Chapter Twenty-three: The Dinner
A knock sounds on my door and I shoot out of the couch that I was lying down on in an instant, moving towards the door and opening it as quickly as I can. I've been lying down on the new couch that I bought - that arrived yesterday - for the past few hours as I waited for the last of my orders to arrive, so I assume that a bored looking delivery man will be at the door.
Instead, Mags is standing there with a small smile on her face. She tilts her head to the side, probably at the speed of me opening the door. "Expecting anyone?"
"Yeah, nothing important. Come on in." I move to the side, which allows her to walk into the house.
Her eyes flick around my entryway before she lets out a small grunt and moves to the right into my kitchen. "Finnick told me that you threw out all the furniture, but I didn't realize you were stripping the entire house."
"I can't stand the lifelessness of it." I respond, closing the door and walking over to meet her in the kitchen. "Painting is also one of my guilty pleasures, so I figured it would give me something to do if I got some paint and kind of stripped the house."
"People react differently to being given such a uniform house." She grunts out, glancing up at me, before setting a basket down on the counter. I frown at it, making her move forwards and reach into it, starting to pull out its contents. "He also told me you weren't eating."
"Oh, you didn't have to bring me anything." I start to refuse her but she shakes her head and I fall silent. My eyes flick to my kitchen counter as she pulls out a wide array of fruit: some fresh blueberries, raspberries, a few apples, and two heads of lettuce. "Do you have a garden?"
Mags nods.
That makes sense, actually, because I bet that was where Finnick got the fruit to cut up and put in his granola. I hum in understanding.
She drops her hands from the basket and turns to walk over to the adjoining dining room, taking a seat in one of the red chairs in it. I follow suit, sitting in one of the chairs a few seats away from her; I turn the chair sideways so I can easily face her, a small smile on my face as she speaks, her soft voice rumbling across the room towards me. "You can take fresh food from me anytime, but the rule is always that you have to come to me. Spare me a morning of company, and you get all the berries that you so desire."
"A fair trade." I remark, making her give me a gummy smile.
Some silence settles between us before she speaks again. "You look like you're doing better."
"Then when I first got here?" I ask for clarification and she nods, causing me to continue with a small shrug. "I mean, I guess so; I'm just busying myself to get my mind off of things."
Mags hums and then speaks; for her, someone who most people can't even understand, I'm surprised by the joking tone of her voice. "I heard about your dinner tonight."
"Yeah, Finnick told me that he was quite a cook so of course I had to take him up on the offer." Then, suddenly, a solution to the problem I was grappling with flies into my mind. I was honestly considering flaking tonight or sending Finnick some feeble excuse, solely because I don't want things to be weird between us, but if I ask Mags to come then it's a sure sign that I'm not into him - or that I see him as anything different than I see Mags, which is as a friend. I've known Mags for a while, and I bet she'll see through whatever fake excuse I try to sauce her way, so I decide to just be honest. "Why don't you come?"
"I didn't get an invite." Mags replies, her eyebrows rising.
I shift in my chair, a small smile flickering through my expression. "Well, I owe you a prolonged period of company for the fruit and I doubt it will be hard for Finnick to make double the food. I also don't want to give him the wrong impression."
An undignified snort leaves Mags.
"What?" Amusement fills my tone of voice and my smile widens.
She speaks. "You're trying to use me as a buffer."
"I am not. I just - okay, well maybe a little." I amend my words and she snorts again, shaking her head at me. "I just don't want him to get the wrong impression about us having dinner, oh ignore me; I overthink everything."
"Finnick seemed excited to be spending time with you. He enjoys your company. I'm not going to get in the way of that." Mags shakes her head at me again, clearly loving to hear this from me; I doubt she gets much of this drama in her life, or whatever drama I've fabricated in my mind as I overanalyze his use of the word "love."
"I just want to make it clear that he doesn't enjoy my company too much." I mutter.
Mags smiles and lets out a series of snorts. She speaks after a few moments. "I think you'll be fine."
"I shouldn't have said any-" I start to let out a groan.
The elderly woman cuts me off with a grand amount of brightness. "I've got a date with my cats tonight, anyways."
