Finnick Odair x reader

Knives

The months passed, quickly yet slowly. It felt like a fever dream - a boring one at that.

I tried to get on with things as normal - often having visits from Louisa and Carlos. I liked to think that they understood part of what I was feeling, though I'm sure it's just in their job description.

It was around less than a month until the quarter quell. I couldn't begin to imagine the festivities going on in the capitol. Parties, celebrations, gossip - the whole lot.

President Snow is expected to announce the rules of the quarter quell around 2 weeks before the games.

The viewing is mandatory and is streamed on the big screen in the square outside the justice building, as well as televisions in the victors' houses.

We were coming up to the announcement soon - I hadn't the faintest idea of what they could plan for the Quell.

I felt a flood of dread for the future tributes this year.

Everyone overlooked the victors from our district - well, I did. Their victory just seemed like their job and as if it were normal. Now after having been in the games I cant imagine another person going in for a first time.

And whilst the innocent people fight to death to see their families again, to hang on until it rains for water to drink, to think about eating another tribute as their last hope, the capitol are watching it to pass their time. They are watching it on television as something to do.

How has no one questioned it? I have no idea. I cant even imagine to outcome if the roles were switched and the capitol had to go into a arena.

———————————————————————

My mother sent me into town early that morning, requesting oil and bread.

I went into the local market that was almost always jam-packed with people.

I had known the woman working in the bread stall since I was young, she was old and widowed and was either extremely likeable to some or detestable by others.

She was so chatty and had no filter that you really had to have some tolerance to get on with her.

"Hi Patty, how are you?" Most people called her Patty, short for Patricia.

"I'd be a lot bloody better if everyone stopped buying the sourdough bread - I'll tell you - I made a bucket load of it yesterday and I only have one loaf left."

I laughed at her response, it was a typical one.

"So don't you dare go asking for some because I'll be sure to sneak some poison into it."

"Don't worry, I'll be sure to get something else." I started. "Could I have-"

My voice was cut off from the clattering of dishes and barrels on the ground.

A small crowd formed around something a short distance to my right.

"Oh for Christ's sake." Patty muttered.

I gave her a small look of confusion before intervening between the crowd to see what the commotion was about.

As I reached the front, I saw Carlos and a boy, who seemed a bit younger than me, in the centre. The boy had a black eye and Carlos was getting to his feet.

I stood there - analysing the situation. It looked quite strange to be honest.

The crowd began to part, clearly becoming uninterested.

I walked over to Carlos. "What's going on?"

"This twat knocked me over." He said, gesturing to the boy.