unforgivable ➸ finnick odair

T H I R T Y F O U R

KATNISS POV (still third person though)

Katniss and Peeta sat stiffly on the couch, the Girl on Fire still bristling from the previous conversation.

It's not about trust. It's about staying alive. Her gaze darted to Peeta for a brief moment, stomach fluttering from nerves, before her focus returned to the television, which was showing the Reapings of the other districts.

From District One, a man and a woman held their hands up to the roars and cheers of the crowd. They were both beautiful, the woman with her long blonde hair spilling over tight black leather and sharply defined cheekbones, the man with his angular face and glittering eyes, shimmering alongside his half-sheer outfit.

"Cashmere and Gloss," Haymitch said, sounding more serious than she was used to. "Brother and sister. District 1. They won back-to-back Games, Capitol favourites, lots of sponsors. They will be lethal."

Katniss looked at the screen, where the two were still smiling, and wasn't surprised at all. They looked like they could cut her with their smiles, as sharp and dazzling as diamonds. 

The screen changed, moving to District Two. A large, bald man and a woman with wild dark hair had their hands raised to the sky, with the woman baring her razor-sharp teeth at the camera.

"And the other half of the Career Pack - Brutus and Enobaria."

"What's with her teeth?" Peeta asked, looking disturbed.

"She had them filed into fangs so she could rip people's throats out."

Katniss blinked. Peeta gave a half-hearted laugh.

"She's committed, I'll give her that."

Again the screen moved onto the next district, where a man with thick-framed glasses and a small, quivering woman with short dark hair stood. 

"Wiress and Beetee. Not fighters, but brilliant. And... weird. Real tech-savvy." Haymitch moved his hand in Beetee's direction. "He won his Games by electrocuting six Tributes at once."

She shivered, biting the inside of her cheek and lifting her head up. Both from Three looked harmless, but Haymich's comment quickly changed her mind. It was hard to get her head around the fact that all 24 tributes in the Arena would be experienced killers, instead of ordinary citizens.

"The Morphlings," their mentor said as two more victors appeared on the screen. Both were clothed in black, clinging to their sallow, sagging skin. Their eyes were rimmed with black. They looked haunted. "Masters of camouflage. Basically won their Games by hiding until everyone else was dead. Self-medicating ever since, which I applaud; not a threat." She stared at the two hollow husks on the stage and swallowed, wondering if in a few years she could've been like them - baggy eyes and colourless skin.

The next person on the television, she recognised. "Finnick Odair, right?" she said, nose wrinkling a bit. His lips were stretched into a smile as he raised his hand and ambled to the centre of the stage, exuding confidence with every languid step.

"Yes. He won his Games at 14, youngest ever. Extremely humble." Katniss snorted as they watched him stand, green eyes glinting in the sunlight, head moving to an inaudible rhythm. He looked composed, relaxed, as if he wasn't being sent back into the arena to kill his friends. It infuriated her.

"You're kidding," she said flatly. Finnick Odair, humble? The very idea of it was hilarious.

"Yes, I'm kidding. He's a peacock, a total preener. But he's the Capitol darling. They love him there. Charming, smart, and very skilled at combat, especially in water." Peeta sat up, looking intently at the screen.