winning-wont-help

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No matter how long Gale lived in District 2, no matter how nice the home he was given was, no matter how perfect his job was for him, District 2 would never be his home. It took him months to even wake up without quick breaths as he wondered where he was, and it would take him two more to sleep a full night through. 

People admired Gale. He was strong, handsome, hardworking, and smart. They tried to talk to him for the first month, but he couldn't bring himself to say more than a polite hello and an excuse of being 'too busy' or having 'an important meeting.' He only left his house, which he refused to call home, when he really needed to. It was more than missing Katniss; it was missing that old life, which was something he never thought he would do.

Gale hated his life before, hated his family starving and fearing the reaping every year. He dreamt of a new life after a revolt against the capital, but this isn't what he had pictured. Those days in the woods he pictured happiness, laughter, freedom, and only after the war did he realize that Laughter would always be short when you had seen the sort of things he had. Gale was strong, but you would have to be more than human to see souls slip from bodies and keep all of yours. 

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"How am I different, Finn?"

"W-What?"

Annie was looking out into the sea on an uncharacteristically slow day for the two victors, and she was looking out with dead eyes as she broke the silence of the past few minutes. Finnick turned to look at her, staring at her as if he could see into her head and watch as the thought tumbled down to her mouth.

"How am I different? Don't say I'm not either. There's a reason why people laugh when I'm in the Capitol, there's a reason why I don't have many friends, there's a reason why when I mentor they hardly make me do anything, so what is it? How am I different?"

Finnick was silent for a few moment, reading her face as she was too busy staring at the nothingness that is the horizon to look back at him. He read the worried lines that formed around her eyebrows, and wondered how long she had noticed. When he finally spoke his voice was quiet and had a regretful sound to it.

"The Games, they changed us all-"

"How, Finn."

"I..." He sighed. "The doctors call it PTSD, or Post-traumatic stress disorder. It happened after your games, most victors have it actually, they just say yours is just treating you differently."

"So, am I really crazy?" she asked.

Finnick's heart broke a little when she said those words. He saw the pain in her eyes when she said it despite her dry cheeks.

"You weren't supposed to hear anyone say that," he whispered.

She was quiet for a moment, and he watched her intently to see what she would say.

"Hold me, Finn," she said finally. He pulled her close, her head resting on his chest so she could hear the two things she loved; the sound of his heartbeat and the sound of the waves.

He never knew if she remembered their conversation and just didn't want to talk about it, or if her mind went elsewhere.

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People always say that my dad was the best. He was handsome, strong, caring, and that 'once you truly knew him he had a heart of gold.' I always hear the good things about him, and I think that might have been all there was; good things. 

Mom says he had a hard life though. She doesn't say much more than that before crying. She's done that for as long as I can remember. The only time she brought him up and didn't cry is one time she brought me a photo. It was a picture of my mom and who she didn't say but I know is my dad. My mom is wearing a green silk dress, and I tell her she's beautiful. She just points to the man she's clinging to and doesn't say a word. My dad and I have the same eyes, and really similar faces. He's more muscular than I am, and I'm smarter than to ask my mother why he needed to be so strong. 

I look at that picture a lot. It makes me feel close to my dad, and it reminds me of the one time that my mother didn't have the bitterness in her eyes that always invaded the sweet that would be there when she talked about my dad. It makes me sad that he's not with me, but then I remember it's okay. 

Mom taught me how to shave.

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Annie stood with expectant eyes and a slight frown. She looked very confused, and just the sight of her made Katniss's head light and her heart practically stop. 

"Where's Finnick?" she asked. If Annie was still herself, if she was the same girl she was before she entered the games, she wouldn't have to ask that question. She would have known that if Finnick didn't find her right away, he would never find her. Her hand went to her stomach as her voice got more desperate. "Where is Finnick?" Katniss bit her lip and shook her head. "Where is Finnick?!" She was shouting now, tears streaming down her face as she knew the answer but kept screaming the question so she wouldn't have to hear it. 

He's with Mags. Katniss thought, but her voice was still refusing to give the answer Annie had now caught up to. She still screamed the question. He's with Wiress. He's with Cinna. He's with Rue. He's with Prim. She noticed the hand on Annie's stomach, and the colour drained from her face.

He's not with his child.

