Stay with me? [Finnick Odair]

110

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Chapter one hundred and ten
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Snow has been tried and found guilty. He awaits execution. Katniss and I are told by Haymitch and Cosmo. My Sparrow outfit arrives in my room one day, but I don't receive my throwing knives. I'm not the one to carry out the execution. Katniss is the one to do it, as she was the one to ask to kill Snow personally, but I am ordered to be there standing beside her as she goes through with it. I don't know if I should be preparing for it in any way. I try asking Cosmo what I should be doing in the days leading up to the execution, but he just informs me to keep my suit clean and protected.

So, that's exactly what I do. If no other preparation is needed, then I won't do any preparation. Simple.

In my spare time. When I'm not tending to Finnick or Mae, or even Cosmo, I like to wander around the mansion. Even though I'm not supposed to leave my room, I still wander around aimlessly. Thanks to the bracelet on my wrist, most of the guards ignore me. Some of them take me back to my room, explain to me that I shouldn't be wandering around without permission, but I just ignore them and make sure to avoid them the next time I leave my room.

One day, I wander into the library. It's unbelievable just how many books can fit into one room. There's no librarian, just a few tables dotted around the room — the rest of the space is filled up with large shelves that are filled to the brim with books.

I spend a lot of my time in here leading up to the execution, skimming through all the books that Snow has collected over the years. Part of me doesn't want to touch them, fearing that they have been poisoned by his touch, but the other part of me — which is much stronger — wants to read every single book in the room. I want to see just what types of literature Snow liked to read in his spare time. It's hard to believe that he liked to read, let alone that he read fantasy novels, but most of the books in the library hold a story of a whole other world — one that isn't governed by a blood-thirsty psychopath, but is just as bloody and gore-filled as one might imagine Snow to enjoy.

I must have lost touch with reality in there, because I spend hours upon end just flipping through the yellowed pages of the books that line the shelves. Occasionally, I manage to snap out of the fantasy world and go back to my room, but most of the times someone has to find me. It's often Mae or Finnick, but sometimes the guards find me before anyone else and force me back to my room.

My room is now filled with books that I want to read during the nights when I can't sleep, there are piles of them occupying the cushioned windowsill — and even parts of the floor — and I still find myself wandering back to the library to start another book.

I don't know what it is that draws me to those beautifully crafted fantasy worlds. Maybe it's the idea of a better life that hooks me on the words of the books, or maybe it's just the fact that I'm so unbelievably bored in my room when I have nothing else to do that draws me to the library. Either way, I can't seem to get enough.

One night, after I'm kicked out of the library by one of the guards, I walk into my room to see Finnick leaning up against a large wooden bookshelf — surrounded by the books that I've brought back. He must have been halfway through filling the bookshelf when he fell asleep. I smile, walking over to him and kneeling down beside him. I brush away a small tuft of his curly blonde hair from his face and lean closer, planting a soft kiss on his forehead. His eyes flutter open at the touch, looking up at me, he smiles tiredly.

"Fin, what is this?" I whisper to him, looking up at the bookshelf he is leaning on. His hand finds mine as he pushes himself up to a more comfortable position. Crossing his legs, he grazes his thumb across my knuckles and lets out a soft chuckle.

"You were bringing back so many books, so Mae and I agreed that it would be nice to ask Coin for a place to put them all," he explains tiredly, his words slowly dissolving into a large yawn. I can't help but smile.

"That's really sweet, but you're exhausted," I whisper, carefully pulling him to his feet. "Let's get some sleep and I'll help you put the rest of the books away tomorrow, okay?"

He nods his head, looking down at me through his half-lidded eyes. "I guess I could do with some sleep," he whispers, a weak smile taking over his lips.

"Good," I say, trying to hold back a laugh as I push him over to our bed. "Get in bed, I'm just going to take a shower."

"Alright."

Rolling my eyes, I take one last glance at the half-filled bookshelf before moving over to the closet. Pulling out some pyjamas to change into, I enter the bathroom and place the pyjamas onto the heater. I turn on the shower, strip my clothes from my body, and I'm about to step into the water when I catch a glimpse of my reflection in the mirror. I've been trying to ignore my reflection ever since I got out of the hospital. I knew it wouldn't have been pretty, the girl I would see staring back at me, but now that I've finally looked at her... it's not as bad as I thought.

My skin is an odd pinkish colour where they replaced the burned skin, there's also a couple of patches where you can see the scarring of my real skin, but it's not nearly as gruesome as I imagined. I have a whole side of my head shaved where the fire burned my hair off and the rest has been cut at odd lengths, my face has a large patch of brownish scarring on my right cheek and at first glance it looks bad — but I was imagining that half of my face was gone, so seeing how I really look gives me some sort of feeling of relief.

Anyway, I climb into the shower and quickly wash myself before putting my pyjamas on and joining Finnick in bed. As soon as I'm under the covers, his arms find me and he pulls me close to his chest. Within minutes, we're both fast asleep.