Spark to Flame: A Finniss Story

Pt I: Flame to Inferno

It feels like a week since the elevator incident, but in reality it's only been a few days.

Finnick stopped his annoyingly straightforward advances, and in the course of only a few hours she became dangerously suspicious – had he gotten what he wanted? Was he going to stop messing with her for good? Was he trying some kind of new, dastardly tactic against her that she had never even encountered before and therefore had no idea how to deal with? Had he found someone else to capture his interest? - All of these things and more flew through her head over the past four days, and Katniss was beginning to think she was driving herself mad.

She doesn't know why, but she just can't stop thinking about it.

It baffles her that he would just stop messing with her completely, as it makes almost no sense at all, and it makes her angry that she can't figure out his motives. His sudden inconsistency towards her is infuriating, yet she knows that she should feel happy and relieved that she's finally being left alone. She would never bring herself to admit (or even think to admit, for that matter) that she actually missed him, of course, but it doesn't mean that it isn't constantly at the back of her mind. She's getting used to being alone for most of the day again, yet it doesn't seem to bring her the same sense of peace and solace that it used to.

She tells herself it's because she's being overrun with a sense of paranoia at being so abruptly thrown back into her old routine, thinking that at any second Finnick Odair will swing around the corner and shock her into his bedroom, but even she isn't that much of a liar to believe it. She knows fully well that it doesn't feel the same anymore to go about her day like she used to, and it's a feeling that's mostly neutral but borders on the negative side, which she admittedly doesn't like. She's just too stubborn to acknowledge the cause of it.

Katniss stands up from the lounge chair she's been sitting on for the past two hours, mildly stretching out her back. She feels her spine pop as she does so, which no doubt is a result from being hunched over thinking herself to death. She looks over at the indoor swimming pool a few yards away that is meant for training but is mainly used for stress-relieving purposes by the Victors – compliments of the Capitol – with its bluer than blue waters and eerie, ever-moving reflections onto the walls and ceiling, and sighs. 

She had decided to go for a swim to try and clear her head (and because she couldn't sleep) but ended up being in the water for just a few minutes before she changed and dried herself off on one of the lounge chairs. It wasn't that late – nine or ten o'clock at best – but she felt as though she'd been up all night. Which was strange, because at the same time it felt as though she had boundless energy. At least enough to think herself into oblivion for two hours.

In a nutshell, her body felt tired but her mind didn't. Which wasn't a very good combination. She knew this, but it didn't stop her from tiring herself into next Tuesday, or whatever the saying was. And now her hair was dry, her time was wasted, and she didn't feel any better.

Deciding to just call it quits, Katniss wrapped her sleeping robe around herself and tied it off at her waist (which was more for warmth than anything, she shouldn't have been stupid enough to go trotting out into the halls in a tank top, shorts, and bare feet) grabbing her towel off the chair behind her and checking to make sure she wasn't leaving anything else behind. When she was satisfied, she decided to leave, but she hadn't gone two steps when she noticed a figure standing in the doorway.

"Hey, Fire Girl!" Finnick greeted, giving a little wave. "I didn't know you went on midnight swims too!"

After the shock of seeing him after so long, let alone speaking with him, passes, she can't help but feel annoyed at how loud he's being when the others are trying to sleep. Not that they would hear him, thanks to the sound-proof walls of each Victor's room in order to ensure 'maximum focus and durability' in the arena, but it still doesn't sit well with her to come bounding into the nearest room and burst out every sentence at the top of your lungs (which granted, is an exaggeration, but it might as well be the truth at this hour).