↳ i don't rise from the ashes, i make them...
oc x finnick odair
catching fire - mockingjay pt. 2 (flashbacks included)
TW: Depression, thoughts of suicide, use of drugs/alcohol, use of tobacco, detailed gore, use of weapons, death, and mentions/sug...
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When I know it's time to wake up, I also immediately decide that I don't want to. I feel my cheek, still pressed to Finnick's bare chest, reaping any source of warmth I can get from him. If it were up to me, I just wouldn't move at all, remaining in this same space as my body continues to stay magnetized to his, one I am so familiar with through the years, but also find myself knowing so, very little about.
I know that the choice to continue resting isn't up to me from the soft brushes of Finnick's fingertips pulling stray hairs across my forehead and back behind my ear where they belong. I want to pretend like I'm still sleeping - like I have no excuse to move in reaction to his motions, but from the way the morning light shines through the window where my back is turned away, I know that I don't have as much of a choice as I would like to.
We'll be arriving in the Captiol soon, and I'll have to face people before long, which happens to be one of my least favorite activities, and certainly on an occasion like this.
I begin to sit up slowly, remaining as close to Finnick as I can as I peel my sealed eyes open. "Good morning, sleepy," he replies, his voice still scratchy with sleep. I soak it in, trying to hold every single detail of this moment as close to myself as possible. I don't ever want to let go of any of it - the way the golden sunlight gets tangled in his blonde, wavy hair, the morning shadows that highlight the rigid muscles protruding from his chest, my palm against his heart as I hear the dull beat of it against my own skin, his hand gliding against the soft skin on my back, the shallow lines on the corners of his mouth as he grins, his green eyes capturing me. I want to keep it tucked tightly to my heart - to never let it go, no matter what happens to us.
This moment is ours.
"Good morning," I reply, feeling my lips curl into a grin. I realize how much I'm enjoying this moment - how I'm coming to terms with the fact that I would do nearly anything to bask in it just a little longer. I wonder if I had ever wanted this before - if deep down I had been longing for such relations with him, but never knew it until recently. I've known him for what feels like forever, but never imagined us to end up like this; tangled between blankets and yearning for one another's mere proximity, yet something about it can only be desired.
"Are you nervous?" I ask, but then bite my lip, regretting bringing up such a negative topic during a time like this.
"For the Captiol?" he asks. I nod. "I guess I always am. There's always shit waiting for us, isn't there?"
"I guess so," I reply, somewhat solemn. I hate to crush a moment that felt so oddly promising to me, but I also know it would happen eventually by other forces. The Games and everything around us aren't going to halt in order for me to have time to be strangely love-stricken by someone I've been close to during the past six years, but just had an epiphany we could be more.
