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sayeedswritings · 4 years
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although the undeniable similarity to his parents will never cease to strike an unpleasant chord within him, gavriil cannot deny the fact that he is a man of excess. grandness ( of his gestures; words; emotions; everything ) coats every fiber of his being. usually his arrival to the scene is a noteworthy affair — but now, as he gently presses his knuckles against a plain door of an apartment somewhere in upper west side, his entire demeanor could not be calmer.
even his knocks are more controlled. “honey, i’m home.” he drawls before an amused chuckle escapes from his upward-slanted lips. gavriil steps back, waiting for the parisian to open the door for him. he knows abel is there — their darling paramour told him that as he paid her a visit just an hour earlier. the second of the russian’s two great loves should be behind that door, but his smile falters when, despite his waiting, he hears no sounds indicating anyone is in. 
gavriil sighs. “come on, lover.” he says, voice slightly louder, and repeats his action of knocking again. “you know i enjoy games every now and then, but i’ve just returned after being gone for a week and a half. i really don’t want to be deprived of your presence a second longer than is necessary.” he falls silent and, contrary to his unpleasant nature, gives abel another chance to respond. 
but just like before, only silence greets him. “fine then, lyubovnik. let’s do it your way then.” he rolls his eyes, though his lips once more curve upward. he is, after all, more amused by his darling’s bratty antics than he is annoyed. “before i go, do enlighten me. what have i done now to earn your ire?” his confusion is feigned, for he knows a precise answer to that question. bunny had, rightfully, been furious when he had told her; there is no reason to assume she would have kept that information all to herself in her anger.
sooner or later, he supposes, they would find out. 
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@adina-mle-rp​
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sayeedswritings · 5 years
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adina-mle-rp‌.
Abel commanded presence wherever he went. He had a reputation of being an arrogant, stubborn prince. And oh, how proud he was to tote it around like the damn crown he deserved. 
With a lighter secure in the palm of his hand, Abel walked into the bar, eyes barely glancing towards Gavriil - even though the slight race of his heart acknowledged his presence. Their love was secret, but Abel was impatient. Bunny he could see quite frequently as she was found on neutral territory. Gav, however, not so much. Regardless of his affinity with those brute Russians, Abel was going to see him when he wanted. Damn the consequences.
From a side glance, Abel was able to catch Gavriil stand from his seat, coming straight towards him with a purpose. Abel smirked. He loved him, yes, but it was certainly fun to get a rise out of Gav when he could. 
Abel held his breath when Gavriil entered his personal space, stopping a mere few inches away from his face. From this close, he could see the stubble that lined Gavriil’s jaw, the scars that littered his revealed skin, and especially the mild frustration etched into his eyes. 
Gavriil was a remarkable sight, and Abel relished every second he had to be so close to someone he loved - in public, too.
There was no time to reply back as he was soon whisked out of the bar and to the brisk outdoors. After a length of silent footsteps, Gavriil whipped around, bitter words spat at Abel that were only responded with a steely gaze. 
“Well, darling,” Abel started, chin tilting upwards indignantly, “I only fancied a drink.” He raised an eyebrow, a hint of smugness in his stance when he stepped closer to Gav.
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Nobody else would dare to be so bold, so arrogant. Bratva members certainly did not – they, especially the younger ones, might have yapped their mouths once or twice, but their efforts to annoy him were quickly squashed when Gavriil gave them a physical reminder of the ruin he was capable of dealing out. For those less familiar with him, his intimidating presence and the whispers of his monstrous reputation had the same effect. In general, nobody dared to mess with him – no one but this hubristic, self-proclaimed god of a man. Only he was conceited enough to think the god of war would not harm him.
( And most of the time, he was right. )
‘Darling’, the seemingly harmless nickname, aimed at him dragged the corners of his lips downward into a scowl. “Go ahead then, you idiot.” Gavriil hissed, gesturing in the bar’s direction as he mirrored Abel’s action by taking a similar step back. Normally he would have welcomed the lack of distance between them, for he was one of his two oases, but right now, in his anger, the last thing he desired was to feel Abel’s touch.