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A Capitol broadcast was a mixture of panic, hope, and worry for Katniss and Finnick. They both knew Annie and Peeta were there, and they both wanted desperately to have proof of life and health, but to see proof of them in the place that wanted them dead was a high price to pay.

Perhaps part of him still thought that maybe they would leave her alone. They were done making her play their games. That was the only theory that made sense to the people in the room with Finnick Odair when he was her dressed in white with a confused and forced smile. Every eye turned to Finnick. He was unnaturally still, jaw set, eyes fixated on her. Katniss watched as his chest began to rise at an unnaturally heavy and fast pace. She knew what was coming.

"Finnick..." her word was a warning, but they did nothing to stop the bloodchilling yell that escape his throat. Pain. Even those who didn't understand it knew it was there. Pure agony, because he knew they had her. He knew she was alive, yes, but he also knew they had the power to hurt her, to change her, to laugh at her, to be with her. It was beyond unfair; it was cruel. He shoved away district 13 attendants and ran from the room, Katniss in hot pursuit.

She understood enough to let him sob in his room with her silence the only thing that accompanied her presence in the doorway of his assigned room.

"They're using her to get to me," he said softly to her. She stayed silent. A tear rolled down his cheek, and he wiped it away quickly. He pulled the not off his pillow and began to tie it over and over again. His fingers were sure to be raw by dinner. His voice attempted to work, but it faulted like an old car motor and he chuckled out of place like the one he loved would. He started his voice again, this time it worked despite the sobs and laughter interrupting it. "She's a part of their game again."

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"No... She crept up on me."

For Finnick there was a moment he knew he loved Annie. It was a strange moment, possibly one of the strangest of his life, but it held the most significance of anything that had ever happened to him. It meant more than winning the games, losing loved ones, anything. 

They weren't alone. They were both mentors for the pair of tributes that year, the classic careers who had this as their shining moment. They were in the suite for district four, discussing the games that were going to start the next day.

"What do you advise for the initial bloodbath?" the girl said. It was a bit sick how comfortable she was discussing this. 

"Well," Finnick began. He was really the only one who ever talked in these meetings. Annie was still relatively new to being a mentor, and she just sat there staring into nothing. He didn't know at the time why he didn't mind. "You both are careers, I would say try to get the weapons or food or whatever it is they have in the cornucopia. A lot of people will die, you both have to be careful. It's the most dangerous part, I would argue. No one cares about anything but protecting themselves. Get in and get out, try not to die. Once you-"

Finnick had more to say, advice on what to do, but he was cut off by the first noise the pair of tributes heard out of Annie Cresta. Absolutely insane laughter. She began to laugh so hard and so loud that she fell onto Finnick. The tributes looked shocked, scared even, but Finnick was smiling. He had to bite his cheeks not to laugh with her, but there was nothing funny. Her laugh wasn't even contagious. In fact, any sane person would be very very worried for her. Finnick wasn't though, and that's how he knew part of him, a larger part than he knew at the time, was crazy for this girl. 

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She was still asleep. The white sheets customary in district 13 showed nothing below her shoulders, and she looked more at peace than he had ever seen her. His eyes studied everything about her. She way her hair fell when there was no one but him to see it, the way her fingers twitched ever so softly as she slept, the way the edge of her lips hinted at a smile as she had a rare good dream. Victors rarely got those, so he was especially careful to not wake her as his let a finger run across the edge of their shared sheet so it could make constellations with the freckles on her back given by their district's sun. 

Finnick knew that on any other day they should have woken by now and gotten a schedule for the day, but the Capitol residents insisted they get a week off for a honeymoon. They settled on three days. He was happy.

Annie stirred in her sleep, and he took that as an opportunity to pull her close to him. Her back was against his chest, and he watched as her eyelids fluttered. She was awake, he could tell by her full smile, but she wasn't quite ready to leave the unmatched bliss of sleep. 

"I love you," her half asleep voice mumbled through stretched lips. He pulled her closer and kissed the top of her head. 

"I love you more, Mrs. Odair."

Her smile became even more full, something he didn't know was possible. She laughed, and it was refreshingly well placed. Not perfectly placed, but better than most times. 

"Annie Odair," she whispered before she drifted back to sleep to dream of him. 