"You have cats?" I smile at that. "God, now I really have to come ove-"
I break off speaking as a knock sounds on my door. Mags stands almost immediately and heads back into the kitchen, grabbing her empty basket as she speaks to me. "I'll get out of your hair."
"Sorry; I'll try to come by soon. Whenever this food runs out, honestly. You're really forcing me to socialize here." I reply, earning myself another snort.
I stand as well and follow her moving figure to the door. She opens it, dips her head to the man standing in front of me, before turning and giving me a toothy smile. "Have fun tonight, Kai!"
"Yeah, yeah." I retort back good naturedly, fixing my attention quickly on the tired looking man in the front of my house and forcing Finnick to leave my mind; I won't allow myself to get insecure again until I'm actually going to head over there.
|||
"You actually kill me." Jewel's voice sounds through my phone and I can't help the chuckle that escapes me hearing the pure joy in her voice. "You're being romanced by the hottest guy that this entire country has and you tri-"
"I am not - there is no romance here." I cut her off, shaking my head, and shift my hands over to my other foot, shoving it into my boots before straightening my body. My hands return to the body of the phone and I sit back on the chair I'm sitting on - the one in the office that this house had set up. I turn my eyes out to the sunset that is starting to illuminate the lake in gorgeous shades of red and orange. "Why did I even tell you anything?"
"Because you love me. I can't believe you tried to get a like eighty year old woman to cockblock you." She retorts quickly, moving on. I greet her words with a small sigh, to which she laughs again. "You're actually adorable."
"I'm glad that you find happiness in my embarrassment." I say back, a small smile resting on my face. "At least one of us is enjoying this."
"I am deriving enough happiness from this for two people, so don't worry." Jewel fires back, making me chuckle at her words.
A brief moment of silence passes between us and then she speaks again. "God, I hate this district."
"Why?" I frown. "Did something happen?"
"No, it's just mind numbingly boring work." Jewel answers me. She hesitates and I can see that she wants to ask me something but after a second she speaks again and any trace of that thought process disappears. "You better call me tonight."
"Definitely not. I will call you tomorrow night at the same time that I've been calling you. This isn't that exciting of an event - you can wait a day." I respond, a bit unhappy that she won't ask me what I've gathered she wants to.
A small sigh leaves her. "C'mon, my life has no excitement; you may as well-"
"Nope. This is an exercise in your patience, honestly. How can I ever trust you on the streets if you can't wait like a night?" I quip back, amusement filtering into my voice.
"No need for all that; I've already gained your trust." Jewel remarks, moving on from her words as quickly as they come. "Okay, go get your ass over to Finnick's. I've got to get some dinner."
"Talk to you tomorrow." I end the call, hearing Jewel starting to mutter to herself about me not calling her tonight, and inhale deeply. I thought that telling Jewel would make me feel better about tonight, but it really doesn't; all her teasing did not help my nerves. It did make me realize that I've got to have a stronger resolve about not giving Finnick any of the wrong ideas.
With that thought in my mind, I stand and walk towards my door. I pull it open and hesitate before grabbing the set of keys that the mayor handed me a little less than a week ago. There isn't really any reason for me to lock my door, but the thought of what the basement of this house holds is what makes me turn and securely lock all three locks on my front door.
I move forwards, following the path out of my own house and then over to Finnick. As I do, my hand begins to swing my keys around loosely, sending a jangling sound throughout the empty path I'm walking on. I look down at the keys, trying to force any unwanted thoughts out of my mind, and it isn't until I turn and walk through Finnick's overgrown front yard that I look up.
The door is open and I see Finnick standing in the doorway watching me.
When my head lifts up and our eyes lock, he smiles and speaks. "I heard your keys from miles away."
"Oh, sorry." I immediately stop messing around with them and shove them into my pocket. I slow as I reach his much taller figure, smiling at him. "Hello."
"Hi, Kai." He responds with a small laugh, moving aside and holding the door open for me. "Please enter my humble restaurant."
I chuckle at his words and move forwards, passing him and walking over to the kitchen. As soon as I walk into his house, I can tell that this is going to be a good meal; an absolutely scrumptious aroma hits my nose, one that is earthy and full of herbs that I bet he got from Mags.
"I'm not done cooking yet, but almost." Finnick speaks from behind me.
