The Life of A Victor || Finnick Odair

CHAPTER 14

"Live with what?" Finnick asked, worried about what could have happened to her. "Killing innocent people, children, just like you. How do you cope with that?" Dove spoke again, louder this time. The question surprised him. That was a topic neither of them had dared to touch since they met.

"I don't. I drag myself out of nightmares and there's no relief in waking up. But it's better not to give into it," he said. "It takes ten times as long to put yourself back together as it does to fall apart."

She finally let go of her knees and sat more comfortably, looking straight into his eyes. Their situations were so similar, yet so different. Since Dove was a child, she expected the Victor's life to be perfect. She was a young, naive, and pampered fool. Now that she had somewhat grown up, a Victor's life didn't seem appealing to her.

"The more you distract yourself, the better. First thing tomorrow, I'll get you your own rope. Until then, take mine." He said, placing the rope on her hands. This had been the second time Finnick lent her the rope. Both times were to help her somehow. He was a wonderful boy who deserved nothing of what was happening to him.

"I've lost count of how many things I owe you already," he chuckled at her comment. Finnick didn't see what he was doing as something she should owe him for. He did it because he wanted to see her smile again. His thoughts seemed to lighten every time she laughed.

"How about, one day I'll ask you to do me a huge favour, which you can't say no to?" He proposed. In Dove's eyes, the deal was fair. Finnick had saved Melo from death and saved her from a massive mental breakdown twice. With no hesitation, she agreed.

That same night, Dove spent until the morning tying and untying knots, as she heard the voice of her brother and mother through nightmares. The Reaping was less than two weeks away. And, as the time approached, Dove went through almost sleepless nights, too scared to dream again about the Arena.

It was one week until the Reaping, when she went to the beach, much earlier than she normally would. Even though she had slept some hours in the past week, none were pleasant as they had been before the nightmares started.

"If it's like this now, that I know it's only a dream. . . What will happen once it's real?" she muttered under her breath. Staring at the sea, she hoped the Hunger Games would never arrive. She hoped her sister's name wouldn't get called. But there was no hope for her situation. The Hunger Games would come, her sister's name would get reaped, and she would volunteer. Everything was part of Snow's plan.

Dove put her hand in her jacket's pocket, taking the piece of rope Finnick had gifted her days ago. It was no longer cold in Four, quite the contrary, but at midnight it was still chilly on the beach, so she had to wear her sister's former light brown jacket to keep herself warm. 

Glancing back at the rope, Dove decided to practise the knots Finnick had been teaching her. She got to the hangman's knot, remembering that day made her smile. Finnick always tried to make her laugh. It didn't matter how bad the situation was.

"For someone who has only seen that knot one time, you've got the hang of it pretty quickly." Finnick's voice startled her. "Since when have you been here?" she asked, turning around to see him.

He sat next to her with a smile on his face. "Not that long ago. I saw you do the knots, and I wanted to know if I've been a good teacher," he said.

"You have been a brilliant teacher. I couldn't have asked for one better," she stated, laughing. "Oh, I'm flattered." He replied.

"Still can't sleep?" Finnick asked, concerned for the light-dark circles under her eyes that had been developing for a while. "I can, but not for long. The longest I've been asleep this last week has been three hours and thirty minutes, more or less," she uttered.