybody more than I trust Finn.

Finnick's face was filled with concern as he said, "It's okay to not be okay. It's okay to need somebody," Finnick's eyes shine as he looks at me almost waiting for me to tell him about the nightmares I have been having watching Velvet's skeleton or Wick's dead eyes that seem to glower at me when I look in the mirror or worst the voices in my head telling me that I shouldn't be alive because I didn't deserve to win. The voices that sometimes win out over the others and push me one step closer to the end. 

Velvet deserved to win.

I shake my head, grabbing my books again as I move away., trying to hide my glossy eyes. Finnick stands in my way as I glower at his tall stature, "Why are you talking to me now, Finnick? Because I won?"

Now it's Finnick's turn to look guilty as he nervously looks around like he was worried someone would hear us. I eagerly wait for the answer to the question that haunted me for years. Holding the heavy stack of books tighter to my chest, I watch as Finnick's lips curve to form a sentence before he stops and lets out a deep sigh, running his hands through his perfectly curled hair.

"Seeing you in that arena," Finnick whispered, and I could see the pain in his expression as he spoke, "I can't imagine, what I would have done if you died in there," his voice cracking at the end.

I felt my heart skip a beat at his words. I always figured he had simply gotten bored of hanging around with the child next door and stopped once he didn't have to anymore. I especially didn't think that he cared when I was chosen for the Games.

"I missed you, ya know," I quietly said, smiling at him, trying to make him feel better.

It seemed to work because a boyish grin made its way on his face as he took the books from my hands and carried them effortlessly in one hand as he jokingly scoffed, "Of course you did, Rosie."