BLOOD ON MY HANDS || Finnick Odair

twenty six; the ending parade.

AUTHORS NOTE
constant mentions of throwing up near the end, nothing overly descriptive tho

Eventually, Chaol went inside.

They hadn't talked much after his last admission, and while Eden knew he should go back inside and be present at the dinner organized for him, he just couldn't do it. The tour was wearing on him, at the parts of his old self that had were left. The parts that had survived.

It horrified him, but he could stomach his three kills as something he did for Cissy to survive. But traveling to their homes, bragging in front of their families that he'd won? That he was the reason the life they'd raised was gone?

That, he couldn't take.

Eden sat on the curb with his elbows on his knees, the dainty little ring held in his hands. A shine of street lights flickered through the gem briefly, as if it were taunting him. He hadn't looked at the ring — hadn't properly held it — because he didn't want to taint it.

The blood staining his hands would take away the purity of what it stood for. The beauty and hopefulness of it. He didn't want to touch it with hands that no longer deserved it.

The happy boy in love that had bought it didn't exist anymore. Even then, he couldn't bring himself to give it to anyone else. Maybe in the future, if Eve met someone he would give it to them but now...for now, it would stay with him.

Or maybe Chaol could take it...

No.

That wouldn't be fair.

If Chaol met someone again, Eden knew he wouldn't give up the ring he made Beau. But he didn't deserve a ring that was abandoned by the man who bought it.

It would be hard to get over Beau, and the loss Chaol felt. Eden knew it because the way he talked about him, the agony he couldn't hide...he'd felt all of that for Flora. Still felt it.

The scuff of a shoe on the pavement had him snapping out of his thoughts. Dressed in a tailored woollen jacket and white slacks, Finnick Odair took his hands from his pockets and sat beside him. "Cayman took her to bed," Finnick told him.

Even without saying the name, Eden knew who he meant. "That's good," he murmured. His eyes now settled on the roadway, unfocused and blank. "It's getting pretty late; I'm surprised she didn't crash earlier."

"She really fought it," Finnick chuckled. "Cayman carried her out kicking and flailing." He took a breath. "She's growing so fast."

From the last time he'd seen her a month or so ago, Eden knew the change would be significant.

Since their first encounter at the party, Eden had been paired with Finnick on several occasions. The reasoning was two handsome young men should get the screen time they deserve, but in reality it was to appease the women of the Capitol.

So they had appeared on Cesar Flicker man's show he hosted when the games weren't on. They were asked about how much their lives had changed, what they were planning for their future and so on.

It was easy to get along with Finnick. He was oddly flirtatious with everyone just as Beau had said, but it became apparent that was part of his charm. It was some of what had kept him alive to win the 65th Hunger Games.

The real Finnick Odair was the man he'd met in the party bathroom, warning him about what he drank. The quiet, gentle man who had let him know he wasn't alone in the most discreet way possible. It was fair to say he considered Finnick something close to a friend, though he wasn't sure if this new version of himself deserved that kind of respect.