I follow my nose to the kitchen and stop in front of his sets of burners, my eyes scanning the array of pots there. He's - oh, this'll be great; a part of me wants to give him shit for this cooking but, as I see the nicely cut fish filets practically steaming, I can't help but nod and look behind me. "I take back my lack of trust in your cooking."
"It looks that good?" He gives me a small smile and steps forwards, our shoulders brushing. "You haven't even tasted it yet."
Finnick moves to pick up the wooden spoon that he has in a large pot next to the fish and, as he stirs it, I look down into it, moving closer to him. It's some kind of rice, one that's yellowish hue reminds me of some of the things that my mother used to cook. This is - he has made me a very classic District Four meal, with a fish and flavored rice that is probably spicy, and it almost makes me emotional. I haven't eaten like this since my parents died.
"Damn, your look is just drooling-"
"I'm sorry! It smells really good." I turn away from the pot, hearing Finnick chuckle behind me, and move out of the kitchen to go and sit down on one of the stools on the opposite side of the counter. "I'll get out of your hair."
"You're not a bother." Finnick speaks as I sit down. His head is turned around to face me and our eyes are locked for a few moments before smiling as his attention returns to his pot where he stirs the rice methodically. "How was your day?"
"Pretty boring. I'm doing paint prep right now." I remark.
"You're doing what?" He asks, confusion clear in his voice.
I elaborate slightly, tilting my head to the side with amusement. "Prepping walls so that I can paint them."
There is a brief moment of hesitation before he glances at me. "You can't just paint the walls?"
"No! That's terrible for your walls." I retort instantly, some mock anger filing into my voice. "You've got to clean them first so all the dust and cobwebs that settles on them doesn't fuck with the paint's ability to adhere to the wall and then add a coat of primer so the paint actually lasts for a while and doesn't just instantly peel off."
"You're quite passionate about painting walls." Finnick doesn't speak for a moment before he responds to me with a wry sense of amusement in his voice. I watch as he sets down the wooden spoon and moves over to the pan. His broad shoulders hide from me exactly what he is doing, so I can't help the fact that my eyes sweep over his figure.
He's wearing pretty casual clothing, which makes me inwardly thank myself for ignoring Jewel's attempt to have me dress up for this. We've both got on pretty oversized pullovers and, while I have a pair of leggings on, he is wearing grey sweatpants. It's, well, given that the side of Finnick I've been the most exposed to is the stuck up and proper capitol man, it's almost funny to see him in such a casual outfit.
"Well, that's what my father did for a living." I remark back eventually. "We used to bond over painting walls."
"I think I knew that, actually." He turns and glances at me as he moves to his right and opens up one of the upper cabinets, his head turning around as soon as he's finished speaking.
"Really?" I frown. I suppose my familial life is pretty common knowledge for this District, but I am surprised that Finnick would acknowledge it and all the gossip that comes with knowing about me.
Finnick doesn't speak, taking two plates down from the cabinet and closing it. He moves back to the burners and speaks as a sizzling sound reaches me - along with it another burst of aromatic smells. "Yeah, I remember once when I was young I asked my mom why you were dangling off of a ladder."
I - what?
I blink twice before a small chuckle leaves me. "That's adorable."
His back stops moving for a brief moment before he continues cooking. "I try, I really do."
I was worried about this for nothing. I spent the entirety of today worrying that he was going to try to make a move or do something that I wasn't ready for but here we are, having a very natural conversation that doesn't seem like anything more than what it is at surface level.
A moment of silence settles between us before I speak again. "My dad took me out of school when I was like nine and I helped him with the family business."
"A lot of people do that." Finnick hums to my words. "I got into the games around the age when you would take up your family's trade, though."
"Yeah, you were so young." I fall silent for a moment before asking him a question. "What did your family do?"
Both of his parents are dead. They died when he was sixteen, two years after his games, and the entire district had a really public funeral. I was away on a job at the time, but I remember hearing about it at the market and how the Capitol put on a show solely because he was their darling; people pitied Finnick at that time, because it was clear that he was going through a lot of dark emotions and yet he still had to pretend and smile and wave to Capitol crowds who didn't understand his grief.