“Go ahead and have your drink there then.” He repeated, his voice quieter as he noticed two passersby give them prolonged looks. They did not need any sort of audience when they were in public – being in close proximity of each other alone was dangerous enough. The Russian opened his mouth, another irate response ready to escape, but closed it as another, better ( or was it worse? ) idea came to his mind. He really should not know it, for it would surely strike Abel where it hurt perhaps the most; but was that not how he had made the cape of infamy now resting on his shoulders? Through terrible decisions and horrible life choices.
“I’m afraid I won’t be able to join because I’ll be spending time with Lea and Jean-Pierre. I don’t think you know them, but I’m sure you remember their art.” And now, in stark contrast to what happened less than a couple minutes ago, one corner of his mouth curved upward – a brief flash of his perfectly white teeth. A predator’s smile. “Those two large hickeys on my neck last Monday? Those were darling Lea’s and Jean-Pierre’s handiwork.”
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sayeedswritings · 5 years
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@adina-mle-rp
Happiness was not a luxury men like him could afford, much less deserved. They were the harbingers of violence; a bloody trail of bodies followed them wherever they went. They robbed others of their happiness, a fact Gavriil was intimately familiar with, so it would’ve made sense they too were denied of experiencing the feeling they so often stole from others. Yet here in this bar, in the company of two fellow Sols, with drinks flowing and jovial chatter never ceasing, happiness was the most accurate description Gavriil could find for his feelings. The atmosphere of this place, of this moment, was such that it seemed to block the presence of anything negative. His mind was absent of the memory of Lev’s voice, of Illarion’s grief-stricken expression, of his paramours’ disappointed looks. 
For a moment, he was genuinely relaxed. 
For a moment, he was genuinely happy. 
But moments never lasted long, now did they? 
Until then, he hadn’t bothered paying any attention to who entered and exited this bar. Right now, something within him urged him to look, and who was he to disobey? Gavriil glanced over his shoulder; and true enough, his gut instinct had been right. A very good reason stood inside, sharp eyes scanning the place. Abel, with his designer clothes and that cloud of superiority permanently surrounding him, couldn’t have looked more out of place --- and Gavriil couldn’t figure out what he was doing here. All he knew that it was a dumb, dumb move. 
He downed whatever remained of his drink. “Gotta go.” Gavriil offered to his companions, neither which thankfully bothered to turn and observe where the middle Paramanov was heading. It wasn’t, after all, the first time Gavriil had abandoned them abruptly, most often in favor of pinning another body against any available surface. 
Determination was evident in every fiber of his being as Gavriil strode toward the Frenchman, his movements ceasing only when there were mere inches between them. “Fancy seeing you here, darling.” Well before giving the other a chance to formulate a response, he grabbed Abel’s wrist, fingers curling around it to form an iron grip. And then, with no physical effort from his side, he pushed the door open with his free hand and pulled them both outside. 
It was only after the door had closed behind them, and he had walked long enough that no one inside the bar could even accidentally see them, that he dared to let go. “There were three members of the bratva inside that bar,” Gavriil spoke harshly, voice washed clean of any softness he usually reserved for Bunny and Abel.  “So tell me, what the fuck do you think you were doing?”
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sayeedswritings · 6 years
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daydreamxdaze‌: 
BLAST FROM THE PAST // ODETTE & LIAM  — @sayeedswritings
Odette had ignored the first message, thinking it was just some internet troll trying to get a rise out of her. Her inbox was inundated with messages from fans and foes alike. For every positive comment she received, there was a negative one just behind it. Everyone wanted a piece of her, everyone had an opinion on her, and that was what she liked. She thrived on people talking about her. She wanted the world to know who she was and that was why she posted her life all over social media. How else could she reach people across the globe who would otherwise not know of Odette Harrington.
But as the second, and third and fourth messages came, Odette couldn’t help but feel uneasy. It wasn’t a night she enjoyed looking back on. Everything had changed that late summer evening. Her life had been turned upside down. Only three people knew the truth about what happened. One was halfway across the country, the other was dead. 
