unforgivable ➸ finnick odair

T W E N T Y O N E

My name is Electra May Reine. I - well, you already know.

Life has been good so far. Finnick has backed off since our deal. It's pretty clear that I hate his guts. Maybe he finally got the memo. Even if he has nice eyes.

Desiree and Sean haven't talked to me much about my Victor's Interview. Just said to be myself. I can do that. But I don't want to watch the games again. I've had enough for this lifetime, I think. But the Capitol will punish me if I don't. It's really stupid. I already lived in it once. I don't want to re-live it again.

And then after 6 months I'll have to do my Victory Tour. It's a way for the Capitol to keep the Games fresh in people's minds. I'll be forced to tour Panem and read out speeches at every new District. Not to mention meeting the tributes' families. Though it'll be nice to meet Annie, Riley and Diana. Ocean's cousin, Rhys' sister and Everly's sister. Maybe a bit awkward though.

...

Titania's about to come in and give me my dress. My prep team just made me up for the interview, crying all the time. I don't know why they're crying. Maybe in happiness; after all, their tribute did survive the games. Hopefully Titania doesn't cry all over me.

My prep team fixed my hair into a braid that sits on my right shoulder. It looks really good, even if I'm not too fond of braids. They also put a fake pink lily in my hair. My locket is still nice and snug around my neck. It's a bit worn and faded, though. I refused to take it off. There's also faint pink blush on my cheeks, mascara and glittery pink lipgloss, and toeless pink heels on my feet. There's a lot of pink. I don't know why.

Titania seems to be coming know. See you soon.

---

"Hey Titania," I smiled in greeting as my still normal-looking stylist walked through the polished mahogany door that separated me and the hallway leading up to the stage where the pre-games interviews had taken place. Everything had come full circle.

"Congratulations, El," she smiled, her teeth still pearly white and her lips still coated in blood red lipstick. In her hands was a grey bag that held my interview dress, and it was notably smaller than the one she had held for the pre-games interview. Still grinning at my inquisitive stare, she handed me the bag, which I promptly ripped open and pulled the dress out of.

"Pink. Just my luck," I sighed as I shed the thin robe I had been wearing and slipped into the dress. It was a bit lighter than the pink colour of my shoes, but sparkles were scattered across the lower half of the skirt and the colour faded slightly at the end of the dress. The floaty silk fabric felt cool and smooth against my skin, and reached my knees. The dress had no straps, unless you counted the thin strip of fabric that was attached to the top of the dress and encircled my body just below my shoulders. 

"You don't like pink?" Titania asked, raising a perfectly arched eyebrow. I shook my head and made a face at her, flattening the skirt of the dress as I rose to my feet and eyed myself in the full-length mirror across from me. I had predictably lost quite a bit of weight in the arena, and despite my prep team's best efforts I could still see the faint outline of the dark circles that were a result of countless sleepless nights. There was also a weary, jaded glint in my dull brown eyes that I suspected would never leave, one of the last remaining imprints of the 68th Hunger Games - all my battle scars that been erased using the cosmetic prowess of the Capitol doctors.

"I just don't think it looks good on me," I said, glancing away. I left the fact that it had been Breeze's favourite colour unsaid, but my behaviour seemed to say what my mouth didn't. Titania's gaze softened as she laid a reassuring  hand on my shoulder.