𝐚𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲𝐥𝐥𝐢𝐬 [𝘧𝘪𝘯𝘯𝘪𝘤𝘬 𝘰𝘥𝘢𝘪𝘳]

𝐯

𝐀 𝐅𝐑𝐄𝐄 𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐋𝐃 ♜ 𝐚𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲𝐥𝐥𝐢𝐬

          Amaryllis had her eyes trained on the outside world as it passed in a flash. She wasn't really watching; typically, she would take in every single detail she could. The colours of each district stood out the most, but in that moment where she had her legs curled under her bum and chin resting on her palm, none of the outside world mattered. She couldn't stop thinking about the deal. Marriage was something to be earned, it was a commitment based on the foundations of trust and most importantly love. Amaryllis couldn't help but reflect on her relationship with Finnick.

Did she trust him? Yes, with her life.

Did she love him? Definitely, whether she could decipher what kind it didn't matter.

And still, with all of which she valued in marriage marked with a tick on her checklist, she couldn't help but feel it was completely wrong and out of place.

She wanted him to love her, she was desperate for it. His caring nature no longer satisfied her, she wanted a fiery inferno of passion and lust. She wanted to memorise the way his calloused hands would grip her thighs, the patterns his fingers trace, but most of all she wanted the breathless confessions of "I love you".

          Before her train of thought could dive any deeper through her subconscious, a hiss released from the other side of the room. She didn't jolt nor did she look in the direction of the doorway. Instead she sighed and continued to stare out the window at nothing in particular. Her eyes were stone grey, just like the colour of most of her district, usually they were a stabbing shade of blue. The dullness in her iris reflected exactly how she felt; her melancholy thoughts were consuming not only her mind, but her physical being too. Their manufactured relationship was built from nothing for the benefit of others.

Finnick took careful steps towards her, his shoes clicked against the metal floor of the carriage. He'd broken away from his district escort and found her in the very last carriage alone but comforted by a thick layer of blankets.

He took a seat beside her, tucked his legs up and pulled half of the blanket over his legs. For a moment he watched what she was watching, but he actually observed the yellowing tree leaves. However once that second passed, he turned to look at Amaryllis. She was wallowing in some sort of emotion.

          "Cheer up buttercup," he smiled and tilted her chin so that their eyes met; he wanted to frown at the lifeless colour, but he kept it to himself.

Ami instantly became lost in the swirl of ocean tones. She knew she had a lust for him she couldn't explain. It had always been present. But here, on the train, alone and isolated from the prying fingers and peeping eyes, she wanted nothing more than to curl her fingers around his knitted sweater and smash his lips to her own. And it seemed, as if she were watching the television in her home, that for a second they were engaged in a passionate kiss.

Then she felt cold air flush over her lips. She closed her eyes tightly and they fluttered open with the exhale of her breath. There he was, sitting three inches from her, his lips distant from hers.

          "I'm fine," Ami responded and offered a tight-lipped smile. Finnick didn't believe one second of it, she knew that he wouldn't, her attempt was pointless and not worth the effort; yet out of habit she masked her emotions.

          "C'mere," his arms were outstretched for her. Ami glanced at them and the way his sleeves were a little too tight for his biceps, and if you'd blinked you would have missed her wandering eye. "You know I'm doing this for you and Bella."