She hadn’t seen Liam in years, hadn’t spoken to him in even longer. Neither had been able to look the other in the eye after the accident. Their relationship had been strained, forced, until one day they broke apart completely. Odette had avoided him ever since. Instead of dwelling on the past and what lingered in it, Odette had tried to move on. And she had, for the most part. She had created a new life for herself, and now it was in danger of being tainted by whoever was filling her inbox was threats. They knew too many details. Details that no one should know. At least, no one outside of the two of them. 
That was how she found herself outside of his door. Completely and utterly fed up with what she assumed were his messages. Odette had talked her way through security, alluding that her appearance was to be a surprise. Which, in all honesty, it would be. Just one she doubted he’d appreciate. Before her anger could dissipate and give way to the nerves she felt about seeing Liam again, Odette knocked on the door. As her patience wore thin, her knocks turned into her palms slamming on the door. “Liam, your parents said you were home! I swear to God, answer your damn door!”
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“I swear to God, huh?” There is a teasing lilt to his words as he finally gets tired of observing the irritated woman slam her palms against the innocent door of his apartment. It has been amusing, to say the last, to watch as she seems to unleash her fury; he’s not in a hurry, so he could’ve continued until she exhausted herself, but this time Liam decides to be the one who ends this game. For what reason, he’s not certain --- perhaps it is the surprise of seeing none other than Odette Harrington anywhere what belongs to him.
“I didn’t know time had turned you into a believer. Is that what you do nowadays? Joined the forces of the Almighty Lord.” The corners of his lips tug upward, but no sound escapes --- it’s like they’re in a public place, attempting to communicate something scandalous with the constant threat of someone eavesdropping looming over their heads. His eyes take in every detail of the woman ( what has changed, what has remained the same ), and each new discovery confirms there is no way what he just said could ever be true. She might look like an angel, but poison is always best concealed underneath pretty things, yes? Besides, if there was anyone who personified the phrase “not all that glitters is gold”, it was him.
Liam uncrosses his arms and lets them fall back to his sides as he stands straight. Once again, he allows the silence to fall over them, indifferent to whether Odette enjoys it or not, when he makes his next move. Calmly, he saunters over to her and gently pushes her aside, so he can open the door. It’s done with a simple movement of his hand and then, after an audible click, Liam pushes it open and steps inside his humble abode. Another quick movement and he’s turned around, one arm gesturing toward the other rooms of the place. “Please, come in, Harrington. You can tell me over a glass of champagne to what I do this pleasure of seeing you abuse my apartment door.”
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sayeedswritings · 6 years
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She had no problems with admitting that she was somewhat emotional of a person, but never, even in her wildest dreams, had Annie thought she was capable of crying as much as she had this afternoon. She had burst into tears when her father had appeared to say his goodbyes after the reaping. She had sobbed as some of her friends had come to give her their farewells. She had wept when their escort, Volupta, had ushered her and her district partner, Noah, into the train because it was most likely the last time she would ever feel the breeze of salty ocean air caressing her skin. After that, she thought her body’s supply of tears had run out, for nothing had come out when Volupta had introduced them to their “magnificent” mentors. Mags, the woman in her mid-seventies who, if she recalled correctly, had played a part in each victor District Four had produced. She had been genuinely honored to meet Mags, but it had been the other mentor who, with his mere presence, had reawakened her body’s desire to shed more tears.
Out of instinct, she wiped away an invisible tear as the memory forced its way into the forefront of her mind. Finnick Odair. Of course it had to be him mentoring this year’s tributes. If she had known she would hear her own name, she would’ve been more careful with what she had wished for. But this was the hand the devil had dealt her and that devil, wherever he was, had to be having the time of his life watching her suffer. Especially when Finnick had insisted on breaking the age-old tradition of female victors mentoring female tributes ( & vice versa ) and asking that Mags let him mentor her. Her eyes had welled up with tears then, but she had held it together long enough to practically beg the older woman to ignore his requests. When her desperation didn’t receive the answer she wanted, combined with the looks of incredulity Noah and Volupta had shot her way for refusing the once-in-a-lifetime offer of being mentored by Finnick Odair, she had reached her breaking her point. She had quickly excused herself, offering Mags an apologetic look and blatantly ignoring others, before retreating to her compartment of the train where she could let the tears flow once more.
