𝐅𝐋𝐀𝐌𝐄𝐒 ❦ The Hunger Games Sequel

eighteen

☆ CHAPTER FORTY-TWO! ☆
042. what comes after

|| SKINNY LOVE ||
❝I told you to be
patient, I told you
to be fine, I told
you to be balanced,
I told you to be kind.❞

➳➳

HE WAS INCONSOLABLE. He had failed her.

While the thundering shakes of chaos rained on the forgotten District from above, he found himself numb to the jolts. In his bed (that sunk to the ground due to the amount of weight that was being concentrated on such a small area of the mattress) he barely felt the fabric on his clothes from his hands that were securely wrapped around his legs. He couldn't hear the whines of babies a couple rows down, or the gentle soothing of his fellow Victor who'd been lucky enough to imagine his situation as a what if. While Prim was safetly tucked under her arm, Lillian was gone.

She was dead in his eyes, and her soul weighed heavier than any that he'd killed before.

If he'd only waited a little longer to leave the ceferteria- or held on tighter as the whole of Thirteen decended the same set of metal stairs. If he'd gone back to get them both; if Gale hadn't tried to be the hero once more by restraining him alongside one other man that he'd never had the displeasure of meeting. His steps could've been smaller, and his willpower stronger, to ensure that another Titan wasn't entirely lost to him.

But he wasn't any of those things, and he hadn't done things that way. He'd made his choices, and it lead to him watching the Everdeen sisters with a jealousy he would never speak aloud.

He was sure Lorna would break if she knew. If she wasn't already, then man was entirely certain the last morsel of sanity would leak from her at the knowledge that her remaining family passed on to the other side. Perhaps she'd join her; selfishly, it was the first time Finnick was grateful for the horrors that the Capitol has placed on Lorna Titan. Even more selfishly, it seemed like the only thing that could bring a spark of anything back to the man was the woman that plagued his every thought. He wished so powerfully that she would be next to him with a comforting hand, that it almost erased the relationship Lorna and the deceased had themselves.

Was that selfish too? It was her sister after all, yet he had the audacity to wish that she was there for him. He could imagine the irony of it all after what he'd accused the girl of before the 75th Games; it seemed like it was in the most selfish moments when they called to each other the most.

"I'm sorry Finnick." Katniss' voice was weak as she whispered, with Primrose asleep against her shoulder.

When he glanced her way, her green eyes reeked of a sympathy he's seen only once before. It was a stark reminder of where this feeling had rooted from- and when he last felt like the small child he was, incapable of saving anybody but himself.