𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐭𝐡𝐫𝐨𝐮𝐠𝐡 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐧𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 | 𝐟𝐢𝐧𝐧𝐢𝐜𝐤 𝐨𝐝𝐚𝐢𝐫

Extra #1

AN: OKAY so I think I've finally decided to let this fanfic go, and as a part of its memorial service, HERE IS A FLASHBACK SCENE I WROTE A LONG LONG TIME AGO BUT NEVER PUBLISHED SO HERE :D maybe might post the rest of whats left.

"Finnick."

The cool ocean breeze danced against the hairs on his skin, making them rise with splendor. A small smile formed on his lips at the light and airy sounds of her voice, muttering mindless words under her breath as she shuffled with the knob of his front door. His gut filled with warmth knowing that he was safe under her watchful gaze.

"Don't open your eyes."

He chuckled. The franticness in her voice was amusing. He could imagine her furrowed brows and the small wrinkles forming just slightly above. The constant jangling of the keys in her hand only made things better.

"Do you know how to open the door?" he jokingly teased, hiding his hands under his arms.

She scoffed slightly. "Of course I do. It's just a bit–"

The knob made a satisfying click.

"There. Now careful on the step."

A small, cold hand took the wrist of his right hand. Without thinking, he mindlessly followed her pull into the dark abyss, trusting her guidance as he took small steps into his house, making sure not to give her the satisfaction of tripping.

The warmth of his old home was immediately felt. The fiery smell of wood and the tapping of his footsteps against the marble floor was nothing compared to anything he had seen or experienced in the Capitol. It was the little things, like the small wine stain on the armrest of his beige-colored couch from Aurora's pure clumsiness, and the slight tear in the curtains that covered the big windows from when he pulled too hard while trying to hide from the cameras that followed him home.

"What have you done with my house?" he directly asked, his eyes still shut. He tapped his toe on the floor, fiddling with his fingers as he waited for Aurora to shut the door behind him.

"Not much. I just stole all your furniture and sold them to all the fans that wait outside," she sarcastically remarked from across the room.

"Sleepover then?" He heard her scoff. "How long do I have to close my eyes?"

"Wait. This is a process. Give me one second. I'm sure you can do that at least."

There was more and more shuffling. In the time that passed, he made joking gestures in case she was watching. He couldn't see the small smile that formed on her lips, but he could hear the small huffs of air, a sorry excuse for a laugh.

"Okay. Sorry for making you wait for a minute, oh great Finnick Odair," she mockingly exaggerated. He could tell she was right in front of him now. "You can open them now."

Finnick obliged and opened his eyes to see complete brightness. Lights were strewn across the railings of the staircase, hanging across every corner of every wall. They were yellow and warm, like the lights he'd seen the mayor use to decorate the Justice Building in times of celebration. Except instead of the busy, crowd filled streets of cheering citizens, it was only just them, standing alone in the center of his front living room, gawking at the beauty of a few strings of lights. In some way, he felt more alive under the quiet glow than under the big and loud thundering fireworks at Snow's mansion.

The more he looked around, the more new things he found. There were flowers of all different colors, decorated in vases that were strategically scattered around. The giant pile of mail that was once tossed beside the door was now gone and replaced with a small table. The empty glasses and mugs that he'd left on the coffee table were gone as well, while the books that lined his bookshelf were now neatly organized in tidy rows.