But now ( she wasn’t sure long how exactly ) it seemed that her tear ducts had met their limits and refused any further waterworks. Perhaps it was an act of kindness, for in that exact moment, she heard someone knock on her door. “It’s open.” Annie called out but made no effort to move from her seat near the window. Any glimpse of District Four was long gone, but there was something comforting about remaining at the window and taking in her last moments near the real nature. “I’ll be there soon. I’m just… I’m not very hungry and I---” A pause as she struggled to come up with an appropriate end for that sentence. “I just need a short moment. Please.” She still had no idea who it was, but she could only hope it was someone with a sense of empathy within them.
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@lidiacifuentes
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sayeedswritings · 6 years
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lidiacifuentes‌: 
Time stood still for Madge when Effie Trinket called out Prim’s name at the reaping. No. No. Please no. Her thoughts were playing in an endless loop for what it felt like minutes when it was actually just a few seconds. Prim was an innocent little girl, the careers in the Capitol would devour her in seconds. It wasn’t fair. Not to Katniss, not to her mother, not to anyone. And then her best friend volunteered for Prim and suddenly time was running again. Katniss ran towards the stage while Madge stood still, her face was expressionless and passive even though she was freaking out on the inside. Even trying to stop her could have consequences for not just her but for her parents, it was too risky. Her best friend was going into the arena and there was nothing she could do to help her. Except... The mockingjay pin. Her aunt Maysilee’s pin. It’s been in their family for generations and while it didn’t help Maysilee to get out, Haymitch had won those Games. The mockingjay had strong symbolism and maybe it’s strength would help Katniss find her own. Madge wanted to believe that Katniss could come back alive. Peeta was a lovely guy, but if she had to choose between them, she would hope that Katniss made it back. 
With Katniss gone, Madge sat alone at lunch, giving her plenty of time to think. She wanted to help, but she didn’t know how. She felt helpless. It was her mother, during one of her clearer moments, giving her the idea to bring some food to Prim and her mother. There was only one problem, she didn’t know where Katniss lived. Katniss had only ever been to her house when her and Gale sold them strawberries. Madge had never stepped foot in the Seam before and she had always been curious about it. So now she had a problem and there was only one solution she could think of, even if she didn’t want that. Find Gale and ask him to direct her to Katniss’ house. She knew Katniss provided for them and with her in the arena they must be hungry so while she couldn’t hunt like Katniss she could bring them food from her house, things that didn’t expire quickly. Going up to Gale was one of the hardest things she ever had to do. He hated her. She knew that. If she didn’t, the way he mocked her dress at the day of the reaping reminded her of it. She didn’t know why, maybe he hated her because he was angry that her family didn’t have to worry about food. While that was true, they had many other things to worry about that no one saw. Her mother. Entertaining capitol guests that visited them. One wrong word or move could mean the end for them and Madge was brought up with constant awareness of that. Fumbling nervously with her hands while she stood outside the school she waited for Gale to come out of the doors. All attempted courage flew out of the window when they stood face to face. “Um..hi…excuse me..Gale?” She winced at how pathetic she sounded. Madge had never come up to him and spoke to him, too scared that he’d laugh in her face. She had always admired him and while she knew it was hopeless she had had a crush on him for years. Clearing her throat she collected herself. “I was wondering if you could tell me how to get to Katniss’ house? I wanted to bring some food to Prim and Mrs Everdeen.”  Would he even help her? She didn’t know, but she had to take that shot. Otherwise she would have to go into the Seam by herself and try to ask around and do her best not to get lost. It was still light out now, she could do this. She didn’t need his help. Right..? 
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@sayeedswritings
As soon as the teacher implied the lesson, and the school day, was over, she had lost Gale’s attention entirely. Distantly he could hear that she was saying something, but his own mind was already elsewhere. He spared neither her or his classmates no glance as he swept his school supplies back to his bag, standing up from his seat in one fluid movement. He could feel some of their stares, could sense that someone most likely was thinking of a way to say a few words ( of consolation? Of encouragement? He didn’t know nor did he care ). Ultimately, however, no one opened their mouth --- something he would’ve been grateful for if his mind hadn’t been otherwise occupied. Besides, in spite of not knowing the nature of the words, he could guess the subject; and that subject was not something he wished to discuss with any of these people.