"Fishermen. They had a stall in the market, even after I won." Finnick hesitates and then answers me. I think he is the same as I am in how we tend to skirt around our family and talking about them, but he must not want to leave me being the only one sharing things about my childhood - that or I make him comfortable enough to talk about something that he avoids like the plague. I won't even entertain that last option, though.
Makes sense, given our district.
"Did they move in here with you?" I ask another question as he turns around, holding two steaming plates of food.
He shakes his head. "No, they were too proud. C'mon."
I stand and follow him into the dining room, which is a doorway away. It is a room that I didn't see the first time I was in this house, but it is decorated like everything in this house with wooden tones and muted blues. I speak as he sets the plates down. "God, this smells so good."
Finnick chuckles as he places both of the plates down on opposite sides of the table. He's already set it, with utensils and a glass of water and then ocean water next to the plate. It's surprisingly thoughtful, that he did all of this before I even got here.
"My lady." He says extravagantly, pulling out a chair and gesturing to it.
I snort and sit down, allowing him to push in the chair for me. "Thank you, good sir."
Finnick lets out a laugh and moves to the other side of the table, sitting down. His eyes flick over to meet mine and, for a moment, we look silently at each other. Then, I look down at the plate in front of me and sigh happily.
This is just such a meal. I can tell that I'm going to love it - that I'll probably ask for seconds or even thirds - just from the scent and the way that he cooked it, but I can't help but just look at it for a few moments.
"It's not art. You can touch it." Finnick says. I glance over to him as he puts a large scoop of rice into his mouth and starts to chew.
I duck my head back down to the plate and pick up the fork on the side, cut into the fish with it, and take a large bite. A flurry of flavors hit my mouth and I resist the urge to, to, well, to moan at this food. It's just so - it is like an explosion of everything about District Four, a district that I have avoided for years. I mean, me being here for around a week is one of the longest stays that I've made in this district in a while and I can tell that I'm going nowhere; this is actually home now, and this food reminds me of the benefits of this place.
I swallow and speak, forcing my mind off of this deep thoughts about the future. "I'm literally blown away, Finnick. This is just - the things I would do for this food."
"Alright, control yourself." He laughs, shaking his head at me, but I can see that, under his suave overcoat is a beaming sense of pride. "I figured you'd like it if I made something classic from the district, since you've had only capitol food recently."
"Not just recently. I haven't had home cooking in probably like four years." I remark casually, taking a bite of the rice with an appreciative sigh.
The man sitting across from me frowns at my words, and I realize instantly how depressing they sound. I speak up quickly. "Don't look at me like that."
"Like what?" He asks.
"In pity." I reply, smiling slightly. "I'm just a shitty cook, and I've been on my own for a while. I usually salt all the fish that I catch."
Finnick hesitates, like he wants to say something about my admission to not being - well, to being alone for four years. But, he sends back a joking retort. "God, I've always hated salted fish."
Salting fish is a process where the fish will stay edible for much longer than if you cook it. It's smart for someone like me who was rarely in this district, because I could stretch out one catch over months, but it makes the fish lose all of their natural flavors. Even cooked, salted fish is disgusting.
"It saves fish easily." I remark back. "Good for stretching out a catch over a long period of time."
He shakes his head at my words as I take another large bite of the fish. "Well, yeah, but it just tastes so, so salty."
A small snort leaves me. "You mean to tell me that salted fish tastes salty? That's just, I mean - wow."
My quip earns me a loud series of chuckles, ones that are coupled with a good natured reaction. "Oh, fuck off, Kai. I thought you'd be nice to me after this meal I've nicely cooked for you."
"Sorry, sorry. Please cook for me again." I backtrack instantly, smiling widely, and he chuckles again.
We go silent for a few moments, both of us tucking into our plates.
Finnick is the one who breaks the silence, glancing up over to me. He reaches for the ocean water as he does, taking a small sip of it. "Painting could be your skill, you know, if you needed one."
I tilt my head to the side, slightly confused. "My skill?"
"Yeah, like as a victor. I was talking to Clementine and Mags about that, actually, and they said you wouldn't need a skill because for some reason Snow said you were insane." He pauses, almost like he wants to ask me about that - a question that I don't know how I'd answer or even if I'd answer - but then he continues on with his previous point. "But if you needed one, you could choose painting."
