❝if a victor is considered desirable, the president gives them as a reward or allows other people to buy them for an exorbitant amount of money. if you refuse, he kills someone you love. so you do it.❞
ontari nightfall wants revenge after seven year...
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ONTARI FEELS THE darkness thrumming in her veins. It dances through the sky, the jungle, even the ocean, casting ominous shadows over the waves as they churn, sloshing over the abandoned tribute pedestals. It even worms its way into her heart. Tonight is the night that their plan goes into effect. She isn't sure at what point the District Thirteen hovercrafts will show up. Tomorrow after the wave hits?
Of course, whenever it is, this isn't where the journey ends— there will be repercussions that they will have to face when this is over. If they succeed — and they will, she forces herself to believe — she doesn't know what will happen. There's still the matter of doing something about Snow. Ontari might even volunteer to end his life herself when the time comes. Or maybe, she'll gather up the rest of the remaining tributes and allow them to take a shot at him any way they'd like, going down the line, each person giving him a mere taste of the pain he's caused them. But who would land the final blow? Who deserves it the most, out of all of them?
A knuckle prodding her shoulder drags her out of her contemplation of Snow's demise. A hand presents a palmful of oysters and a few pieces of bread. Ontari's eyes travel up the person's arm to see Finnick's curious gaze watching her, likely wondering what kind of daze she'd been trapped in. Maybe she'll tell him once they escape this hellhole and they'll both trade ideas of Snow's death back and forth. But for now, they're surrounded by hundreds of cameras and microphones, and Ontari still has family to protect. Admitting she'd been fantasizing about killing the President is a surefire way for them to be killed. Starting with Hestia.
Once she accepts his offering of food, Finnick plops down beside her with a sigh. "You ready for tonight?"
Ontari toys with one of the rolls. "Yeah. As ready as I'll ever be, I suppose."
"Me too."
Dusk settles, smothering the pale sky with more streaks of gray and black. The lines in Finnick's face harshen as a result. For the first time, she can see just how tired he is. These Games have not only taken a toll on them physically, but mentally as well. And he's seemed spaced-out since the attack by the jabberjays. If he'd heard her being tortured, what kind of mind games have been lurking around in his brain?
"Like what you see?" he questions with a wry smirk at his lame joke. But then the grin widens, turns into something sadly familiar as he turns to face her with a twinkle in his eyes that she's seen a million times.
Ontari is struck with the realization that he has put his mask back on. Her heart aches, yearning to see the real Finnick beneath the persona that he's putting on for the cameras. She's sure that they're focused on them— the two lovers who'd confessed just a day before the Games, who'd had such little time together.
