𝐄𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐋 | Hunger Games

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FINNICK ODAIR WAS A MAN OF MANY MYSTERIES.

He was both charming and desirable, exceptionally handsome yet deadly all at the same time. Those were just a few of the words that had been used to describe him over the years he'd been known to Panem. Since his victory he'd been a God walking among mortals. In the Capitol he would shoot his victims down with a lavish smirk. In the Games he'd strike from behind with his trident, a weapon that embodied his district. He was Kratos in his truest form—strength, might and power.

Everybody that knew him wanted to be him, it was no secret. They either loved him or hated him but it didn't deter from the fact that he was a God. He was always calm and composed and never phased by anything that happened around him.

Or he used to be until he watched the love of his life run into a dense jungle with four deadly killers on her back. He had to fight to keep focused, to stop himself from saying to hell with the rebellion—to hell with the promise she'd made him make—and chase her into that jungle. He had to stop his mind from thinking of all the ways she could've been killed. His heart stopped dead in his chest every time he heard a cannon sound around them and it took Mags' hand on his arm to pull him back into reality.

He had to keep himself focused when he was forced to realise that Katniss and Peeta did actually love each other in their own strange and twisted way after he'd had to resuscitate him when his heart had stopped. It pulled at his heart that felt half empty when she was not around. Aella had her fingers wrapped tightly around his heart in the same way he did hers and he was only just feeling the true effect of it.

As the night swept in on them he couldn't stop himself from fidgeting with his fingers. It was a habit he hadn't realised he'd picked up from her until just then. It would've been better if it was a small string of rope, that way he could've occupied his mind twisting knots while trying not to think about the promise in her eyes before she turned her back on him and dived back into the water.

Fidgeting with her fingers had always been her thing, tying knots into rope was his. It was something only they knew about each other. To everyone else it was nothing but to them it was their tells of nervousness or anxiety.

The sound of the Capitol tune echoed loudly through the arena and it made his heart pound in his chest in anticipation. Adrenaline ran through his body, forcing his legs to grow numb as he looked upward to the sky and prayed while he waited.

Drew's face was the first to flash in the sky along with his District to signify his death. Anger clutched at Finnick's heart at the mere sight of his face but he suppressed it quickly. All he wanted was to be able to console Aella after she killed him because he knew she would need it.

It was a big thing for her to kill someone who had taunted and ruined her life for over six years. All her pent up rage and anger would release into grief. He had seen the way it loomed over her shoulders when she tilted her head back to the sky and exhaled deeply after he'd died. When she had turned back to him that one last time he could see the way it gripped her body and forced its way in. He knew that killing him after six years would have had a massive impact on her and the fact he couldn't be there to help her through it was killing him inside.

When the next face that was shown was the male of the Morphling duo from District Six his shoulders relaxed in a way they never had before. The tension dissipated from his body for a brief moment in a large wave and he exhaled deeply. He was overwhelmingly relieved that she was still alive—not like he ever doubted her—and little did he know she was sitting across the arena thinking the very same.

The relief intensified when the tribute skipped District Seven all together and moved straight on to District Nine. Aella and Johanna were still alive for now, all they had to do was make it through the night.