chapter 8 - Bewitched

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"the flames engulf my body , and I kiss him back"

Every nerve in my body feels electric, adrenaline seeps through my veins, as Finnick and I kiss on the roof of the Tribute Centre. We clutch each other tightly , not letting the other person go. My heart feels like it's going to burst out of my chest as his lips glide over mine , fitting perfectly into place. He pulls away , and I stare up at him.

"Sorry," he whispers, "I should of asked."

I stand on my tiptoes and grab the back of his neck.

"Shut up, Finnick." I say , and he swoops his head down to mine again, connecting our lips in a heated kiss, less timid than the first.

Finnick's lips are soft on my own , like nothing I've ever felt. His hands rest on my waist , pulling me closer to him, and I hold his forearms firmly, locking him in place. It's a lot of panting and deep breaths , desperate to have contact with each other's skin. The cold breeze goes unnoticed, my whole body a blazing fire of passion.

Finnick leans me up against the wall on the roof, our sighs drifting off into the sounds of the parties bellow. His lips move from my own to the skin of my jaw , and an embarrassing groan escapes my throat.

"Well that's new." he mumbles into the shell of my ear, and a shiver rolls down my spine. I cringe, feeling self conscious, when Finnick's face is in front of mine again. "And encouraging."

His arms snake their way around my legs.

"Jump." He sighs into the base of my throat.

He hoists me up , and I wrap my legs around him.

He carries me to the garden , where we'd sat just hours ago. The previously orange sky replaced by tiny stars and lights from the streets. The grass creates a soft cushion as Finnick lays me down on my back.

He hovers above me , swiping away hairs that have fallen across my forehead. He holds my cheek in his hands.

He leans his head down to my collar bones, exposed by the cotton vest. "You're," up to my jaw. "So," he reaches my lips. "Beautiful."

I go crimson at the compliment, deeming it ridiculous for anything to be more beautiful than the bronze haired victor that hovers over me so gracefully. I trace his cheekbone with my thumb and gaze into his eyes; his usually ocean blue eyes now a dark navy.

I twist our bodies , so that now I'm the one hovering over him, and there's playful surprise evident on his face.

"No one compares to you, Finnick Odiar." I whisper , my nose touching his.

And I kiss him hard, letting the flames spread from my body to his.

***

"What's your favourite colour?"

We lay on Finnick's bed, him on top of the covers and me under them, letting the time roll by until I need to sleep. Letting him distract me from the thoughts of tomorrow. His arm rests comfortably on my shoulder , tracing patterns into the skin, and my head rests on his. I listen to the rise and fall of his chest, playing idly with the fingers on his free hand.

"Orange." I whisper into the darkness that shrouds the room.

"What , like bright orange? Like Ivara's lipstick?" he asks.

I laugh , thinking of my escorts terrible make up.

"No. Like the sunset we saw today. Peachy orange. What's your's?"

He hums in thought.

"Blue." he says. "Like your eyes."

I scoff and push his face playfully.

𝐌𝐞𝐦𝐨𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐬; 𝐅𝐢𝐧𝐧𝐢𝐜𝐤 𝐎𝐝𝐚𝐢𝐫.Where stories live. Discover now