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It used to be that anytime Katniss said Peeta's name, he would remember the recap of the first Hunger Games. Of course a lot of that was a painful memory, but he would remember the moment the first rule change was announced. She said his name, and immediately looked like she regret it. When he saw that, he could imagine that she did love him, deep down somewhere. Maybe she didn't know it, but in her subconscious maybe she would love him. In a wonderful way, his own name on her lips was his hope for a future of them together. 

In all of its cruelty, the Capitol could not allow that.

His name was the first memory they attacked successfully. All others would leave his groggy and upset, but they couldn't find that hook to really destroy his memories of her. Once they did find it, they were able to break him easily. It was the in they needed to destroy the Peeta Katniss knew. They distorted his name on her lips; made it vile, hopeless, dead. That one hope he had left, his own name, was stripped from him. Suddenly Peeta Mellark was the easiest shell to crack with that one memory.

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It may seem old fashioned, but the people living in Panem never did use the phone. Instead, letters kept the people who had traveled to other districts to start a new life after the war in touch with family and friends. In district 12 there were two boys who had the job of collecting the mail from the train and delivering them to each household. 

A timid knock sounded on the Melark residents door, making both Katniss and Peeta look up from their respective time spenders, in this case cooking and skinning a new kill. Peeta dusted his flower-coated hands on his apron and opened the door, taking an unusually large envelope. It wasn't just a letter today. 

A picture of a boy with his fathers sea-green eyes and hair that was barely there. He was quite young, but old enough to look more human than if he was born yesterday. Peeta stared at the picture, and he didn't have to say anything to spark Katniss's curiosity because a moment later she was by his side. A small gasp escaped her throat, and, she hated herself for it, a few moments later her face hid in Peeta's chest as she sobbed ever so softly.

Peeta had a different reaction; longing. He wanted children. He wanted to be able to raise someone in this world that they fought so hard to bring. He wanted to help raise the next generation. But he knew how Katniss felt. So instead of bringing up how he wanted children, he comforted her until her sobs subsided, then suggested they add it to the scrapbook. 

They would both return to that picture in their heads for different reasons. Katniss would return to remember the past, and Peeta would return to imagine the future. 

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Wiress groaned loudly and dropped her map on her face. "This will never work, Beetee," her muffled voice said. Beetee smiled. 

"Of course it will. All we have to do is 'get lost', then we can explore as we 'find our way back' to the train," he said, his nose still in his map. Wiress threw her arm over her map so she could give him a dramatic look. 

"Bee, it's my victory tour. You really think they'll let me out of their site? I'm surprised these maps haven't been accidentally burned yet!" she said.

"That is why we need to memorize the map. After all, we just want to see the sea," he said.

Wiress squealed in excitement. "Can you imagine what it looks like, Beetee? In real life? Water, all across the horizon," she said, throwing her hands up above her head as if she was painting it with invisible colors. She smiled. "Screw it. I don't care if we get in trouble. I want to see it."

"That's my girl," Beetee said with a smile. 

~~

Wiress laughed aimlessly as Beetee pulled her along. 

"Hurry!" he said, though it didn't seem very serious since he was laughing almost as hard as she was.

They ran for about a mile, before the cobbled streets turned to sand. Wiress stopped running and began to walk slowly through the white sand, letting it tickle her toes and stick to her ankles. She smiled when she saw the water, and Beetee watched her as he made her dream come true.

"It's beautiful. B-better than I imagined," she said softly. Beetee grabbed her hand and leaned in to whisper in her ear.

"Let's go to the water," he murmured. She smiled and ran with him to the ocean, a smile in her face and joy and love mixed together perfectly in her heart.

Beetee scooped her up bridal style when they got to the water, not wanting to ruin her lovely dress. She laughed as he ran through the water, and she screamed when he tripped and she fell in the water. 

"I'm so sorry!" Beetee sputtered as he grabbed her hand, but she was just laughing. 

"Don't be!" she said as he pulled her up. He pulled her a bit hard, and she ended up pressed against him with her hands resting on his chest. She smiled and closed the space. She kissed him passionately, and he kissed back the same.

In that moment, with their lips together and the waves crashing into their legs, no one would have guessed they were both famous for being murderers. 

