Finnick Odair's Story: Dark Secrets (The Hunger Games Fanfiction)

Different Kinds of Love

The day after Annie enters the arena, I am called to a meeting with President Snow, something I have been dreading since the nightmare. Everyone is talking about the Games, but I cannot bring myself to watch them yet. If I watch Annie being murdered, I know I'll be haunted by that image as well. As I do my own hair and choose my own outfit, I wonder whether Annie is thinking about me; I doubt it, she just thinks I'm a freak since I had that awful dream.

Annie. I think I love her. The way she walks with an air of elegance, swinging her hips from side to side. Her long, magical hair flowing in a stream down her slender back. This isn't just lust, the way I've felt about almost every single girl I've met in the Capitol. There's a longing here as well, to simply be with Annie and have her love me back. Stop it, Finnick. As if Annie would ever fall for you, especially when she has Zac.

Shaking these thoughts from my mind, I choose a smart black pair of trousers to go with a silky blue shirt, which softly caresses my skin. Leaving two buttons undone to show off my sculpted, athletic chest, I tousle my wavy blonde hair until it is in perfect condition. Unfortunately, I haven't quite mastered the art of concealing the dark purple circles under my eyes so I leave them. Perhaps it will show Snow how the Games have destroyed me, and how I'm not coping well living here in the Capitol. I give my reflection a weak smile as I check the mirror for the thousandth time before leaving. To my surprise, Eli praises my clothing choices and wishes me luck with a solemn expression; he too looks as if he hasn't slept in a very long time.

I'm shaking more and more as we get closer to the Justice Building, the President's huge home. The driver turns round to ask me for an autograph for his daughter, who is sixteen and 'speaks of me all the time.' For some strange reason, the man's eyes look familiar to me. He has blonde hair and golden eyelashes, and his eyes crinkle in happiness as I sign the piece of paper. Then it hits me - this man is Elise's father, official adviser to the President. Of course he would be the one sent to fetch me from the mansion, there is no one else who is close enough to Snow to be trusted with my safe transport. Little does he know of the many nights I've spent with his daughter, but I happily sign anyway before he escorts me inside.

''You know, Finnick, I've tried to talk the President out of this. I just want you to know that in case you turn against me on the way back,'' Elise's father says as we walk along the silent corridors, as if he's attempting to reassure me that he had no part in sealing my fate. Laughter rings from my mouth sharply before I can stop it, and I'm met with a startled look. Snow was already out to get me, did this man really believe he could ever change his mind?

"Finnick," Elise whispers softly, as she unbuttons my shirt. Her hands are as light as a feather when she runs them over my chest, stopping to rest for a second or two on my steadily beating heart. I can't help but let a moan escape my lips.

"Shush," she giggles. "We might get caught."

I laugh and revel in the knowledge that Eli and Tricia are fast asleep on the floor above us, snoring away to their hearts' content. "Oh, I wouldn't worry about them. They've been asleep for hours."

"Is that so?" Elise says, a little louder than a whisper this time. As her hands trace patterns on my chest, I press my lips firmly to hers, mouths colliding fiercely in a tangle of arms and legs.

''Hey, Elise?'' I gasp in between desperate kisses. ''Any secrets worth my time this week?'' I've been seeing a lot of Elise, she's quite knowledgeable about everything that goes on in the Capitol because her father is adviser to President Snow.

''I don't know,'' she says, kissing me again whilst beginning to undo her dress. ''Why don't you stop talking and we'll find out?''

I almost feel guilty for reliving this memory in the presence of Elise's father, as if he can read my mind. That would not be good. Eventually we reach the President's office, and we knock. After a few minutes of awkwardly standing and waiting, the doors make a buzzing noise and slowly slide open. Just like in my dream, Snow beckons me over with one gnarled finger and I experience a strange case of deja vu.