ODDS

ʟᴇꜱꜱᴏɴꜱ

3 months later

𝓜𝓸𝓻𝓰𝓪𝓷 𝔀𝓪𝓼 𝓭𝓮𝓪𝓭.

He was dead, and it was all my fault.

I realized at the time that I should have never told him about the Games. I should have kept it to myself, the fact that Snow held us so tightly in his grip. But he seemed so comforting. It's all I wanted, a little comfort for my mind. He'd practically begged me to confide in him. And me, being the gullible little girl that I was, fell for it.

It wasn't a week after when the 'accident' occurred. It took a few days to get the autopsy back, but it didn't matter anyway. I knew that he hadn't died of some freak heart attack. That's what they wanted them to think.

That's what Snow wanted them to think. Yet, he used it as a warning for my sake.

Shut your mouth, or this won't be the last time someone pays.

I had learned my lesson.

***

The funeral was held a few days later. It was a rainy day in April, making the air humid and miserable. My hair was a frizzy mess, but I didn't care. I didn't care about anything.

The beach was where I sought asylum. There I actually felt at peace, despite the whole world crumbling all around me. The wind from the ocean cooled my skin and dampened my hair. If I closed my eyes, I could almost imagine the Games never happened, that Morgan was in the kitchen cooking dinner, and not six feet under the ground.

But then I opened my eyes.

"I knew I'd find you here." a voice came from behind me. I looked up to see Finnick taking a seat beside me.

"Cal told you, didn't she?" I teased, eyebrow raised. He chuckled in defeat.

"You got me." he admitted.

We sat for awhile, taking in the scenery. The waves crashed against the shore, not quite reaching our feet. The seagulls flew overhead, squawking their annoying sounds. It only made me think of Morgan.

"As bad as this sounds, it does get better. It doesn't completely go away, but that's to be expected." Finnick said, drawing in the sand. I pulled my knees to my chest, resting my head on them. I knew that he understood what I was going through. He had experienced the same thing with his parents. He learned that there is no telling Snow 'no', just as I learned that secrets are meant to be kept. I nodded, not finding anything useful to say.

"And it helps talking about it."

"Talking about it is what got him killed in the first place." I turned my head quickly back to the ocean. I heard Finnick scoff.

"You think Snow is going to kill a victor? It's too risky." he persuaded. "You can tell me anything, Alana."

I waited awhile, weighing the pros and the cons. What Finnick said made sense. Still, I felt myself hesitating. I didn't want to kill anyone else. I let out a shaky breath and swallowed thickly.

"That nightmare that I had in the Games, do you remember?" I asked. I looked to Finnick, who nodded for me to continue. "It- It was Snow. It was actually Snow. He came to me in my mind, said that I would be the tribute to win, that I had been chosen. That we all were chosen."

I whispered this confession, relieved just as I had been when I told Morgan. I looked to Finnick, who looked off into the distance, deep in thought.

"I know. I sound crazy."

I saw Finnick's head flick over to me. "You're not crazy."

I gave a bitter laugh. "I thought all victors were crazy."

He chuckled under his breath. "Well, then you're not any crazier than the rest of us."

I glance at him, a bit of hope evident in my eyes. "You believe me?"

His eyebrows furrow as he looks at me in a ridiculous manner. "Of course I do."

My eyes tear up a bit at his admittance. I move to hug him, wrapping my small arms around his muscular frame. He returns my motion, wrapping his own arms around me.

"Thank you." I whispered. I felt Finnick smile into my hair.

Suddenly, Mary's voice carried from the line of victor's houses, calling us in for the dinner she had prepared. Finnick stood, offering me his hand. Our hands clasped together as he lifted me up. And we walked hand in hand, a bit closer to peace.