"I suppose so. I've never painted for other people, though, at least not creatively." When I was younger, right up until my parents died, I used to find abandoned walls in the district and paint on them. I haven't since then, though - since I became Viper. I never really had the time; I was doing something else that I enjoyed. Not the killing part, well maybe the killing part a little, but more the moving seamlessly between the districts and gathering information - being the one in the no.
A thought occurs to me suddenly.
I bite it down as Finnick speaks and I look down at my plate. "But you're going to now?"
"It'll keep me sane, once I stop having to clean the walls." I remark back, nodding. "You don't have anything like that?"
"Not really. Fishing, I guess." He pauses, chewing, before continuing. "I've still got a boat on this lake and I go out sometimes, just to remember the feeling in my hair and the smell of the ocean. That's always what I do when I'm really going insane."
I hum to that. I don't think there's a single person in this district that doesn't love the ocean.
There are a few moments of silence between us before Finnick speaks again. "Can I ask you something kind of personal?"
I frown. "That's a worrying statement there, Finnick."
He bites his lip for a moment and my eyes flick down to it briefly before returning to his face as he speaks. "Yeah, I know, I just - I hear a lot of rumors about you, about your childhood and what happened to your parents. Someone was, I was at the market today and someone mentioned it to me and I just wanted to, I don't know, I just wanted the truth."
Oh.
I've got no problems telling him about my family, I suppose. It's not something I ever really share with people, but he's asking me in a moderately kind and apologetic way.
I hesitate and Finnick speaks again. "Just ignore me, it was out of tu-"
"No, I can tell you. It's been years; I can manage explaining it to you." I snort at the end of that sentence before growing serious. "I, well, what are the rumors that you're hearing? Is it the one about how I killed my entire family?"
"I - I - I mean, I don't think that's true, but-" He trails off, guilt flickering onto his face.
"It's not. My b - my brother did that." I remark, looking away from him to take a large bite of the fish. I don't speak again until I've swallowed. "There was a house fire, when he took me out of the house on a night walk. We came back, and they were nothing but ash. I - it took me years to find out that he was the one who did it, and exactly why."
"Why?" His voice is soft and hesitant, but laden with a strange amount of firmness.
"He had some problems." I tap my temple as I say that, glancing up to look at Finnick briefly before looking back down. It's easier to say these kinds of truths if I don't look at him. "Got in a fight with our parents the night before, one that I slept through actually, and then the next day he got his revenge."
Silence settles between us until Finnick asks another question. "What happened to him?"
He fell. That's what I told the authorities when I went and got them, screaming hysterically. We were walking, something that we often did together, and he fell off the side of a cliff. I couldn't see much, but his skull didn't look like a skull anymore - and when everyone got there and finally pulled his body up, he was pronounced dead at the scene.
"I pushed him down a cliff." I say. I've never said that out loud to anyone, well, to anyone living. He was the first person I killed - and the aftermath of his death was what gave me the confidence to become Viper. I managed to convince an entire district that I was this tragic orphan, a fourteen year old girl whose entire world came crashing down when her parents and then her brother died. "I've never told anyone that, you know."
I look up at Finnick. I don't see any disgust or worry or panic. No, instead, I see some understanding. He speaks after looking into my eyes for a few moments. "That's why you did so well in the Games. You've seen death before."
"I've caused death before. Swore to myself that I wouldn't do it again after Daniel, but that clearly didn't work out." That is a lie, obviously, but it will help sell this story. "It was a messy kill too. He was so much bigger and older than me so I nearly fell with him, but he - he told me that my parents' deaths were intentional and I just couldn't take it. They wouldn't even let me see his body before they cremated it because it was so mangled."
Finnick doesn't speak after that. He doesn't even eat, simply looking at me.
After a few seconds, I crack a rueful smile. "I bet that's even spicier than the rumors you've heard. I mean, people have come up to me and asked me if I had an illegitimate child with my brother or if my father was actually a woman. This district has a wild imagination."
A small snort bubbles out of his mouth and my smile widens slightly. "Someone went up to you and said that? Jesus."
