The Reaper | F. Odair

Twenty-eight

I doubt there was any other reason.

The rest of the footage I'm in an odd daze. It's familiar, but again I just don't feel any remorse or... anything. Even watching Annie die in my arms I just feel empty, the only words in my mind though are regret, but I just don't feel it. It's like when you know, you just know someone is going to die, but even when they die you still cry. I know I felt regret, I know I probably did for years, but right now I just...

A sigh pours out of my mouth and my knees drop down as I'm announced victor, the tablet sliding down too. How long have I been here watching this? How many times have I watched myself almost die, watched myself clean blood off, watched myself stitch my own fucking wounds?

How many times have I wished I could feel guilty like I once did?

Another sigh slips out as I pull my knees back up and turn on the 75th. I've been avoiding this for who knows how long now, but I desperately need something, even just a base to fill in the gaps. I set the footage to play at a quicker speed, and within just almost thirty seconds the bloodbath was over. A frown tugs at my lips as it speeds up due to the lack of activity, just to slow down as Peeta runs into the forcefield. Finnick quickly finds himself on top of Peeta trying to start his heart as I'm there fighting with Katniss on the floor. It's weird to see Peeta without bruises and scars, weird to see him muscular and healthy. His pale and frail image is all I think of when I think of him now.

My eyes remain glued to the screen, even when the night comes and the fog arrives -- even when I actually see Mags die. She ran into the fog and immediately her skin began to bubble and blister, her mouth fell open and a silent cry came out as tears formed in her eyes. She quickly fell to her knees -- I can't watch that.
I skim past it, my stomach flipping on itself as for the first time in forever I can feel guilt creeping its way into my heart. Mags should be alive and I should be the one on that floor. I should be the one in the casket right now, not her.

I cross my legs and lay the tablet in the middle and hold my head. I can feel tears in my eyes, my throat growing tight. How can I cry over her death and no one else's?

A weak sob slips out and a tear falls onto the screen. I can hear the door creak open as I quickly cover my eyes to stop the tears. Whoever's come in is being extremely quiet, but I can feel their eyes on me.

I suck in a breath, "go away..."

"Are you okay?" the voice asks, I flinch and my head snaps up.

I blink as I wipe a tear, "what are you doing here?"

Finnick smiles weakly as he reaches for one of the stools in the room. My heart is racing and I don't know if it's a good or bad thing as he sits down at the edge of the door. "You've been in here for like... two days. You should eat something."

I choke down the lump in my throat, "I'm... not hungry."

"You're crying."

"So?"

"You'll dehydrate yourself quicker."

I scoff and wipe my eyes again, "I'm used to crying." I mumble as I look back down at the screen -- monkeys.

"You shouldn't be..." he sighs, his eyes still on me.

"Well I am and you can't do shit about it." I spit, "I can't exactly change the past."

"Sorry..." he mumbles, "I guess you still hate me."

"Of course I fucking hate you." I seethe, "you're the only reason why I'm in this mess."

I look up to see a look of shock on his face. "What?" he chokes.

I raise a brow, "the hell do you mean 'what?'"

"I'm confused is what. How is this my fault?"

"You're the reason why I had to climb into strangers' beds." I hiss, "you hate me, you wanted revenge so you told Snow to make me a fucking slut!"

Finnick goes stiff, his eyes wide as his mouth drops. My heart jerks, part of me wished it wasn't true. A lump comes into my throat as his lip quivers.

"Snow asked if I hated you... a-at the time I did, Aaron, but he never said or asked anything else..."

I frown and gulp, "did we ever like each other?"

Finnick slowly leans down, his elbows resting on his knees as he grasps his hands, "we despised each other at first." he says, voice cracking with obvious sadness, "the first time I met you I didn't even know who you were until you reminded me of killing your sister."

A frown tugs at my lips, "you offered to sleep with me when we met."

"...I was doing my job."

"Offering to sleep with a tribute as a victor is not doing your damn job."

Finnick sighs, "we... used to fight all the time after you won. Do you remember?" he asks calmly.

My frown grows, "I remember the fights..."

I swear I can see a faint, sad smile, tug at his lips. "Our fights turned into pranks, pranks that caused you and I to become friends..."

"Pranks?" I mumble, the memories still fuzzy.

A weak chuckle comes out, "you once somehow got cake or something all over me," he explains, slowly looking up at me and raising his hands, "you 'did it by accident' at the time," he does air quotes, "I doubt it, though."

My frown stops tugging and instead I can feel a weak smile, "probably deserved it..."

Finnick snorts, my heart somehow aches and jumps at the same time. "Well it did make me like you."

I blink as he looks back down, my mouth drops, "wait, what?"

He sighs again, "anyways... I came to check on you and I only had so much time. I have to go somewhere, and even if you hate me I just..." he slowly stands up and shoves his hands into his pockets, "I wanted to say goodbye just in case..."

"Just in case?" I echo quietly.

He nods, "in case this is the last time we see each other."

"Where are you going?"

"I can't tell you."

"Why can't you tell me?"

He silently shrugs and pushes the chair away with his foot, "I want you to make a full recovery, Aaron. If I can come back, I want to be able to see you again, even if you still hate me." he says, ignoring my question entirely.

I sit up in my bed immediately, "Finnick, the hell are you talking about?" I spit -- my eyes are starting to sting again.

His eyes don't lock onto mine, they don't even go to mine, they just drift towards the door as he walks out without another word. My mouth falls open and the tears fall. I stare for a moment as they form and fall, and finally a broken sob and hiccup come out. I suck in a painful breath and slump forward as another sob, a painful sob, comes out.
The fuck did he mean if he could come back? Another sob slips out -- why am I crying? I hate that guy, I despise him right? Another sob, more painful than the last comes out and I cover my face quickly with my hands. I feel like my insides are being grabbed and ripped apart -- this is worse than any torture they had me go through in the Capitol.

I can barely open my eyes from all the tears, my ears start to ring as I barely manage to see the tablet's screen fully. I grit my teeth and scream, immediately shooting up and throwing the tablet at the wall before dropping my face into my hands again.

The image of Finnick kissing me in that arena did not make me feel any better.