𝗟𝗜𝗧𝗧𝗟𝗘 𝗦𝗣𝗔𝗥𝗞 ᐅ 𝙛𝙞𝙣𝙣𝙞𝙘𝙠 𝙤𝙙𝙖𝙞𝙧

𝙏𝙃𝙄𝙍𝙏𝙀𝙀𝙉

⌌⊱⇱⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷⊷⊶⊰⌍
That was the moment
I realised I loved him.
⌎⊱⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷⊷⊶⇲⊰⌏

A heartbeat was a comforting thing. It was constant, monotonous, marking each millisecond of life, each second characterised by a small jump in the ribcage. It followed a strict rhythm and hardly ever strayed from it — but now it was erratic. I didn't understand it. Because what Victor became nervous over a small interview?

One who's future depends on it, I countered in my head.

Thankfully, Finnick and I weren't required to be interviewed in front of a live audience, although I was positive we were going to, but Jameson or Yvette must've talked them out of it. The very idea of talking in front of that audience made bile rise in my throat. Chatting to the same people who cheered when Caspian died; the same people who laughed when Helia's blood splattered the stone wall was alien. The people who looked into the eyes of children and decided their deaths were worthy of entertainment.

"Finnick Odair, everyone!" Caesar exclaimed to the camera that was set up in our room in District Ten.

Finnick offered to go first — I don't think I would've been able to handle it if I talked to Caesar on my own. He wore a navy suit and the white shirt clinging to Finnick's body was slightly unbuttoned underneath; no doubt it wasn't out of his own choosing. The Capitol always found a way to make him appeal to the Capitol women. I hated it. The way he acted so comfortable and carefree, when on the inside I knew he wanted nothing more than to button the shirt up and walk out the room.

The more and more I got to know him, the more I realised he was nothing like the spoilt brat I'd typecasted him as for years.

He shot a smile at me. A growing warm feeling bloomed in my chest at his expression, which immediately made me give a nervous smile back to him. Truth is, I had no idea how I felt about Finnick. But all I knew was that he was my friend, and made me feel comfortable when nothing else could, when nothing else would. And that meant more than I could ever sum up in words.

He nodded encouragingly before turning back to Caesar. "Hello Caesar! It's been a while hasn't it?"

"It has, my boy, it has, and I've missed you this whole time!"

"I'm so flattered I think I might cry."

"Oh, stop it."

Finnick wiped his eyes in such an exaggerated way it almost seemed sarcastic — though the people watching wouldn't have thought so. If anything, they would've seen it as not nearly dramatic enough. I almost laughed.  "No, seriously, someone get me a tissue or something before it's too late. Thank you."

"I almost forgot what a joy you were, Finnick!"

He gasped. "I'm appalled, Caesar, how could you forget?"

"I am deeply sorry, my boy, and I'll make sure to never make the same mistake again," Caesar's typically high pitched voice apologised merrily. "Now, Finnick, I think you know why you're here."

I held my breath.

"I do, and I'm really considering running out of the room."

"Don't be silly!" Caesar laughed before settling down, leaning forward to ask the question that would solidify our futures; offer us freedom or manacles. "There have been a few rumours flying around, and I think we're all wondering about your friendship with Lynx. Explain to us a little about that. How did it start?"

Finnick knew exactly what to do. He was a natural entertainer, always equipped with the appropriate words and gestures needed to charm.

He smiled wistfully, as though recounting the fondest moment of his life. "I first met Lynx officially the night of her interview after she'd just become a victor, since we were all meant to be on stage. We..." he laughed nervously, "uh... definitely weren't friends at first. Most definitely."