Gale grabbed his bag and flung it over his shoulder, his feet immediately beginning to carry him toward the exit of the classroom and the school with determined steps. The hallway was full of people, as always when the school ended, but the crowd seemed to part as he approached. That was another thing he was almost grateful for --- any sort of physical touch from anyone ( outside of his inner circle ) was as unwelcomed as words even hinting at his loss. The surge of anger awakened within him and dragged the corners of his lips, deepening the sour expression on his features. He hadn’t lost Katniss. Despite what the district, the other tributes, the Capitol, what almost everyone thought, she could do it. She was smart and a skilled hunter. If only she could change her mindset a little bit, then she could definitely emerge from that arena as a victor.
He was so deep in his thoughts ( uncharacteristic of him, but then again, school was not an environment where he truly excelled ) that when someone actually addressed him, Gale stopped in his tracks and spun around to face the person. Immediately after doing that and recognizing her, he wished he hadn’t done that. “What do you want?” He crossed his arms over his chest, eyebrows lifting in an expecting manner. Katniss would probably reprimand him for being so rude to the oh so poor mayor’s daughter, but Katniss wasn’t here.
“You want me to be your tour guide?” His voice was almost a laugh, but its bitter undercurrent revealed its true meaning to be anything but playful. His expression followed suit --- his lips formed a tight line, his eyes narrowed, and his arms fell back to his side, hands clenching into fists. “Listen up, Princess.” Gale continued as he leaned closer. “I have more important things to do than show you around the Seam. Besides, the Everdeens are not some charity case. You don’t get to just pick and choose when you want to help them.”
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The world isn’t fair
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sayeedswritings · 6 years
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lidiacifuentes‌: 
Truthfully, he didn’t know what he expected her reaction to be. He was entirely conflicted, because part of him held onto that small hope that she might still have a crush on him if she had had one in the past. While the other, much more logical part of him, was screaming at him to push her away. He didn’t know if he was doing enough, but he didn’t want to result to being rude or mean to her. She didn’t deserve that. He didn’t want to hurt her feelings. Her laugh made his heart stutter for a moment and it caught him by surprise. That certainly was new. One look at her confirmed it, the joy didn’t reach her eyes, it was a hollow laugh. “It’s not a pick up line.” He shook his head, his words truthful. They had been so close once upon a time and now despite their physical closeness, it felt like she was miles apart from him. Finnick didn’t know why he continued, he could’ve stopped talking there, but he wanted her to know that it wasn’t meant like this. “I had this plan of telling you before I went into the arena. And then I told myself I would tell you when I came back. If I came back, but then that obviously didn’t work out.” Why was he telling her this now, he didn’t know, but he felt like he owed it to her.  
His motivations in the arena were clear. Go back home by any means necessary. Failure was not an option and the Captiol quickly saw his drive and motivation and supported him. Which he  now wishes they wouldn’t. They fell at his feet so quickly and now he can’t shake them. Not that he was allowed to anyways, for the right price. “Noted. Do you have any more tips on charming a girl from the districts? I’m all ears.”  He joked, wanting to lighting the mood after his confession of truth. Finnick didn’t want her to think she owed him a reply to that or anything at all, he just felt like she needed to know. 
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As her seventeen years of life had passed, she had sailed through the years relatively free from the claws of pain. Aside from occasional bruises and cuts that were an intrinsic part of every child’s early years, she had somehow managed to escape major injuries, both mental and physical. She would, therefore, never claim to know what it felt like to be in real pain --- she had too much respect for those who had experienced such things to lessen the significance of their pain. However, when every word that escaped from Finnick’s mouth, her efforts to ignore her inner anguish seemed to relinquish some of its power. Stop, she wanted to say, but before it could leave her lips, the sound got stuck somewhere in her throat and promptly died. Instead, all she could do was shake her head and tear her gaze away from him. She could not face him, nor did she desire to hear anything else he was saying. But his assault was relentless; the words kept coming, each one delivered with a sharp, stabbing sensation.