"Well, your name is in most of the stuff talked about now. I haven't seen anyone, I guess, since I've been back so maybe that's changed, but it's always been about you." I scoop the last of my fish up into my mouth and chew it.
His eyebrows wiggle comically and I snort as I swallow. "The Capitol's wonderboy over here."
"The Capitol would freak if they knew you were this good of a cook." I reply, chuckling. "You should write a cookbook."
Finnick tilts his head back and laughs, shaking his head at me. "The fact that you think people who live in the Capitol would even know how to cook is absurd."
"That's not true." As soon as I say that, I know that I shouldn't have taken offense to that - but it's true. I have spent a lot of time in the Capitol, and the majority of people there, while they have insane fashion sense and are an elite group of people who don't understand the shit that people put up with in the districts, they do all have kitchens. There are elite restaurants in the Capitol, even of district delicacies, and many of them can cook quite well. "Most people in the Capitol know how to cook. Maybe not the top people, but I've been in enough apartments to see people have kitchens."
His brow furrows. "You've been to the Capitol?"
I nod. "Jewel and I snuck onto a train one year and stayed there for a month or so."
"And no one noticed?" His eyebrows rise.
I shrug. "No one in this district even knew where I lived. You think anyone would have noticed if I disappeared? Maybe the fish would."
Finnick chuckles at that, taking a bite of his fish, before he smiles over to me. "Well, people would definitely notice now."
"I doubt it." I remark lightly. "Everyone in the world either thinks I'm insane or a murderer, or both."
"Well, I'd notice." He says after a moment, his smile turning into more of a smirk.
My lips purse at that. He, that was a nice thing for him to say. It had a bit too much mischief infused into it that kind of ruined the sentiment and made me internally more nervous for what Finnick's going to try - if he is going to try anything - but that almost made me blush. Almost.
"Have you ever been to those district special restaurants in the Capitol?" I ask, changing the subject easily.
Finnick hesitates and then he barks out a short laugh. "Oh yeah, a woman took me to the district four one once. The fish was actually not too bad."
"I always liked them - at least the food. They're pretty problematic, like the districts are vacation spots or something, but they're actually kind of authentic." I say back, making a wry smile flicker across his face. "You know, I also snuck out into the Capitol before the Games."
He hesitates and then chuckles. "Really?"
"You were suspicious of me. Do you not remember? I told you I went to the roof but then you'd been to the roof already to check if I was up there." I remark. I snuck out to kill someone, but that's a trivial detail. "I just wanted to see it one last time. It's a beautiful place, in its own twisted way."
Finnick's eyes light up. "Oh my god! I remember that! You fucking - you - how in the hell did you manage to escape the building?"
"I knocked out a peacekeeper and wore their armor. Walked confidently out the front door." I say back, chuckling slightly. It feels good to tell him something like this, and it's funny how almost childishly surprised he is.
"You knocked out a peacekeeper? Jesus, Kai." Finnick chuckles, shaking his head at me. "Was it worth it?"
"I mean, no one punished me." I reply, shifting in my seat. "There was nothing that I lost from it."
"Really?" He frowns at that. "I assumed that was why Kelley asked to see you those couple of times."
"Nope. Those were, well, he was a bit of a creep." I quiet slightly, frowning. That's not one of my best lies, but it is something that will sedate Finnick's curiosity. Besides, it's not like Kelley is alive to tell the truth about those meetings. "It's so freeing, to do things like that - especially when you think you're going to die."
"I thought you were the one who didn't want us to talk about depressing things." Finnick says, causing me to hum. I didn't, and yet I'm saying that I thought I'd die. That's a lie too; I never thought I'd die. It's not a contest to kill children when you've been killing adults for your whole life. "Are you done?"
"Yeah. You?" He nods and stands, reaching over to grab my plate. I frown. "I can wash them-"
"What? You're my guest, why do you think I would let you do that?" Finnick says, walking back over to the kitchen. I hesitate before standing and grabbing our glasses, following him and setting them down on the counter.
I speak as I do that, turning to watch him set the plates down into his sink and glance over to me. Our eyes meet, and I resist the urge to blush at the peace and strange softness in them. "Well, you cooked. That's the general trade off; one cooks and one cleans."