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Gale sat in the side of a hill, which there seemed to be a lot of in district 2, and worked on a new snare. He could hardly get anything done, due to his heightened paranoia since after the war. At every little sound his head would fly up and his bow would be at the ready. Then, after a few moments of silence, he would put the bow down and go back to his snare. It would look strange to anyone watching, and it did look strange to a girl with short brown hair, wide set brown eyes, and an axe tied to her back.

"You know, for a hunter you're really jumpy in the woods,"  the girl said to make her presence known after she had watched him work for a good half an hour. Gale stood up quickly at the sound and pulled out his bow. She smirked at him, not failing to notice the arrow at the ready. "Oh, come on. Don't you trust me?"

"Thought you would be in seven," he said as he lowered his bow. He sat down and went back to his snare. She walked around in front of him, kicking leaves and looking at nothing in particular. 

"Oh, well, there aren't the most happy memories back in that place. So I took advantage of this new freedom. You of all people should understand that," she said with a touch of mockery in her voice.

"It's different," he said, his hand slipping momentarily as he carved the complex snare.

"Is it though?" she said, making him look up at her. "We both left to escape something. Me, a memory of someone lost. You, a lost someone. In the end we're both trying to forget what we can't have. Yet here you are, in the woods building snares and thinking of her."

"I'm not," he said on a growl as he went back to his snare.

"Why else would you be in the woods and not in the beautiful lab Beetee designed for you?" she asked. He stayed silent. "That's what I thought. The best way to get over it is to find someone else."

He looked back up at her slowly, a mixture of hope and despair on his prematurely worn face. 

"Did that work for you?" he asked softly. The corner of her lips lifted. 

"Not just anyone can fill that position, Gale," she said in a way that made her sound much older than she was. She shrugged. "I haven't found a way to try it yet."

"So you just live with the pain?" he asked. She smiled and nodded.

"Yeah," she said. "Now, we better be careful, oh Master Hunter. Things are getting a bit too 'mushy' for hard asses like us."

He chuckled. "Why did you come out here then? You didn't want a heart-to-heart talk?"

"God no! Beetee is looking for you," she said. 

"And you just happened to know where to find me?" he asked with a raised eyebrow. She shrugged.

"Lucky guess," she said with a wink, making him smirk. She turned around and walked away, but not before throwing him and over the shoulder wave. Gale packed up his tools and walked back towards town, this time with a girl other than Katniss on his mind

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Finnick was donning his plaid pajama pants and nothing else as he walked on the beach. He was awoken by yet another nightmare and didn't dare risk going back to sleep. He didn't need to visit the arena again. 

He watched his feet as they kicked the sand of district 4 every which way. He watched as it fell down in clouds of dust, trying desperately to get the images of dying teenagers out of his minds eye.

"Finnick Odair?" he heard a soft voice say.

He turned to one of the many docks that lined his district to see a silhouette of a beautiful girl. Her hair was up in a messy bun and she was wearing a loose T-shirt and shorts, from what he could tell from her shadow against the steadily rising sun. He turned and walked towards her. He walked until he was close enough to see every tear on her cheeks and to she the ever fading spark in her green eyes. He held out his hand and smiled.

"Pleased to meet you, Annie Cresta," he said, trying his hardest to smile.

"It's okay," she said in a voice that seemed like it was in a dreamland miles away, "You don't have to smile. There are no camera's here. Do you want to sit down?"

He grinned despite himself and sat down next to her. He liked this girl, even though everyone said she was crazy. Maybe they just thought that because of the way she talked like she was on cloud 9 even though she'd been through hell. Suddenly she laughed at the silence. Okay, maybe that too.

"Nightmare?" she asked him.

"How did you know?"

"The beach is one of the best places to go after one. The way the noise of the waves hitting the sand clouds your mind and the rustling sand captures your attention. It's the perfect distraction, so I just assumed."

"You assumed correctly," he said with a smile. He chuckled to himself. He had never smiled this much while off camera since before his first games.

"You know, no one has ever talked with me this long," she said in that same dreamy voice. She laughed. "I kind of like talking with people."

"I like talking with you too," he said genuinely.

This girl seemed, dare he say it, almost perfect. The first girl since his Games that didn't call him handsome, or strong, or anything like that. The first girl that just talked to him like a person. He smiled to himself. Screw everyone who thought this girl was crazy. He liked her.