“Finnick, please, just. Just stop.” It was humiliating, the way she sounded like she was begging him, but that would be a worry for later times. Right now, she was too upset. With her slender digits, Annie wiped away the few wayward tears that had run down her cheeks despite her attempts to calm herself down. “No, I don’t have any tips.” A moment passed before her answer; and even then, her voice was barely above a whisper. It would not serve her well --- it would most likely elicit further worry from him and possibly make the situation even worse.
Thankfully that was something she could escape from. If he respected her wishes, that was. “I think I’ll head home now.” She wrapped her arms tighter around herself --- to comfort or to shield herself from something, she didn’t know. “My dad is probably worried where I am and”---an intake of ocean air---“Tomorrow is a big day, so I need all the rest I can get.” Only then, with the opportunity to walk away from him within her reach, did she gather enough courage to meet his gaze once more. “It was nice seeing you, Finn.”
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sayeedswritings · 6 years
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lidiacifuentes‌: 
He didn’t know what caused that sudden change in her tone. Clearly he must’ve said something wrong, but he didn’t know what it was and it frustrated him. “I am. Very busy in fact. But I would much rather stay here.” The last part was said quietly and if it wasn’t just the two of them out here he was sure she wouldn’t have heard it. Finnick would give anything to stay in District 4 and never having to return to the Capitol again, but he didn’t have that choice. Even in years where he didn’t mentor his presence was still expected. The Capitol women couldn’t take it- the demand was too high. All they saw him as was a toy or a piece of meat. None of them actually cared about him and yet he was forced to spend his nights with them. But Annie didn’t know that and he intended on keeping it this way. He felt disgusting enough as it was, he couldn’t bare to see the way she would look at him if she knew all that he had done. 
Finnick’s eyes widened, unsure if he had imagined it or if he actually heard those words leaving Annie’s mouth. ‘I used to have a crush on you’ He couldn’t believe it. Even though so much had changed in his life those words made him feel like he was a fourteen year old boy again, trying to think of a way to confess his love to her. She visited him after his name got pulled out of the reaping bowl and he wanted to tell her then. Oh, how he wanted to tell her. But he didn’t. He opened his mouth to say something, but she had stopped him-making him promise to tell her when he got back-because she believed in him enough to know that he’d make it back. After his victory the capitol seemed to adore him instantly and they didn’t want to let him go. So time passed and when he was finally home he had to bury his mother, all thoughts of confessing his love to Annie buried in the back of his mind. And buried they stayed for years, he had almost forgotten how he had felt back then, but in reality it just simmered low at the bottom of his heart. It was just the two of them now, later on he’d beat himself up to be so foolish as to think that they weren’t any eyes on them now. Finnick stepped closer to her, a smirk playing on his lips as he looked down at her. “I’ll let you in on a secret too. I mean, fair is fair, right?  I used to have a crush on you too.” He winked at her then, using his flirtatious manner to overplay how much it took for him to admit that after all this time. There was no rhyme or reason as to why he actually told her, for one second he didn’t think and did what his old self was too shy to do.  Annie was even more gorgeous now than she was back then. He wasn’t surprised at that, but he hadn’t actually seen her up close in years so her beauty did throw him off for a moment. 
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The silence that followed her admission unnerved her. This wasn’t how the moment was supposed to go --- it wildly deviated from any of the scripts her mind had thought of. He could have interpreted her words in many ways: an honest truth, a lighthearted joke, whatever he wanted. That, in return, would have provided him with an equally large amount of response options that, once again, were wildly different when compared to others. Regardless of his choices, she had expected a quick reply; certainly not this silence that coated her insides with uneasiness. Her heart seemed to sense the tension filling the air, for it began to beat faster than it had in a long while. Carefully, with unnecessary caution, Annie turned slightly to take in whatever his reaction. She braced herself for something, yet she received nothing and this, this made her want to scream. Just say something. Anything. Stop staring at me and say something.