"Well, that's not our trade-off. It's a treat for me, anyway. I never get to cook for other people anymore." His voice softens slightly as do my eyes as I digest the meaning of his words.
He seems surprisingly lonely. Actually, that's not too surprising. The Capitol forces him to do terrible things, but they also keep him at bay from other people. Other than Mags and a few other people in this District, I honestly doubt that he has many people who he would actually cook for. It's nice to think that he would trust me enough to let me in like this.
"Well, given the meal I just ate, I will be making you cook for me a lot more." I eventually reply, making him smile.
Finnick moves away from me and walks over to his fridge. He opens it and I move as well, walking over to sit down on one of his stools in the kitchen. I glance over to the clock he has on the wall as well and frown at it, pausing from sitting down. I've been here for a fair amount of time already, and I guess this is as good a time as any to leave. "I sho-"
Finnick speaks at the same time as me, turning around with a bottle of ocean water. "Want - oh, you go ahead."
My eyes flick down to the alcohol before returning to his face. "I should go."
He frowns immediately. His hand holding the bottle drops to his side a bit defeated. "You don't have to."
"No, it's moderately late. I can, um, walk me out?" I tilt my head to the side.
He hesitates, looking at me for a long moment, before nodding and walking towards me. He passes the counter I am standing right in front of and sets down the bottle on it before walking towards his door. I follow him quickly, and some silence settles between us even as we reach the door.
Finnick stops in the doorway, moving to the side slightly, and I pass him. Our shoulders brush, but I ignore that as our gazes meet. I realize that I should just walk away now, but I can't help but stop on his stoop. We are standing with a fair amount of distance between us, but I can feel some tension building as we stare at each other.
I see his eyes flash with something undecipherable and he takes a small step towards me. The distance between us is starting to close, and in a few moments he could very easily bend down and capture my lips with his. "You want me to walk you all the way back?"
"No, I'll be able to manage on my own. This was, this was fun." I say back, my voice strangely low. I don't - I don't want to rustle the silent unspoken meaning between us. I don't know what it is, but as he takes another step towards me - albeit a small one - alarm rushes into my mind, as do a flurry of other things.
Jewel would tell me not to be an idiot, that if Finnick fucking Odair slowly nears you and his eyes flick down to your lips, you don't move away. But, she's not the only thing that enters my mind. My brother does briefly, his snarling face and dead eyes telling me silently that he can't be doing this because he actually likes me. I mean - it's Finnick. He could have anyone in any district. Maybe he's still curious about why Kelley talked to me or what exactly made Snow pronounce me insane and yet let me live here peacefully. Or, maybe he just knows what kind of effect he has on people. James' face flickers into my face also, yet another example of what happens when I get too attached to people.
Finnick glances down at my lips again and I just can't help it. My emotions boil over, all of that shit inside telling me that I'm reading things wrong and that I can't allow him to do something like this, and my mouth speaks on its own accord. "Thank you, Finnick, really. You're turning into a good friend, I think."
Stupid, stupid, stupid.
He's nice, and he's funny, and he is extraordinarily handsome. There is not a single reason for me to support his signs and do what I know he wants to - what I want to do also.
Finnick hesitates and then frowns. He takes a small step away from me, giving me a bit more space, and a low chuckle escapes him.
I frown slightly. "What?"
"Nothing. I just, I thought, never mind." He waves his arm in the air dismissively. "Ignore me."
"What, did you - oh." I quiet for a moment before smiling wryly. "Did you think that me telling you about my family was a sign I was into you?"
It's pitch dark outside so, save for the light coming from the partially open door behind Finnick, I can't see much of anything. Still, though, there is more than enough light to see the embarrassment that flies into his face. He opens his mouth, like he wants to defend himself, before closing it and glancing away from my eyes.
I chuckle, hating how light and amused my voice sounds after. It's times like these where I wish it wasn't so easy for me to mask what I was really feeling - to make Finnick believe anything that I say. "I'll see you around, Finnick."
I turn and leave him there, the tips of his ears going red. A few steps into his garden, I hear a few chuckles and then his door closes, leaving me in the pitch black of night with my own idiotic fucking mind and thoughts. I'm - god, I'm going to regret that for a while.