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Gale's point of view

I slip under the fence, eager to hunt. My stomach is growling, but it’s nothing compared to what I’ve heard from my brothers. They are really starving, but I know how to live on less. I decide to begin with the snares, that way I might have a nice rabbit to give Katniss.

Katniss. I can’t think of her without a small smile escaping my lips. I never thought I would start to have feelings for that scared girl in the woods, but I now know I have. She was flirting with some peacekeeper, that’s when I realised how much I really cared. It hurt to see her with someone else, even if it was harmless flirting.

But she can’t know any of this.

If she knew how I felt, wouldn’t everything change? What if she didn’t feel the same way? What if she did? What if it didn’t work out? This may never be the same, and I can’t risk that. Not now. She has enough to deal with with the reaping next week since it’s Prim’s first time. Maybe after we are both old enough to be done with games I could tell her-

"Gale!"

I smile up at the girl in the tree.

"Hunting birds?" I shout.

"It’s better than that horrid bread they give us for risking our lives a bit more," she says, hopping down the tree. “Besides, I have eggs."

I smirk. “I have a two rabbits and a squirrel. Want to go check for fish?"

"Yeah, but keep your voice down. I’ll see if I can shoot anything on the way," she says.

"One more?" I ask with a grin. She rolls her eyes but nods.

"On three?"

"One-"

"Two-"

"DEATH TO THE CAPITOL!"

We look at each other and burst out laughing. I swear, this is the only place she ever smiles let alone laughs.

I guess that’s just one more reason to come to the woods.

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"I love doing this," she said as they walked in the train tracks. “I always imagine that I’m finally making my way to the Capitol."

"You won’t have to wait to long for that to come true, will you?" Cato said. “You’re still volunteering this year, right?"

"Yeah. In two months," she said softly. “Cato, I’m kind of-" Clove was cut off by a shout.

"Hey! What are you doing there?!" a peacekeeper yelled.

Cato and Clove turned around to see two peacekeepers walking towards them, their guns slung on their back. Cato smirked, and Clove nodded. They both lept off the train tracks and ran for their lives, quite literally. The peacekeepers quickly whipped out their guns, shooting at the careers. Cato and Clove easily dodged the bullets and ducked into a building.

Cato took Clove’s hand and led her down some steps into the dark, small basement. Their breathing was heavy as the heard the peacekeepers run past their building. Clove let out a breath she didn’t know she was holding and slumped against a wall.

"That was close," she panted.

"One of the closest," Cato said. He smirked at Clove. “Now what were you saying before they so rudely interrupted us?"

"Nothing," she said too quickly to fool anyone, much less Cato, her best friend, who knew her so well. He raised his eyebrows at her. “Alrighty fine. I was going to say… I, um…. I’m… I’m scared."

"Why?"

"I-I don’t know if I’m ready for the Games."

Cato chuckled and moved closer to her.

"You are the most skilled person training out there. Now, don’t tell anyone I said this but," Cato’s voice fell to a whisper and he took a step closer, “you’re even better than me."

"Really?" she whisper with a smirk.

"Really," he whispered ever so quietly once he took yet another step closer.

Clove was looking into his bright blue eyes as he  moved closer, and at the last second she closed them as the space between them was lost.

Cato’s lips crushed into hers as his hands held her hips. She wrapped her arms around his neck and pulled him closer. She pulled on his upper lip, making a soft moan escape his mouth. She smiled against his lips. He ran his tongue along her lower lip, asking permission to deepen the kiss. She granted him entrance and soon they were exploring each other’s mouths, savoring the taste.

In that moment they forgot everything but each other. They forgot the peacekeepers trying to shot them. They forgot the Games were they would have to fight to the death to bring pride to their district. They forgot everything but their first kiss together, and it could not have been more perfect.

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Haymitch was slumped in his usual fashion in a room full of sponsors. Some were watching the screen intently, while others gossiped on.

"Why is Katniss crying?" a woman with electric blue hair asked as she sat beside Effie, who was sitting beside Haymitch.

"She's crying over her ally, Rue I believe her name was, from district eleven. She just died," Effie said, not taking her eyes off the screen. 

"I heard that district eleven is very 'put out' by her death," said a woman with green hair who had just walked up behind their couch. "They even fought peacekeepers. Of course, these are just rumors."