Soon enough, the universe granted her what she had hoped for: an answer. Except, as she now recalled the old saying, she should’ve been more careful with what she wished for. His lips went from a line to an alluring upward curve --- after spending years of watching that famous Finnick Odair smirk on television, the image of it had etched itself onto her memory deeply enough for to recognize it immediately. It was a smile that had many women swooning and fainting, but in that moment, it was the saddest sight she had ever seen. His subsequent words and that wink ( which she suspected drove women all around the Capitol mad ) didn’t do him any favors either --- they only had her body going still and dragged the corners of her mouth downward into a frown. Was he really gone then? Had the boy she had once loved really died in that arena, replaced by this artificial Capitol creature?
It was a painful thought to have, so she mirrored his earlier action and stepped back. Perhaps a small distance would lessen the hurt. “How coincidental.” She laughed. It was a joyous sound, but anyone could’ve noticed that her joy did not reach her eyes. “I never thought I’d be saying this to you, out of all people, but let me tell you something, Odair.”  Her words marked the return of her smile --- a genuine smile laced with a touch of sadness. “If you want a girl to believe you, use pick-up lines that are more original and use them more sparingly. That way they won’t lose their effectiveness.” Then she furrowed her brows in consideration. “If you want to charm someone in the districts, that is. Your current strategy seems to work just fine with the Capitol’s women.”
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sayeedswritings · 6 years
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lidiacifuentes‌: 
Finnick nodded, but didn’t say anything more about it. If she came here for the same reasons he did, she surely didn’t want him to talk and ruin the quiet night she planned on having. If she wanted to clear her head and be alone he would leave, he wouldn’t blame her if she didn’t want to be here with him. “Just say the word if you want me to leave. I get it.” Finnick didn’t know why she came to clear her head from and despite his curiosity he didn’t think he had any right to ask more. If she wanted to tell him she would’ve. 
When Annie spoke to him again he was surprised once more. Why was he here, she asked. He could see the emotions in her eyes, shining clear as day for him to read as if she were an open book. She was annoyed with him or by his presence here, or both. He assumed the latter to be the case. A soft shrug was his first reply to her question. He decided to be honest without saying too much, not wanting to burden her with his problems.  Finnick could tell her that he hadn’t been to this part of the district on purpose, but the less she knew the better. “I thought no one would be here. I needed to get away from everything.” 
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At his words, his incredibly naïve suggestion, a chuckle escaped from Annie’s lips. It was unlikely he had meant it that way, but she could see it --- The Capitol’s outrage upon learning that someone as lowly as she had ordered around one of the most beloved people in Panem’s history. But then, before she could voice her thoughts or respond in any way, he continued talking; and whatever amusement she had gained from the mental image died in an equally swift manner.
Her lips formed a tight line as her body fought to stay still instead of flinching away. I thought no one would be here. Seven words that, once again, sounded innocent enough, but each of them left her feeling as if she had been slapped. It made absolutely no sense, why it hurt her so much, but here she was with a heart that bled because of his admission. They, she, had known for years that Finnick Odair had no interest in returning to his old life which included his old friends. Therefore, she should’ve been prepared for this moment, but as it turned out, she wasn’t. Some part of heart had clung on to a hope that he would come back; now she was paying the price.
“Right.” She acknowledged, attempting to swallow the invisible lump that had formed in her throat. “You must be very busy, preparing yourself to go back there.” There was no need to mention the obvious reason why he’d be going back to the Capitol --- and even if he wasn’t mentoring this year, the adoring public seemed to want him there regardless.
Suddenly, even though she hadn’t done anything particularly physical today, Annie felt the weariest she had felt in a long while. Her eyes fluttered closed as her arms wrapped themselves around her slender frame, even though she did not feel cold.  She repeated a simple motion of inhaling and exhaling before, for whatever reason, her lips curve upward into a smile. “Want to hear a secret?” She asked and laughed; it was a tired sound, but a laugh nonetheless. “I think people in the Capitol would consider me a trendsetter because---” You can say it. He’ll return to his fancy life soon and he won’t look back. You can say it. “---I used to have a crush on you. Like, before it was cool to have a serious case of hearteyes at Finnick Odair.”
