ODDS

ꜰᴀɪʀʏ ᴛᴀʟᴇꜱ

"𝓘'𝓶 𝓼𝓸𝓻𝓻𝔂?" Finnick's voice came from behind the door.

Mags, who had been by my side for the last hour, flashed me a worried smile.

"She what?"

I was about to get it.

"Mags, you'll want to leave. I can handle him on my own."

The older lady shook her head slightly, brows furrowed.

"Mags, please." I urged. I knew she didn't like yelling. She was only wanting to stay to make sure Finnick didn't take out too much frustration on me. Deep down, though, she knew I could handle him on my own.

She kissed my hand and patted it, flashing me a careful smile. I returned it with a small grin.

She slowly made her way to the door, opening it and making her way into the hallway. That's when I saw him.

His eyes were wild with anger and worry, a truly terrifying mix. With hair a mess, he slid past Mags and slammed the door with a fervor that bounced off of him in waves of heat.

"What the hell, Alana? You're using knives to cut yourself in front of Game Makers? What's the matter with you?"

"They were kukris, actually." I interjected calmly. Only calm words could call him down now.

"Oh, like that matters. You realize that you could've killed yourself?"

I gave a chuckle, playing with the edge of the sheets. "That was kind of the point, Fin."

He stood frozen for a second, staring at me in disbelief, as if staring would somehow help him to understand. I hated when he did that. I felt like I was being put under a microscope.

"The point? You've got to be kidding me. Alana, President Snow-"

"-can't do anything now. It was a private assessment. Only the Game Makers saw." I tried to calm him down, but my words didn't achieve the wanted effect.

"They can take it out on Caspian and Tora. Possibly even on Calypso. Do you not know how reckless that was?"

Our eyes met, and I noticed the pleading look in his eyes. He wanted answers. He wanted to understand. And at the same time, he wanted me to understand. The problem was that we weren't reading from the same book at all.

"I showed him who is in charge, Fin."

Confusion still plagued his features. "What?"

"President Snow. He doesn't own me, or any of us. He might be able to trick Panem into being afraid, but I'm not, and he can't. I'm not his to control anymore." I explained. "And I had to prove it."

Silence followed. I watched the horror and disbelief paint his eyes.

"Prove it? Alana, you sound like a- like a- I don't even know. Do you hear yourself?"

"Isn't this what you want? A revolution? How do you think revolutions get their start?"

"Alana." He whispered, covering mouth, then his eyes, and finally landing his hands on top of his head. "Alana."

The shock was evident in his voice.

"He's going to kill you. You realize that?"

"He's been killing me for the last ten years, Finnick. One knife incident away from the public eye isn't going to make much of a difference."

"I can't do this right now. I can't talk to you when you're being irrational."

He started towards the door.