Querencia | Finnick Odair

Chapter XXI

And as usual I wake up at night and move onto the roof, where Finnick is already waiting.

"Hey fishboy", I smile. "Hey Tally."

We sit on the platform and talk. "Why don't you at least hope that your tributes are going to make it?", Finnick questions, after I tell him that I don't really believe in another District 9 winner. "You know what they say about hope. It breeds eternal misery."

Finnick laughs. "I like you. Just brutally honest." I shrug. "Only when I can. And with you that's possible. Johanna too."

"Okay, so if you can be honest with me, please answer my question. I mean you don't have too, but..well. Is President Snow...you know..giving out favours?"

I look at him. "Take your guess", I mumble.

"SHIT!", Finnick exclaims and slams his hand against the floor. "What did he do?! What did he do to make you..."

"Make me a toy for people to enjoy until I am broken? Killed my grandparents."

No emotion finds its way into my voice, I am just staring at the city lights.

"You are not a toy, okay? Never, ever believe that. You are strong and brave and compassionate and fun. He can't take that from you"

"How would you know?", I question.

"Because I was watching you from the moment I saw you getting reaped. Your head held high, no shaking hands, no smile, no tears. Just telling your escort, and I quote 'yes, I am thrilled to go die in an arena by the hands of other kids', after she asked you if you were excited. The carriage ride, with no smiling or waving. Then your interview, where you absolutely refused to tell anything private and still made them love you. The way you fought in your games, how you laid Tristan to rest, how you charmed everybody. And then when we met on the rooftop, when I taught you how to swim. You were flirty and fun and happy. So yeah, that's the way I know...And Johanna does too. She hates most people, but the moment you fought against existing rules she liked you."

I just stare at Finnick. And I want to draw. For the first time in half a year, I want to draw. I want to draw him. So I rush to my floor, ask Penelope, who I was very happy to meet again, for drawing supplies and hurry back up.

Finnick is very perplexed, but during I sketch I start talking.

"I couldn't draw. I loved drawing, sketching and capturing moments. But after my first visit, I lost myself. I still know how I was looking out the window of that guys apartment and depicted myself drawing the night sky, but then he did what he paid to do and every time I picked up a brush my body reacted as if allergic. I was back there, I could feel all of it. Usually I would just break down and cry and scream or punch my hands raw. I forgot that I was more, that there was more to me than a doll, more than a toy. But now, I want to draw. You just, with what you said, I want to draw", and I smile, I smile a real genuine smile and it feels so good.

"My first appointment was my sixteenth birthday. That woman with blue hair just did what she wanted and I knew if I wanted to protect my sister, Annie, there is nothing I could do. So I felt like you. But I had to be there for my sister and then she was reaped and from my desperation grew anger and I found my worth again. Then I met Johanna, who was simply amazing and we became best friends. One day she just stopped and paid the price. But she stayed strong and I always tell myself if she can handle that, I can handle my tragedy."

Then we sit in silence and I draw. The charcoal sketch is black and white, except for his eyes. His eyes are the deep sea green colour, mixed with some golden flecks.

"I am done", I smile, even after our exchange of sad stories and hand Finnick the picture. "You can have it. As a thank you or something", I mumble and blush when Finnicks jaw drops.

"That is amazing. Its beautiful", he says.

"Thank you."

"You are too, by the way."

I look up.

"Beautiful."

He moves his hand towards my face, brushing a lock away from it and then traces my jaw. At that I flinch and the hairs on my arms shoot up. Finnick retracts his hand.

"I am sorry. I should have known. Truly...I am..", he murmurs but I interrupt.

"It's fine. Really. I can't control it, but it has nothing to do with you", I say, give him a short kiss on the cheek, before disappearing down the stairs and catching two hours of good sleep.