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sayeedswritings · 6 years
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lidiacifuentes‌: 
It’s been years since Finnick was at this beach. He knew there was no good reason for him to be here, it wasn’t like he didn’t have a perfectly fine beach right in front of his house in the Victors village. But this time felt different. He felt suffocated in the Victor’s village, knowing every camera there inside and out, he just needed to be on his own, away from all prying eyes. That’s how this beach came into his head. Rarely anyone ever came here and the air was just engulfed in silence. And that was exactly what he needed right now. Snow was driving him mad and he just needed a moment by himself to think, to breathe. Especially since the reaping was soon and that meant he had to go back to the Capitol. 
Not even an hour passed when he noticed another figure making their way onto the beach. Finnick sighed, looks like his moment of solitude was short lasting. It didn’t take long for him to figure out who it was despite the fact that they hadn’t talked in years. Annie Cresta. Suddenly he remembered how his subconcious had brought him onto this beach. He used to come here with Annie when they were kids. She was even more gorgeous than he remembered. Finnick was surprised at her tone, unsure what he had been expecting but it wasn’t this. “I needed some time to think. You?” After what happened to his mother when he refused Snow for the first time, he made it a mission to separate himself from his old friends- to keep them safe. Annie must hate him now, but she was here, standing in front of him alive. That’s what mattered to him. 
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On the surface, his counter-question seemed easy enough. A simple ‘you?’ that provided her with an opportunity to reply however she wanted. She could’ve spun an elaborate story out of her mundane day, highlighting the key points with grand movements of her arms and hands. She also could’ve ignored him altogether which, she supposed, would’ve been a human ( childish, but human ) reaction to how he had treated them since he had emerged victorious from that arena. Despite knowing what she could and should say, Annie found herself at the loss of words. Neither option appeared particularly attractive right now, so she did what every child of the fishing district had been taught to do since a young age: turn their gaze toward the sea and pray it would bless you with some of its wisdom.
Sure enough, after a few additional moments of silence passing as she observed the now calm ocean, she did think of a response. “I’m here for my evening walk. It’s a good way to clear my head.” That was a good one, right? It hopefully sated his curiosity, if his question had been a genuine one, without giving him an access to her vault of thoughts. Her own interest, on the other hand, showed no signs of extinguishing any time soon. One question specifically pushed its way to the forefront of her mind no matter how hard she attempted to bury it away. It was frustrating, to say the least.
A sigh escaped from Annie’s lips before she, for the first time in a very long time, turned to truly come face to face with Finnick. “Why are you here?” It wasn’t her style to be so openly exasperated with someone, but at the end of the day, she was only human. “You’ve been nowhere near this part of Four in years. Why did you--- What makes---” A pause; another irritated sigh. “Why now?”
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sayeedswritings · 6 years
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She wasn’t quite there yet, but as her feet steadily lead her toward her little corner of the beach, Annie could already feel the sense of calmness settle over her. It wasn’t, of course, officially her corner --- it was a public beach, though significantly less popular than some of the others, and owned by District Four. However, she had frequented it so often over the years that she had begun to call it hers. It was her go-to spot whenever she needed time for herself; it was there where she could express her worries and anxieties without burdening other human beings with them. Tonight was definitely one of those nights when she was particularly glad for this spot’s existence and the solitude it provided her.
Except, much to her dismay, it seemed she would be deprived of that luxury. As soon as she reached the beach, she spotted a figure standing not too far from where the sea hugged the sand. It was unusual enough of a sight that she couldn’t help but zero in on the man. Based on her experience, the ordinary residents of Four rarely visited this beach; and the likes of him? Never. There was a better beach right next to the Victors’ village, so it made no sense that Finnick Odair, out of all people, was here tonight.
Her steps had a cautious quality to them as she moved forward, stopping well before she could get close to him. “What are you doing here?” Annie asked, her voice loud and clear in the quietness of the night. The mere sight of him awakened certain, long-buried emotions within her, but it was not the time for those yet. First, she needed some answers.
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