Determined Hearts | F. Odair

ix. all eternity

Sitting at the bar in the lobby, Glade downed her glass of whiskey. The Quarter Quell wasn't far away. Guilt stirred in her stomach as she and Finnick were barely on speaking terms after their shared moment in her room. Every time she tried speaking to him, words were lost on her and all she could do was stare at his retreating figure. It pained her for everything to be falling apart between them, especially in the time she needed him most.

Gloss took a seat beside her. "I know it's not my place to say this," he said gruffly, "but it's a slippery slope. One drink becomes two, then next thing you know you're dead from alcohol poisoning."

She shook her head and stifled a laugh. Something about him being the one lecturing her amused her to no end. "It's just one drink," she defended, lying through her teeth. He didn't need to know. She wasn't his friend. She barely talked to him even before everything that happened. "Talisa was enough for me to never want a drink in my life."

"That's what she said about Haymitch and Chaff. She didn't want to be like them, and look where that got her." His eyes filled with a hurt she had become familiar with herself. He lost the love of his life twice. Once from her pubically dramatized drug addiction. The second time was permanent. A scar for those who loved her, and a warning to all who used alcohol as an escape. "Six feet under."

The image came back to her: Talisa lifelessly laying on her stained couch with bottle of liquor surrounding her. It made the fact that she had five glasses of whiskey hard to bear. Talisa wouldn't have wanted her to drown her feelings in liquor. She'd have wanted her to talk things out with someone who wouldn't judge her.

Glancing at him in the corner of her eye, she debated whether she should have the conversation with him. Gloss had been in her position before with Talisa. He could have an insight on it she'd never thought about. One that could allow her to be with the love of her life. One that could give her hope they could share the last moments of their lives exploring the passion they had for one another.

Glade stared at the wedding band on his finger. "Do you ever regret that you didn't marry her when you had the chance?" she asked softly. "Do think you should have married her as soon as you realized the media learned about her?"

He twisted the wedding band instinctively. His eyes glossed over as if he was worlds away, in one where Talisa was by his side and his wife. Glade watched him closely, hanging on for his answer. She wanted to know if it would have been worth it, if Talisa was worth the consequences for him. She wanted Finnick and was looking for every single reason that she shouldn't have him. Gloss was the only one who could give her that, the only person Snow had put in a similar situation.

He was silent and placed his hand on her arm. The sadness written deep in his eyes and his stoic expression was all she needed. Her world fell apart, crashing down around her. It tumbled down like it was stone, breaking as if she'd walked on glass. She let out a shallow breath and a sorrowful laugh escaped. Glade gazed down at her empty glass.

"You can't live in the past."

"I'm not living in the past," she croaked out. Her chest ached as her words slurred. "Why don't I get to be happy? Cecelia and Eve have families. Peeta has Katniss. My gran had my grandpa. You at least got a wife. Why don't I get him?"

It didn't take a genius to realize she was talking about Finnick. Gloss wrapped his arm around her shoulders and guided her back to the elevator. She was a stumbling, blubbering mess. "You have him for now," he tried consoling her. "He's alive. He's breathing. That's something I don't even have."

"Not in the way I want to have him." She had never admitted her affections for Finnick aloud until that moment. Always too afraid that one wrong move or saying would lead to the end of her family, she kept every feeling for him under lock and key. Never to be spoken, and only to be shown through her eyes and her actions when they were alone.