The Life of A Victor || Finnick Odair

CHAPTER 39

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"Stop! Stop! Ladies and gentlemen, I am pleased to present the victors of the Seventy-fourth Hunger Games, Katniss Everdeen and Peeta Mellark! I give you—the tributes of District Twelve!" Claudius Templesmith's voice echoed around District Four's living room.

Dove stared at the television, not taking her eyes off the new Victors for even a second before the hovercraft took them out of the Arena. Ron's arm rested on her shoulders, trying to comfort her, while Annie grasped her hand.

Annie didn't let go of her grip since Dove got back to District Four's floor from her 'treatment'. Coincidentally, the treatment was the same day the Games started, causing her not to be around while the rest had to see their male tribute dying in the bloodbath.

"How cute. The lovebirds were allowed to win together," Finnick commented with a bitter smile as he got up from his seat. He didn't believe their act for a second, but he didn't blame them for wanting to survive either, even if their act was too obvious.

"People won't get the right idea with this. If two tributes from Twelve of all districts could survive, why couldn't they?" Ron replied to Finnick's comment, causing Annie's and Dove's attention to leave the television.

"Our good president won't be too pleased with this outcome," Dove muttered, clenching Annie's hand tighter as she turned off the television. "Aren't you tired, Annie? Come sleep over in my room. We'll go back home soon, and we'll have to look our best." She added, looking at Annie, who nodded.

"You two get some sleep, too." Dove said, before guiding her friend to her room. After a long shower, the two laid down on the bed, hugging each other to look for warmth and comfort in the other.

Hours later, Dove's bed's side descended, startling her as she sat up abruptly to face the intruder. "Hey," Finnick whispered, soothing her accelerated breathing by caressing her hand.

"Finnick, Goddammit. You have to stop scaring me like this," Dove breathed out, squeezing his hand as she let herself fall down onto the pillow. "Did you have a nightmare or did you not sleep at all?" she asked, repositioning herself so she rested on her left side, facing him.

"I thought I hadn't fallen asleep, but I was wrong. In my dream, you disappeared. You literally turned into thin air in front of me. I heard your voice, but that led me nowhere. I couldn't find you," he muttered, caressing her face with his free hand.

"I'm here, now and always." Dove whispered, sitting up straight until his faces were merely centimetres apart. "May I kiss you?" she said, a chuckle involuntarily leaving her lips as Finnick faked to wonder what to do.

"Did you even have to ask?" he commented, making her raise an eyebrow playfully at him. "Consent is the key to everything, honey," she replied, letting go of his hand to wrap them around his neck.

"Then I give you my full consent," Finnick said. "To what exactly?" asked Dove teasingly, getting payback for the many times he had done the same joke. He sighed loudly, smiling from ear to ear as he wrapped his arms around her waist, pulling her closer to him.

"Goddammit, Dove. Stop teasing me and kiss me." He huffed before she closed the gap between them. The strange combination between the taste of sugar cubes and blood caused Dove to stop the kiss, lowering her arms from his neck to her lap.

During the Hunger Games, President Snow took advantage of the situation to increase the dosage of poison, causing more and deeper wounds to form and, therefore, bleeding more than usual. The wounds took time to close, making everything taste like blood for a few days.