Hurricane • F. Odair

twenty-one » electricity crackling

a/n: this is a long one, be warned

F I N N I C K

FIVE YEARS AGO

It took the next games to see her again. Annie told him that she visited, but he was always away on business when she did. He couldn't help but look for her in the colorful crowds of the Capitol. Their tributes were getting scrubbed clean, so surely she was mingling somewhere. The party for mentors was in full swing. Old friends greeted one another happily. Finnick found himself often surrounded.

She found him first. Cool rage flooded her face, and he knew why she was angry.

"Annie?" she hissed. The girl they both adored had been reaped this year. Her kind heart would surely get her killed.

"You think I wanted this to happen?" He hissed in return. It was difficult to focus on what she was saying with the dress she had on. A cowl neck, spaghetti straps, and Aegean silk decorated her skin almost lovingly.

He hated Paprika then.

"She won't survive, Odair. She's too good and it'll rip her apart if something else doesn't do it first." Her words and sharp tone made him draw back.

He looked around, finding many of the mentors to be staring. Placing a careful hand on her waist, he pulled her around the corner to keep from watching eyes.

"Since when do you not believe in her?" He snapped quietly.

Her head reared back in surprise. "I don't believe in her?" She scoffed. "She's going to fight tooth and nail, but..." she choked on her words. "It's Annie."

Frail, sweet Annie. Annie who laughed at birds and pet the crabs when she caught them.

Her eyes glistened this time. He hated to see her in any sort of pain.

"Mags and I will take special care of her, okay?" He reassured. His palm burned as it rested on her waist still, his fingers gently scratching her back.

"Better fucking promise me that you will, Odair." She jabbed a shaking finger in his chest, face inches from his.

"I..." he cleared his throat. "I promise."

She did something unexpected, then. She leaned her forehead against his shoulder. He struggled to keep his breathing even.

He had been with many people, in far more intimate positions, so why was it that she did such things to him?

"I won't lose her, Finnick," she whispered. "I can't." His thumb rubbed gentle circles on her waist. He was unsure of what to do. He had comforted many people in a variety of ways, but Althea was foreign to him.

"You guys decent over there?" A voice jokingly called from around the corner. The voice belonged to Thatcher Golsbane, her co-mentor. "Don't want to walk in on anything."

"All good, Thatch." She pulled her head from his shoulder, detaching herself from his hold too soon.

"Just wanted to check. Rumors fly in a city like this," Thatcher said quietly. "Didn't want you to be caught by someone who would say anything."

Althea rolled her eyes. "We were just having a. . . heart to heart."

Thatcher rounded the corner, eyeing Finnick quickly. "Just making sure she didn't kill you." A smirk came about his lips. "Thea's heart to hearts aren't what you'd think. She's usually pretty violent."