"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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Squad 451 helped themselves to the array of rare treats the previous occupant of their hideout had graciously left behind for them. Decadent confectioneries and sugary snacks formed one of the most flavourful meals they'd ever had on their mission, albeit slightly less nutritious but no one voiced much concern for that aspect impacting their health. When they were risking their life on a daily basis, diet became the least of their worries.
Though as they were munching into the Capitol's finest selection of bon-bons and truffles, the screen in the centre of the room came alive once again. The Panem anthem blared out into the silence, the symbol of the Capitol displayed on all sides of the cubed monitor to ensure no one could possibly miss the announcement. But as a familiar booming sound accompanied the music and Cressida's face popped up in front of them, the squad quickly realised that this wasn't an ordinary broadcast.
The faces of the film crew flashed up one by one, their name and place of origin printed beneath (the Capitol in their case). Though as Messalla's commemoration was replaced by Finnick's with District Four written underneath, the man himself began to chuckle from his seat next to Dahlia. She didn't know the exact reason he found his own death so amusing, but it made more sense once her own photo was plastered on the screen.
It was a strange feeling to be pronounced as dead, like staring down at your own name etched on a gravestone:
'Here lies Dahlia Blossom... A menace to the Capitol who will be missed by none.'
But there was also a strange sense of freedom to it. They were ghosts now, unrestrained by the rules of the living world and completely free to do as they wished. The possibility of liberty was exhilarating to a couple who had known subjugation and servitude to a government they had never believed in. They could go anywhere, do anything, be anyone... But why did it take dying to release them from their persecution and tyranny? It wasn't right for them to find freedom in death, but that's what every citizen of Panem experienced. And that's why they needed to end this fight.
Finnick, still amused by the announcement of their deaths, leaned in close to whisper in Dahlia's ear, "I believe they got your name wrong."
It was true. The Capitol had advertised her last name as 'Blossom', despite the fact that her wedding to Finnick was publicised for all of Panem to bear witness. Turning to her husband with her left hand raised to display her wedding ring, Dahlia lovingly murmured back, "I'm an Odair now. And proud of it."
Finnick couldn't help but grin in adoration. God, he loved his wife, he thought to himself as he took Dahlia's hand in his own and placed a lingering kiss over her left ring finger. He maintained eye contact long after his lips had left her skin and refused to separate as he nuzzled his cheek against their joined hands.
Once the presentation of the supposed deceased had ended with the two Victors from District Twelve, a familiar and unwelcome face was next to appear on the screen. All the air seemed to be sucked out of the room and replaced with a tense atmosphere as President Snow leered down at the squad condescendingly.
