The Life of A Victor || Finnick Odair

CHAPTER 32

"If I show my feelings or anything else to the Capitol, you'll be someone's companion, Dove. If someone desires you, I have to try to convince them to pick me instead. And I don't think I'm the only one who got that warning." Finnick confessed as he glanced back at her. He could almost see her thoughts going wild just from her expression.

"But he promised. He promised if I entertained people with my songs, he would let you off!" Dove raised her voice. He has played with us. He has done it again. She continued to ramble inside her mind. But her thoughts came to a stop when she caught Finnick's worried glance. He had agreed to the deal for sure.

"Don't do it. Don't you dare trade places," she added, her right hand leaving his and clenching both her hands into tight fists. She was enraged. Not with him, but with herself. Every time she wanted to do anything for the people she loved, something went wrong, and she ultimately ended up being the protected one. 

I'm tired of it. She thought, letting her gaze droop to her hands as if they were the most interesting thing at the moment. With deep breaths, she relaxed and rubbed her lap to get rid of the sweat on the palm of her hands. 

"I wish it was only the deal I had to be worried about," Finnick commented in a whisper, causing Dove to stare at him confused. She placed a hand on his arm, rubbing it lightly as she waited for him to continue explaining. "Like you said, I volunteered for my games, but it was because I didn't know what they really meant." He paused.

"I grew up thinking winning the Hunger Games was honourable. It took me a great deal to understand everything behind them. I believed everyone thought the same as me before the Games, so I started hating everyone that had anything to do with it. . .  Even you and your family," he told her, rejoining their once intertwined hands to drive her closer to him. He placed their hands on his lap as he caressed hers.

"You hated us?" Dove asked, perplexed, causing her to let go of the grip on his arm to clench her nightgown tightly. Sure, her past self expected that reaction from him, but now, after all they had been through, it was tough to imagine.

"Yeah, at least, until Melo came by to my house and apologised. Did you know his first words to me were 'I'm so sorry you're going through this shit, and I'm even more sorry for not being able to help or understand you whatsoever,'?" Finnick added with a melancholic smirk, gazing from their hands to her eyes as he spoke. 

"Yeah, it sounds like him," Dove replied with a light chuckle. Her brother never told her about his first conversation with Finnick. Not that she asked, anyway. At the time, she was too focused in her own self-hatred to pay any mind to the new Victor's interaction with her brother.

"That same day, I realised not everyone saw the Games the same way I did. I should have guessed that Victor's children, who see the consequences of the Games in their parents, wouldn't be too keen on the idea, but I was dumb," Finnick explained, letting his eyes focus on their hands, which now that he noticed, his own were shaking. 

"Is that what's bugging you?" She asked, inching closer towards him, leaving them as closer as they could get. Their arms brushed each other, and Dove could even hear Finnick's quick heartbeat, or was it her own?

"Not exactly, I know what I thought was dumb. But what bothers me is until what point have I grasped the true idea of the Hunger Games correctly? In three years, I've gone from wanting to participate, then regret it, and then hate it." His hands shook uncontrollably, and his lips were tightly closed. Dove couldn't see his eyes clearly because of the soft light in her room, but she was sure they weren't as lively as they used to be.

"Then ask. Whenever you don't understand something or think you're wrong, ask any of us. Melo, Mags, Muscida, Ron, my mum, me, we're your family now. Ask us, we'll explain to you our point of view, and then get to a conclusion together." He nodded to her suggestion with a smile plastered on his face.