"Oh, nothing will come of that," the blue hair woman said, waving the woman off with her heavily manicured hand. The woman walked off, but not before shooting a glare in their direction.

"Oh, look!" Effie said excitedly, hitting Haymitch on the arm to get his attention. "It's Peeta!"

Effie was pointing at the screen, and sure enough, there was Peeta. He was covered in mud and leaves, and he was laying on the ground. He was covering his face strategically with more mud. Effie sighed heavily. Haymitch and the woman sitting beside her gave her a questioning look. 

"It's just such a shame," Effie said, still not taking her eyes from the screen. "Peeta and Katniss would have been an adorable couple. Haymitch, remember the way they defended each other’s skills back in the penthouse suite? They were so sure of one another and supportive too, even though technically they're fighting against one another."

"You're such a romantic, Effie," the woman said, smiling.

"Well, I can't help it! Oh, can you imagine? If romance was a part of the Games?" she said excitedly. Haymitch began to slowly sit up, staring at Effie. She looked at him and, happy with this new attention, continued. "I adore young love! I'm sure other people do too… What if two people could win? What if Katniss and Peeta could win?"

Haymitch's eyes were wide and a smile spread across his face, giving him an almost childish look about him. He clapped his hands together and began to laugh triumphantly. 

"You're brilliant, Effie!" he said, only his voice wasn't dripping with his usual sarcasm. He actually seemed quite sincere about it.

"I-I am?" she said happily. He stood up from the couch, still grinning from ear to ear.

"Yes! Oh this is perfect! You just saved everything! I could kiss you right now, Effie!" he said. Her eyes grew wide and a blush began to color her cheeks, but she looked down at her shoes before he could notice. "I'll be right back."

Haymitch raced out of the room, leaving Effie sitting dumbfounded, and blushing. 

 Haymitch returned fifteen minutes later. He still had a smile on his face and a happy glint in his eyes.

"What did you do, Haymitch " Effie asked, having composed herself again before he walked in.

"Any good announcements come on in the Games?" he asked vaguely, dodging her question.

"No. Why-"

"Attention, tributes. Attention," Claudius Templesmith's voice begins to say. The entire room became so quiet that one could hear a pin drop. Effie tore her eyes from Haymitch's grinning face to see Katniss on the screen, looking up expectantly. "The regulations requiring a single victor have been, suspended. From now on, two victors may be crowned, if both originate from the same district. This will be the only announcement."

Effie's mouth fell open, and Haymitch laughed at her.

"Peeta," they heard Katniss say, and she immediately covered her mouth with her hands.

Effie, quite literally, squealed. Haymitch was still smiling triumphantly.

"That was you?" she asked. He nodded. She squealed again and fell backwards on the couch, wrapping her arms around him. He sat up, pulled her along with him since she didn't take her arms off of him.

"Careful, sweetheart, you might break your corset," he teased. 

"Oh, it would be worth it," she said, finally letting go of him. She turned her attention back to the screen with a smile on her face. Haymitch looked at her, and couldn’t help but think that she would look pretty, if it weren’t for all the Capitol attire and make-up she had. He smiled at her excited face. She was like a teenage girl, so excited to see two people get together.

“Well,” Haymitch thought to himself, “I guess this is just a nice bonus for saving those two.”

He smiled and finally turned his attention back to the screen to watch Katniss begin her search for Peeta.

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Finnick groaned as he looked in his reflection. He had been dressed in pants that were a light tan color and ended in a few inches below his knee in a tight hem, but the rest was baggier. That part he didn't mind too much. The part that made him groan was the shirt, or lack there of. All he was wearing to cover up his torso was a net, and a very loose one at that. 

"This wouldn't even catch any fish," he complained to the capitol stylist who had dressed him. "The holes are too big for fish."

"Oh, whatever. Can you blame me for wanted to show off your muscles?" the stylist said. "Besides, it's what any capitol woman would want to see on Halloween."

Finnick groaned again. He was supposed to look like a fisherman, or at least that was what the stylist said the idea was. He hated this holiday, but it was one of the few ones the capitol had, so naturally all the victors were 'strongly encouraged to attend.' 

"I'm going to see if the others are ready," Finnick said, leaving the room. 

