"Dahlia Blossom. Don't let the name fool you. She's better known as the Black Dahlia. And she didn't earn that nickname by smiling and looking pretty."
"She sure knows how to perform for the camera."
"Because she knows how to play the game. She alwa...
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"Tributes, mount up. Tributes, mount up." A male voice snaps the pair back to reality as various Tributes brush past them to reach their chariot.
"Allow me to escort you, m'lady." Finnick offers, presenting his outstretched arm for Dahlia to loop her hand through. She obliges happily, curling her arm around his bare bicep and allowing him to lead her away. Neither notices the knowing looks of the Tributes around them, too wrapped up in each other to care.
"Well," Dahlia sighs as they reach District Five's chariot to find Alaric waiting beside it. "I'll see you on the other side."
"I suppose so." Finnick says sadly, not thrilled for Dahlia to be leaving his side when he just got her back.
Dahlia notices his glum face and reaches out to cup his cheek with a forced smile. "Hey, we can talk more after the Parade." Nodding silently, Finnick internally orders his mind to pull himself together. Meanwhile, Dahlia exchanges a sly glance with Alaric who subtly bobs his head once in agreement. Getting the hint, Dahlia pulls Finnick into a sudden hug which he reciprocates almost immediately. "Meet us on the roof tonight." She whispers discreetly into his ear, using the embrace to cover up her actions and trying desperately hard not to focus on Finnick's exposed chest.
Though his eyebrows are furrowed in confusion as they pull away, Finnick dips his chin to signal that he understood her words. With a tight-lipped smile, Dahlia places a quick kiss on his cheek and then gestures for Alaric to mount the chariot first. But before she can step in behind him, her hand is caught in a gentle grasp.
"Lia, wait." Finnick exclaims quietly, gazing up at her with wide hopeful eyes. "I wanted to give you something." From a hidden pocket concealed under the fabric of his outfit, he nervously produces the black dahlia hair piece she had worn on the day the pair first met. It had been his most treasured possession, the object that kept him going through those long trips to the Capitol. If he was allowed it with him, it would've been his token for the Games. But he would settle for having Dahlia wear it during the Parade.
With a gasp of surprise, Dahlia steps forward and admires the flower nestled carefully in Finnick's hand. "You kept it?"
"Of course I did." Finnick insists, gazing at her with determined eyes. As if he would even think about getting rid of it. Although it was still creased and wrinkled, the imperfections are what made it special for him. Because Dahlia isn't a perfect being, but she's perfect for him. "I thought it would be appropriate for you to wear it once more. A flower for my flower." Dahlia's eyes twinkle with an unreadable emotion, shining brighter than the shards on her dress. "May I?" The girl is more than happy to accept, turning her back to the man so he may secure the flower in her sleek updo. "Back where it belongs."
"You know it'll always belong to you." Dahlia protests softly, gazing up at him with an ethereal smile. But she isn't talking about the flower.
"I'm rooting for you, Blossom." Finnick states, echoing the words he said to her so many years ago as he assists her into the chariot.
With a fond smirk, Dahlia replies with the same response she gave him as they parted before her first Parade, "Thanks for the words of encouragement, Odair." Leaning down, Finnick plants a feather light kiss on the top of Dahlia's hand, never once breaking eye contact. Then with a quick wink, he backs away and disappears to his own chariot. The smile doesn't leave Dahlia's face, her usually hidden dimples coming out on display. Alaric eyes her with a suspicious stare until she finally snaps out of her daze to notice him. "What?"
"I may be old but I am not blind, flower." Alaric says sternly, sending her a pointed look as she sheepishly glances away.
"I don't know what you're talking about." Dahlia denies, facing forward as the chariot starts to roll onwards.
"Can't deny it much longer." Alaric mutters under his breath, making Dahlia's face drop in despair. Alaric was right. They didn't have much time left before the Games started, and no one could predict what would happen once those cannons went off. Dahlia and Finnick are running on borrowed time now. Would they really be taking their true feelings to the grave?
Dahlia manages to harden her expression just as they emerge into the blinding daylight and are subjected to the roar of the crowd. Flowers fall down upon them like raindrops, dark petals fluttering by Dahlia's face as her mask sets into place. The drum beats echo through the ground and shoot up through the Tributes' bodies in tremors. The sun bounces off the glass shards decorating Dahlia and Alaric's outfits, naturally drawing the eyes of the Capitol. They chant her feared nickname like a battle cry, cheering her on as she is carted past them.
Unlike her first Tribute Parade, where getting people to like her was the ultimate goal, Dahlia didn't work hard to attract attention. She let her reputation speak for itself and kept her face as rigid as a statue. Alaric was doing the same next to her, surveying the crowd with an impassive expression. A fierce pairing engulfed in darkness yet shimmering with power.
As the audience's cheers grew impossibly louder and all eyes swivelled to the chariots of the outlying districts, Dahlia's eyes rolled in annoyance. The Girl on Fire was obviously living up to her name. The onlookers start to chant Katniss' name as Dahlia and Alaric's chariot passes in front of Snow's podium. She glares up at him with a deadly gaze as he just quirks a brow in an unbothered manner. This man has singlehandedly ruined her life and yet he sees her as little more than a speck of dirt on his shoe. The mere sight of him made her jaw clench in anger.
"It's alright, flower." Alaric mumbles softly to her, ensuring no one can hear or understand his soothing words. "It's over now. You did well."
Releasing a breath of relief she didn't realise she'd been holding, her shoulders ease from their tense position. Even when he doesn't do anything, Snow still manages to rile her up into an enraged state.
"I'm so glad that's over." She grumbles as the chariot slows to a stop in the large hangar once more. Wasting no time, she steps out of the chariot and jumps to the ground, heels clicking on the solid floor.
Johanna struts up to her with a grimace of annoyance as the District Twelve chariot rumbles in. "That Everdeen girl is getting on my nerves."
"It doesn't take much to do that, Jo." Dahlia points out, making Johanna pull a face in agreement. "But I have to agree. This whole Quarter Quell nonsense is to get rid of her. We're just the collateral damage."
The two girls don't let their eyes drift away from Katniss and Peeta as they approach Haymitch. They take a moment to converse with Seeder and Chaff before heading off to the elevators. Johanna suddenly perks up and hisses into Dahlia's ear, "Ooh. I'm going to join them. They can't escape from me if they're stuck in an elevator."
Dahlia chuckles at Johanna's eagerness to annoy the newest Victors. "Okay, Jo." Then she drops her voice to whisper, "See you tonight." With a hurried nod and a flash of green, the axe enthusiast disappears into the elevator with the District Twelve Victors just as the doors shut.
"Was that Johanna?" Finnick questions as he joins her, both staring off in the direction Johanna bounded off in. Dahlia hums in confirmation, still smirking at the torture Johanna will be inflicting on the young couple. "Poor kids."
