The ruins of what could've been.
Two cups of tea met Mags and Alivia, still steaming from the kettle Finnick had left for them. It smelled like conversation; Alivia knew it was an invitation.
It was a little after dinner and sleep was slowly calling her. But she and Mags hadn't talked in a while, and one couldn't ignore the little voice at the back of her head warning that she didn't have much time left with her.
"How was today? You came back all flustered."
"Oh." Alivia said. "It was fine. Just lots of heavy work."
Mags arched an eyebrow, a little smirk appearing on her face. Alivia sighed, plopping two sugar cubes into her tea, bracing herself to tell the old lady what happened.
The morning started with odd calmness, breakfast with Mags and a few laps around the beach. It was unexpected as all things with Finnick were.
"So, tell me about you," Finnick said way too casual over his lunch.
Getting caught off guard, Alivia stopped her fork midway as her mind went blank. A sudden sensation of panic rose up on her as she managed to say,"Like what?"
"Anything, I feel like we barely know each other."
She pressed her lips in a thin line, actually debating whether or not she should say anything. It would had been easier to refuse if Finnick hadn't been staring at her.
"Right. So, I'm twenty one," she started clumsily.
Finnick chuckled. "Well, yeah, I know that."
She huffed, fiddling with her fork. "I wasn't actually born in district 4. I know it's not supposed to be allowed but they thought my dad would be of more use at the sea than at a farm so they moved us here. Or at least that's what my mom used to say..."
Alivia forced herself to pause once she noticed she started rambling, feeling his gaze heavy on her. Deciding to cut short the conversation, she threw a couple random facts and hoped it was enough.
"I'm allergic to peas," Finnick snorted at the addition, "and Mags is my best friend."
Finnick kept silent, as if to encourage her to keep going. Staring like he wanted to—no, expected to learn something shocking about her. It was truly a shame that not a single thing came to mind.
Situations like this weren't a common thing to Alivia but to be fair, she kept her social interaction minimal.
She put her fork down, only to pick it up again. "Maybe you should just ask me what you want to know."
"What's your favorite color?"
The serious glare that Alivia shot at Finnick was received with a cheeky smile. He could be so insolent sometimes. Alongside a silent sigh, she said, "White. Yours?"
"White as well," he answered amused. "Look! We have something in common already."
Finnick could not possibly believe they could build up a conversation with those sort of silly questions.
"How come you never hang out with the other victors?"
If she kept sighing she was going to be out of breath soon. "It's complicated."
"You don't like other victors," Mags commented.
"Yeah, but I didn't felt like explaining that they don't like me either. It was very awkward," Alivia stressed, "taking into account that some of those people are his friends."
Mags clicked her tongue in disagreement, as if she knew otherwise.
Besides, their lifestyle was something she couldn't get quite used to. Not the economic stability and the food, of course. It was nice to know that a meal would never lack on her table and she had a room over her head; but the partying, the interlinking with each other...she didn't know how to do that and she wasn't sure she wanted to.
"I rather hang out with Mags," she said instead.
"Cheers to that," he raised his fork, "but not all of them are that bad, once you get over their narcissistic tendencies and, you know, overlook the murder."
She snorted. "Where would that leave you?"
Alivia meant to say us, not trying to ignore the fact that she was a victor as well. Finnick played the part nevertheless and teased. "I guess you'll have to find out."
Along came a smile that made his eyes glint with the sunlight. He had the most precious eyes she'd ever seen. The color of a pretty gemstone, the kind of gem Alivia only saw at the Capitol, dangling from wealthy people's necks. Elegant and just beautiful.
She couldn't help but wonder what those eyes hid, or rather, what kept him up at night? As get together as Finnick seemed to be, she knew it was not that easy when it came to victors. That included the ones she didn't fancy enough.
Alivia was never the same. It felt like she lived in the ruins of what could've been. Grief for something she never lived.
Would such pretty eyes like Finnick's hide something like that? A thought that Alivia decided to skip altogether. Mags had seen her at her worst, but she didn't worry about that, it was perhaps that the time seemed inadequate.
"Alivia, I want to ask you something and I would appreciate it if you were completely honest," he paused dramatically. "Do you like me?"
Alivia's heart definitely skipped a beat.
"What?"
"Yes. Do you think I'm nice to hang around?"
Alivia understood then that Finnick didn't meant like like. "Yeah, I think you are alright."
"I thought you didn't like me," he said sincerely.
"Why would you think that?"
"Well, you don't exactly seem to enjoy yourself when I'm around. In fact, I've seen you leave when I come home."
"I like you just fine. I mean— I just...Mags likes having you around."
"She likes having you around, too."
"But I'm always here. She doesn't get to miss me like she does with you, you know, when you leave to the Capitol."
Finnick seemed to believe that, partly because it wasn't completely a lie. He hummed, satisfied.
"I'm glad you don't secretly hate me 'cause otherwise this would be awkward."
Alivia wouldn't dig too deep on the list of secret feelings she did have for Finnick, she smiled instead.
"What's not to like?" She added weakly as she focused on crushing all her food with her fork.
It seemed like Finnick wanted to ask so much more but he was holding back. Alivia was a little bit naive in that aspect, but she would tell him everything she knew, every secret her heart held onto. But if she was honest with herself, she had no secrets worth his time.
"Oh, child! That was the perfect moment to profess your love!"
