Allied Hearts - Finnick Odair

Chapter 8.

Staring up at my bedroom ceiling the same thoughts were swirling around my head for hours on end. After leaving the training centre I was in no mood for my Father and dismissed myself to bed early.
Not like I got any sleep though, each time I drifted visions of the tributes would appear in my head and suffocate my mind.

Today is the day.
The Tribute Parade.
The last day I'd see all of them except one.

My heart sank as the reality set in. It was a cruel practise, and I was foolish to become attached to the Tributes when I knew what was happening. But I was attached, and I didn't want to watch them fight to the death.

My thinking time was cut short as a light knock serenaded on my door, shortly followed by Ava.
Ava was my appointed 'maid' but I never like to think of her that way, she's more like a motherly figure to me.

'Your Father is waiting for you to join him for breakfast sweetie.' Internally groaning I stomped out of bed unhappy at the thought of my Father.

He loved this day, all the Tributes dressed up and fighting for sponsors and attention was his favourite part of the whole thing. Almost like he wanted to see how desperate they were to survive, how much they could get people to like them.

'If you get back in here for two o'clock I'll help you get ready for the Parade, then maybe you won't hate it as much as every other year.' Giving her a grateful hug I left my bedroom to greet my Father.

Behind me I could hear her shuffling about, cleaning around my room. I wish she never had to, she's so much more than a maid to me. She's been there for me ever since my birth mother died, everything I ever needed she'd provide;
bottles, food, diaper changes.
Even with me growing old she never left, in my mood swings and tantrums to my happiest nights and wildest dreams.

I shuffled through the long halls, dragging my feet across every expensive carpet just to prolong getting to breakfast. Weirdly no servants were loitering in the halls like they usually were, an eery loneliness surrounded me. Never a good sign when Snow wanted to speak to someone with no company about.

Suddenly my mind started to wander, thinking of all the possibilities of what was going to happen. Maybe it was my time? He may have had enough of me. Would he really kill me? His own daughter? Mentally snapping myself out of the paranoid state I was in I entered the hall.

President Snow was sat at the end of the dining table surrounded by an assortment of untouched food. His face remained unreadable as I desperately searched for answers. I glanced around the room and noted that once again no one was in here with us.

He never said a word to me as he instructed me to sit using only his old and frail hands. The hands that had so much blood on them but no remorse. Reaching over he turned on the projector and I casted my focus on Ceaser Flickerman, the host of the hunger games. Whatever my Father was mad about is clearly on this broadcast.

Ceaser had bright green hair this year, it always seemed to change. And a bright yellow suit drowning out all of his features as the colours began to merge together in my head. How did his stylists not get a head ache with all these bright colours?

'And now for a little young love. Finnick Odair and Alia Snow seem to have found love in the most tragic circumstance. Take a look at how adorable this pair is.' I cringed at his word. I wasn't in 'love'. The Capitol literally take any little thing and turn it into a big drama.

It continued on to show me and Finnick with that silly paint war. I didn't even realise any cameras were on. A whole montage of clips of the two of us were shown from both the training days, adding emphasis on every time we were close. I looked at my Father who looked repulsed by the scenes displayed in front of him.

'You've seen it before obviously so I don't know what that face is for.' He's another one who loves a big scene over nothing.

'Oh young lady I don't think you're in any place to talk. I knew this would happen. You just had to push it didn't you?' Anger intertwined in his gruff voice.

I raised my hands in defence.
'It's not a love story, I've known him for two days. I spoke to all the Tributes Father'

'You have made the Games seem like one big joke. There's nothing left to do except make an example of what you've created. Just always remember, you caused this.' Walking out with a temper as high as the roof he ruffled my hair as he went past, in the most patronising way possible.

I knew exactly what his threat meant, he was going to do anything he could to kill Finnick in the games. He was right, Finnick's blood would be all over my hands if he didn't make it. He had to make it.

I sat for hours at that dining table, the morning passed by and all I did was stress about the whole situation. Hoping and praying Finnick would make it through. He was strong. He had to be, for me. I can't lose one of the only true relationships I've found. Someone who doesn't work for my father or is being fake kind to me like the Capitol.

I needed Finnick.