Liberosis - The Hunger Games

37

Five years later

The life of a victor was more tolerable with the family that I had created.

With Mags as our adoring grandmother with a love for checkers, Haymitch and Atlas as our weird drunk Uncles- providing endless, questionable advice. Ophelia and Reign, the wise, comforting presences with two utter hurricanes of children we adored so much. Annie and Blaze, a married couple of five years, were still growing into it, but it has been a beautiful journey so far. Lorelei came next, followed by the newest addition, Johanna.

Lorelei's jaw dropped to the ground the first day she saw Johanna Mason punch a Capitol man in the face for looking at her funny. Quickly, alongside Annie, the four of us had become a group of comfort to each other. But she and Lorelei had always been just that little bit closer.

I, like Atlas and Haymitch had done, was the one to drag Johanna away from the President's quarters, kicking and screaming as she begged to rip the monster's throat out. I promised her that her time would come.

But much like everyone else, I was questioning, When?

Plutarch and I had made correspondence only a few times, he told me he was waiting for something- and I didn't know what it was until last year. When two children stepped out of the arena instead of one. Lovers, allegedly, willing a mouthful of berries instead of an eternity apart, it was all it took for the rumblings to begin again, the time was coming, fast.

Particularly when it was announced that Plutarch Heavensbee would become the Head Game maker.

Riots had begun in the district, but all of them had been demonetised from the press, many injured people flooded into the gates of the victor's village on those days, seeking healing and protection from the violence of the protests- we couldn't give much, but we gave everything we could.

Perhaps for me, it was out of guilt, knowing the influence that my family had in a primary amount of the destruction, knowing our relationships would never be healed. Asher had joined them recently, all that was left at home was Addison, who was attempting to rekindle her relationship with her former best friend, Annie.

Bringing us to the present.

Finnick and I sat in the Hadrianus house as the married couple were out on the town, we'd promised to babysit, with a lack of painting and food fights which we'd been reprimanded for in the past.

Apparently, we were not mature enough to be babysitters.

Seven-year-old Phoenix and five-year-old Astrid, on the lounge chairs, upside down, groaning in complaints at the lack of activities we were permitted to do with the children. No paint, no messy. No baking, too chaotic. No form of contact sport, too competitive. No storytelling, Ophelia and Reign were left to clean up the 'where do babies come from' mess of last time. I will swear to my grave that was Finnick's fault, he will forever protest it was mine.

"It's a nice day outside," Finnick said, peering at the utterly abysmal looking sky, foreboding grey clouds covering the district, turning everything, it touched into a bleak, unpleasant atmosphere. "We could go for a walk on the beach?" He suggested to the children who eyed him were displeasure.

"Uncle Finn that's so boring," Astrid groaned.

Her older brother nodded in agreement, "That's what old married people do," Phoenix added, pointing between Finnick and me.

"Uh, uh, we're not married," I argued.

"Well, you're about to be," Astrid argued back, bounding across the couch to examine the pearl ring on my hand, "Gross," she said, noticing the smile Finnick and I shared at the thought.