You Asked For This - Finnick Odair

The Parade

"Be brave. Even if you're not, pretend to be. No one can tell the difference."
— Unknown

..

When Cora and Finnick arrived at the Capitol, they were immediately rushed to be styled for the parade. They were able to cast one last glance to each other for support before being whisked away for the painful beautification process.

Perhaps the only good thing about Cora's occupation was that, since she had to undergo the waxing and plucking and scrubbing so frequently, it really didn't hurt all that much this time around. It had been a few months since her last session, the longest she'd gone between sessions since she began prostitution.

Her stylists were excited while prepping her, just like Ambrosia. They rambled on and on about how much of an honor it was to help style a Victor for the games. One of them, with blue skin and flaming red hair, scolded the woman for how hairy her legs had gotten on her months away.

The strawberry blonde had replied that she was enjoying actually having leg hair for the first time in eight years. She'd almost forgotten that her legs could grow hair, they'd been waxed so much.

She was left in her robe to wait for Klavien. When the man walked in, she felt a wave of nostalgia wash over her. He looked the same as he did when she first met him nine years ago. With the exception of one wrinkle near his left eyebrow and a pained expression in his auburn eyes. It was so subtle, the woman might've missed it. But it was there.

"I am afraid to inform you that I am not permitted to dress you as a pirate this time around," the man greeted her, not acknowledging the horror of their situation. "President Snow requested otherwise."

Cora narrowed her eyes. "What could he possibly have requested?"

...

The first thing Coral Newport heard as she approached her carriage was hysterical laughter from Johanna Mason. The brunette was twenty-one now and, just like in her first games, she was dressed as a tree. Only now her hair was short and spiky– she had cut it herself the night Snow announced the Quarter Quell.

"Did your stylist run out of fabric, or...?" The woman smirked at Cora.

The strawberry blonde wore gold netting that covered her just enough to not be considered naked. She wanted to strangle Snow for making her wear it.

"That's rich coming from the woman dressed like a tree," the green-eyed woman shot back with a matching smirk.

"At least I'm dressed."

"Fair," Cora laughed.

The women spent some time catching up, but abruptly stopped when they saw Finnick enter the space. His outfit was worse than Cora's. He had gold netting that was knotted strategically over his groin.

Johanna laughed again while Cora focused on keeping her gaze on his face and nowhere else.

Finnick, also attempting to keep his eyes from roaming (he was failing, but at least he tried), grinned. "Looks like we're matching."

Cora smiled that upside down smile of hers. "Looks like it."

The three turned and saw an avox giving sugar cubes to the horses. Over the years, Finnick had started a habit of giving the sugar cubes to the District 4 tributes. It was an act of kindness.

The man walked over and asked for a few before heading back to the women. "Sugar cube?" He asked with about twenty piled up in his hand.

Cora smirked, grabbed two, and tossed one to Johanna (who caught it without looking). "The star-crossed lovers are here," the strawberry-blonde noted, a smile twisting on her lips.

"Think they want any sugar cubes?" The man smirked.

"You go ask the Girl On Fire, I'll talk to Lover Boy."

"You two are gonna terrify them," Johanna muttered.

"You're one to talk," Cora shot back before making her way over to Peeta Mellark as Finnick approached Katniss Everdeen.

Peeta was seventeen years old, a baby. He had pale skin, blonde hair, and blue eyes. He was dressed in a coal-black outfit that would no doubt produce fire, just like his last one. His eyes widened, in fear or surprise, when he saw Coral Newport approaching him.

"Peeta," she smiled as if she was greeting an old friend. "So good to see you! How have you been?"

He hesitated just a moment before responding. "Could be better," he smiled, turning on that charm of his that the Capitol adored.

The woman smirked at this. "Well, at least you look fabulous. I'm a little jealous of you. I don't get the terrifying, fiery outfits."

"You seem to be doing just fine without them," he gestured to her body, but didn't look. Actually, he seemed to be avoiding looking at her at all.

She placed one of her fingers on his jaw and gently moved it to force him to look at her. He suddenly looked very uncomfortable, but only in his eyes. He hid it well.

"Still jealous," she smirked. She was jealous of him, not just for his outfit, but because he had Katniss. He didn't have to endure her same torture of being subject to the whims of Capitol citizens while being in love with someone he couldn't have. Although, Katniss wasn't really in love with him (or so she thought). So Peeta had to endure unrequited love, which was almost as bad.

Their faces were very close now. She knew that, somewhere not too far, Finnick was doing the same with Katniss.

"I can see why the Capitol loves you so much," the boy commented with a boyish smile, quickly shaking off his discomfort.

Cora's brows quirked a little. This boy was matching her energy. Not that she expected much less, but it did surprise her a little. "I like you," she whispered, still smirking and still dangerously close to him. "It's a shame our time is cut short, we could have been friends."

She paused for a moment, glancing over where Finnick and Katniss still were, before saying one last thing. "You should go to your fiancée, Finnick is bothering her." And then she walked off, back to her carriage.

Finnick arrived at the carriage shortly after. "That was fun," he said with a spark in his eyes as he hopped on.

Cora smiled in agreement and grabbed his hand, lacing their fingers together.

"What are you thinking about?" He asked, noticing a far-off look in her eyes.

The strawberry-blonde swung their connected hands, "I don't want to hide us anymore."

Finnick sighed. "I don't want to either. But Snow–"

"– will hurt Blue, or Crane, or Lyrie. I know." Finnick and Cora called their niece "Lyrie" instead of "Lyra." Most of the family did, actually. It was easier that way. Only Shelly and Hermit Marin referred to their granddaughter as "Lyra."

He squeezed her hand as the music began to play and their carriage started moving. "I love you."

"I love you too."