He made his way down the hall, knocking on the doors of his fellow district four victors. At most doors, he would knock and quickly shout something, telling them to make their way downstairs, but he paused at a certain door. Annie Cresta, the nameplate on the door read. Finnick smiled and knocked, this time waiting for a reply.

"Come in," her voice rang through the door. He opened the door to find a girl dressed in an beautiful dress standing on the terrace, leaning over precariously. He ran up to her and grabbed her around the waist. She looked down at his familiar strong arms and smiled. "Hey, Finn."

"Hey, Annie. You look beautiful," he said.

"Why thank you. I believe the stylist said I am supposed to be a mermaid or something like that. She went on about this being some specific style of dress, but I got bored and tuned out what she was saying," she said, smiling sheepishly.

"Well, I think they just wanted an excuse to show of your natural beauty," he said. She laughed.

"Will you let me go? I want to see your costume," she said. He groaned and let her go. 

"Finn!" she squealed through her laughter. "Does that even count as an outfit? You're not wearing a shirt!"

"I would make a great fisherman, wouldn't I?" he said sarcastically, spinning to give her the full look.

Her laughter grew and she nearly feel over in her restricting dress, but he caught her just in time. Her laughter stopped as her green eyes looked up into his. Her hand was on his practically bare chest, and her breathing was deep. 

"I don't really mind that you're hardly wearing anything," she whispered with a blush. He smiled, and brought his lips closer to hers. "Finn, you'll mess up my lipstick. What will the capitol people think?"

He shrugged, and right before his lips were on hers he whispered back, "let them wonder."

His lips were so sweet on hers, and she kissed him back passionately. He slid his tongue along the seem of her lips, knowing from experience that she couldn't resist that. Sure enough, he got entry and their kiss deepened. They knew they were supposed to be downstairs to take pictures and be interviewed, but they let themselves not care as they lost themselves in their loving kiss.

[winning-wont-help]

Finnick got up from his bed when he heard a knock at his door. He wasn't wearing a shirt, just his plaid pajama pants, but he didn't really care. Whoever was knocking on his door at five o'clock in the morning had that coming to them. 

"Annie?" he said when he opened the door.

"Good morning, Finn," she said with a sweet smile as she let herself in.

"Wha- Aren't you supposed to be in the Captiol?"

"Don't say you're disappointed to see me, Finn," she said, the smile falling off her face.

"Oh, no! I love seeing you, it's just... The capitol rarely cancels appointments," he said. Her sweet smile made its reappearance.

"Oh they didn't cancel," she said, plopping herself down on one of the white couches in his living room. "I just told them I didn't want to go."

Finnick's face paled and his eyes went wide. The shock was plastered on his face for a moment, but then it was quickly replaced with anger, something he hardly ever showed towards Annie.

"You what?! You could get yourself killed!" he bellowed, making the frail girl jump. "How could you be so stupid?!”

"Finn, please stop," she said with tears in her eyes. Then she laughed. Not her real laugh, but the crazed kind that made Finnick even more afraid.

"You don't get it!" he yelled, trying to keep the tears from his eyes. "Don't you know what the capitol does when you disobey their orders?! Look at my parents! The Capitol killed them the first time I refused to go! Then they... they..."

Finnick couldn't finish. He remembered the moment when Annie's name was reaped. He would never forget it. The crushing guilt he felt, because he knew that her name was picked because of the second time he refused to go to the capitol and sleep with a capitol woman. He never refused them after that. Almost loosing her was enough to show his young, arrogant self that he was not above the capitol. He would never be above the capitol.

"Finn? Finn, say something," she said with a worried look in her eyes. She had gotten up and was standing in front of him, holding one of his hands in both of her small ones. "Why are you so upset with me?"

"Because I'm afraid of what they might do," he said. He broke down and began to cry. She wrapped her arms around him, and began to rub his bare back soothingly. 

"It will be alright," she whispered. "It's only the first time. It will be fine."

Finnick nodded, but he knew there would be repercussions for what she did. He knew they wouldn't kill her, but he knew they would hurt her. They would hurt her in a way that they knew would affect her, affect her as much as when she saw her tribute partner killed in her games.

And he was right, because the next day her parents drowned in what the Capitol claimed to be an "unfortunate accident for our beloved victor."