Sugarcubes // Finnick Odair - Hunger Games Fanfic

IV.

I feel like I need to wash the events of the day away. It's too icky and sad and angry for my liking. After all, I'm supposed to be the happy girl from district 7. Anger doesn't suit me very well, but I get angry way too often nevertheless. I strip off my white cotton dress and leave it on the floor, not bothering to pick it up like I would back home. I step out of the dress and into the bathroom attached to my room. I'm immediately taken aback by the fanciness of the bathroom – there are buttons in each direction in plenty. After standing there in shock, followed by twenty minutes of looking for a user manual, I strip off my inner garments and step inside the shower. I press a random button which is a light hue of pink, which sprays warm water of me from above – as if I'm standing in the summer rain. It's wonderfully calming. Another button, this time the exact colour of the sky at sunset - a soft orange, though words can't describe the shade well enough, makes me smell like the damp summer forest, the scent that makes me feel the most comfortable. Once I'm finished, I wrap myself in one of the plush towels hung in the bathroom and leave my wet hair open with it leaving water droplets down my skin. I feel fresh and born anew. I take a look in my closet, but am greeted by an overwhelming amount of colors and textiles, causing me to close it immediately and sit on the bed. I feel the drowsiness come as soon as I touch the soft fabric of the bed – a huge improvement from the floor of our hut – so I lay back in just my towel and fall asleep with the locket clutched in my hand.

Dreams come and go. But nothing I can remember when I am jolted awake. A pair of rough arms shake me awake and sit me up, not making sure about the towel I'm sleeping in. I open my eyes to see Blight in front of me, definitely with a pounding headache, but also definitely sober. Another look out the window says that it's nighttime. Why would he want to talk to me in the middle of the night?

"Put on some clothes. Meet me in the dining room."

And with that, he exits the room leaving me slightly embarrassed in a towel with damp hair, granted it's not dripping like before. Opening my cupboard for the second time, I find it's much less overwhelming. I pick out a pale green floral embroidered wide pant like the shirt my sister wore to the reaping yesterday, and a plain fleece white top. I slip out of my compartment barefoot, before deciding it might not be the best idea and going back only to find a pair of bunny fuzzy slippers waiting for me. Smiling, I slip on the slippers and slide the locket over my neck before stepping out and closing the door.

I find Blight in the dining compartment lounged on one of the fuzzy brown armchairs by the window. I sit down opposite to him and stare out the window, not wanting to be the first to start conversation.

"The most important thing in these games isn't about skill. It's about tact. You need sponsors. Sponsors can fund you and send down items when you're in the arena. They can be your key to get out alive, and the only way you get sponsors is by either being unforgettable or being likable. Choose and angle. Innocent. Cute. Deadly. Stick to it. Make them want to sponsor you. Make them like you."

I'm well and truly fucked.

"I'm not naturally likeable, Blight. I've barely known you and I've threatened you more times than I've talked to you." I say, sighing and rubbing my hand to my temple.

"Maybe, but that doesn't mean I don't like you. You stood up on that stage and took the mic from Rosa. Never seen anybody do that. You had the guts to chuck a knife at the person that holds the key to your survival in the arena. Never seen anyone do that anytime."

When he puts it like that, I feel like it was more stupid than gutsy or brave. I feel he knows that I'm about to argue, because when I open my mouth for the second time, he cuts me off.

"What are your strengths? Don't hold anything back. I need to know what I'm working with."

I eye him carefully. "I'm good with an axe. It's become kind of like therapy. Throwing axes. I have practice with that too. And I can carve. I can carve weapons. I've carved knives and buckets and boxes, even bows and arrows from wood before. And of course, you can't forget my charm." I finish, throwing him a wink at the last part.

He laughs loudly.

"I can work with that. Although maybe hold back on the charm if stabbing people is part of that." He replies, pouring himself some water and taking a sip. I see him wince, as though it's been a long time since he's drunk pure water, which makes me feel some pity for him. Maybe he's not as bad as I thought.

"Listen, kid, the biggest battle in there isn't physical. I'm sure, physically you'll have no trouble. It's the mental impact the games have on your brain. The effect of taking innocent lives. But whatever the impact, don't let it catch you, at least until you come home. It's called survival. It's horrible circumstances. You need to survive."

We sit in silence as I take in his newest piece of information. It's becoming dawn, so light is slowly flooding the room.

"Can I ask you something?" He says, abruptly as if deciding on it in the last moment. I nod my head slowly and cautiously.

"You don't seem like a blood thirsty lunatic. Why did you volunteer?"

I let out a shaky breath. I suppose the question would have to come at some point, and better I practice answering it firsthand.

"I have two siblings that depend on me for everything. My parents died when I was younger. Between tesserae and selling my carvings, we could always get by, but my brother – Danny – he fell sick. And the doctors in seven can't cure him. Only doctors from the capitol can. But I can't afford that. No matter how many times I put my name for tesserae, I can't. The only way I can afford that is if I become a Victor. I need to. And in any case, I couldn't let Anna into the games. I would have volunteered anyway. Her sister - my best friend - got reaped for the games 4 year ago. We all knew she wouldn't come back - she was twelve. But I could have saved her - I could have taken her place and I didn't. The mason family already lost a child I couldn't let them lose another one."

He looks at me with sad eyes.

"Well I hope your risk is worth it. I hope I see you come back."

I hope it is too. Because I don't know if they can do it without me.

Published: 12 September 2022