"Mags, are you insane?" She held a hand up. "Don't answer that. There was no way I was going to tell him how I feel. I don't even know what I feel."
Soft eyes watched Alivia with endearment, Mags understood.
On the other side of the table, Finnick could practically hear Alivia thinking as the silence grew between them. Distaste could be easily read from her scrunched up nose. It almost felt like intrusion when he grabbed a sweet from his plate and offered, "A cherry for your thoughts?"
Finnick's dimple greeted her, making his smile even more ravishing. She ducked her head as if to hide something. You don't want to waste your cherry on that, she thought.
"How about," she started, "you grab mine and tell me yours instead?"
He looked at her through narrowed eyes. "Are you flirting with me?"
Alivia dropped the cherry, scandalized, but Finnick easily caught it midair. He looked amused with the loud "No" he received, followed by a pretty blush and stuttering.
"I'm just messing with you," he chuckled as he popped the cherry into his mouth. "Don't look so offended."
Mags laughed freely while Alivia kept her red face in between her hands, just from retelling what had happened.
Their exchange was unsteady, or at least, that was what Alivia kept thinking. Perhaps the problem came from all the thinking trying to keep up a pace she would simply not match. They were not friends but Finnick kept acting like they were.
Isn't that what you want? she asked herself. No. It wasn't. It shouldn't. She had to remember "functional and safe".
"Whatever," she tried to dismiss it. "We talked about other things too."
With her face facing his back, she dared to say, "I don't want to fight anyone." Finnick turned around, curious. "I mean, Mags doesn't really train us to be fighters. So I'm fine with just learning how to survive—again."
Mags never trained her kids to be killers. They were taught to overcome adversity. That was the main reason some people refused to acknowledge District 4 tributes as careers; cause more often than not they chose survival over giving a show. Alivia failed to see the downside to that. Herself didn't carry a weapon to kill, just to defend herself. That's the reason her set was curved, only to be used in situations of immediate and close enough danger.
It was quite unbelievable how she managed to survive. Alivia was never seen as a threat because she wasn't. She'd done poorly in her personal assessment but she attracted viewers. Everyone wanted to know what would happen to the poor little girl who wanted to save her mother.
"Survival might involve fighting. Are you okay with killing someone?"
"Yes," she lied. "If necessary."
"So, you just want to learn how to defend yourself." She nodded.
"I'm sorry if that messes up your strategy."
"No, not at all. I'm glad you told me."
"You lied." Mags stated.
"Is it bad that I did?"
"It depends on why you did it."
"Alright," he clapped. "Let's start with something simple. Basic defense."
An echo was caused in the almost empty room and in Alivia's mind as she stayed pensive of what happened afterwards, trying to find a reason why.
Mags noticed Alivia's scrunched up nose and encouraged her to keep going, hoping she would not entangle herself overthinking. "Tell me about that heavy work you mentioned."
Snapping out of thought, too shaken to even dwell on Mags' suggestive tone, Alivia mumbled, "We went through the basics, you know. Center of gravity, weak points... he told me to follow his lead."
And Alivia did. She followed every single step Finnick took and yet their movements were far from similar. It was a marked difference and Finnick noticed it too, he brushed it off as a lack of practice but Alivia knew it wasn't about experience; it was about confidence. Alivia lacked the confidence that moved Finnick around.
With a sigh, Alivia paused and wailed a little bit. "Oh Mags, then something so embarrassing happened."
Mags had the nerve to look excited, Alivia loved her too much so she decided to ignore that.
Finnick went to place himself behind Alivia and when she tried to turn so they could face each other, she was instructed to keep looking forward.
"Think of this scenario. No weapons, just your bare hands to defend yourself from someone unexpected."
He was far too close she could smell him. She hummed to herself as a wave of sweetness hit her. Like honey, rich and mellow. It really came to no surprise the fact that Finnick carried that kind of scent around him.
Once Finnick seemed to pick up on the reaction of the girl, he asked, "What?"
Her heart skipped a beat or two.
"Nothing, you just smell nice."
He raised an eyebrow playfully. "Oh, yeah? What do I smell like?"
Alivia struggled to form a coherent thought. Her face was tingling so much she was sure she was blushing, or probably passing out of embarrassment, one of the two.
"You know, like—like something sweet."
"Huh," Finnick seemed pleased with the answer for some reason. "Let's hope that doesn't distract you so much."
She was glad they weren't facing each other. Then, Finnicks arm ghosted the flesh around her neck. "What would you do if someone attacked you like this?"
Cry, probably. She thought.
"Show me," he said and caused her goosebumps. "I want to see how far you can go but if you need to stop don't doubt to tell me."
Alivia gulped down but nodded. Her heart started accelerating. "Ok."
She felt the change in Finnick's grip. Her fight or flight activated right away when his hand moved a little higher to her neck. Alivia was scared for a full second she slammed his body into the matt. He let out a grunt and she was positive she slammed the air out of him. She cursed out loud, ignoring the slight tremble on her hands.
Meanwhile Finnick giggled, even when he hadn't fully caught his breath. "Wow," he mouthed.
"Are you okay?" Alivia urged.
"I didn't expect a full body throw, but I think is safe to say you know what you are doing."
Mags started laughing again.
"Not only did I smelled him, I slammed him into the floor," she muttered with her hands on her face.
"That's a way to shake some sense into my boy," Mags giggled. "What happened afterwards?"
A single sentence came to mind, proof of Finnick's commitment.
"Let's do it again."