The 'Flower of Panem' or 'The Angel of Mercy', Seraphine Reza is the jewel and pride of Panem. One of their most treasured victors in the history of the Hunger Games and a favorite of President Snow.
While she smiles, comforts and plays her part ev...
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"No." Finnick crossed his arms and leaned against the counter in Sera's kitchen.
"I'm not asking for much, Fin." She threw her hair into a low ponytail and turned to face Finnick. His hair was still damp from his shower and it was falling over his face. "I just need to know what Haymitch Abernathy is really like."
"Unstable, moody and temperamental—oh and did I mention a drunk?" Finnick listed off and patted his head with a borrowed towel from Sera. "Everyone knows what he's like. It's not a big secret that he's got a few screws loose. You know the usual."
Though it was a mystery why Sera was suddenly so interested in the recluse sole victor of Twelve. There was nothing of interest in Twelve or Haymitch. Yet he'd noticed that she had been paying extra attention to both more often than late.
Finnick glanced at Sera from the corner of his eye but her face gave nothing away. He should've expected it. If anyone was good at masking their thoughts and emotions it would be her.
"That's not what I meant." She needed to know if there was an easy way to gain his trust—not fear or concern.
She didn't want Haymitch or the Twelve team to see her as a threat even though she was practically Snow's left arm and informant.
Being feared was never a good way to control someone, gaining someone's trust was the better and long-term method. It had worked in her favor for so long and she knew it worked better over all.
Snow wouldn't know much about it. He was wrong to think fear was the better form of control—it wasn't. It was temporary and fleeting.
"What I meant was—what's he really like? You know underneath that tough-guy act he's got. I'm sure you know more about it than I do."
Finnick hummed in response, pretending he was busy drying his hair. Water was soaking his short-sleeved white cotton shirt and she could see through it now. His muscles could be seen as he slowly took off the towel and grinned at her.
She grinned back before playfully pressing the towel into his face. "Your shirt's wet by the way."
"Oh so you noticed." He was doing it on purpose to take her mind off. It always worked with everyone else but when he looked at her, she seemed more conflicted. A little conflicted and a little something more.
"Like what you see."
"You are going to catch a cold."
She looked away. Her cheeks heated up as a light dusting of pink coated her cheeks from the tip of her ears. She grabbed the two plates of rice and mushroom stew, taking it over to her small dining room.
