trident ✯ finnick odair

i. the odair boy

"and , for our male tribute. sawyer rivera-ridley."

my breath hitches. my brother , sawyer. it can't be. tears flow down my cheeks as i watch my only brother shakily walk towards the stage. the crowd parts , like moses and the red sea. we stay in silence - not a clap , a shout , or a whistle. all i can hear is my own heartbeat , until a heart-wrenching scream is let out from behind me. i turn to see my mother , brought onto her knees in agony. my father is wrecked , trying his best to hold my mother up. i can't help myself. suddenly i'm running out into the crowd. i need to reach my mother and father.

a peacekeeper wraps his arms around mine , stopping me in my tracks. i let out a wail. "please - not sawyer. not my brother." i collapse into the peacekeeper's arms , unable to stop my screams.

(timeskip) - TWO YEARS LATER

i wake up , screaming in terror , for the second time tonight. my brother sawyer died in the hunger games two years ago , but it still haunts my dreams. i think it always will. the memory of watching him ruthlessly murdered will always follow me. especially as his murderer reigned victorious , and i had to watch her on her pathetic victory tour. she was 17 years old , looking down at 10 year old me , apologizing for killing my brother. the capitol acted like i was supposed to look up to her , like she was supposed to be some kind of martyr. all i felt towards her was spite. i couldn't care less that she won the 62nd hunger games , all i wanted was my brother back.

i swing my legs out of bed , feeling defeated. i know i won't be able to sleep , so i'll just stop trying. i tiptoe out of the house , to go to my favourite place. the dock. my father used to take me and my brother fishing when we were younger , and my fondness for it remains. i breathe in the fresh , salty air. i sit on the dock for awhile , admiring the view in content silence. i'm about to get up to leave , when i hear hurried footsteps behind me. i swing my head around in alarm. 

i jump up , wielding an oar as my weapon. "who's there ? show yourself."

i hear a giggle from behind the fishing shack , and i leap forward , holding out my oar. a figure appears from behind the shack , but i can hardly make them out in the dark , all i can see is their hands held high in surrender. "please , don't hurt me with your oar."

i lower the oar , detecting the sarcasm in their voice. "if you wish. now , who are you ?" 

the figure steps into the pale  moonlight. "finnick odair." he sticks a hand out for me to shake. "nice oar." he smiles devilishly.

i shake his hand skeptically. "thanks." i smile sheepishly. "sorry about that."

he laughs. "don't worry about it , i like a girl who can handle herself."

my smile widens , and i let out a giggle. "i can handle more than just myself , thank you very much. you're lucky i didn't need to put that oar to use."

he nods. "i'll take your word for it , oar head."

i roll my eyes. "gosh , don't call me that."

he tilts his head , quizzically. "well , i don't know your name."

i let out a reserved sigh. "sloane. sloane rivera-ridley."

his eyes soften as he recognizes my last name. "oh."

i laugh sadly. "yeah , oh."

he takes my hand. "i'm sorry."

i go to pull my hand away , but i stop myself. "it's okay. thanks for not acting like i'm some sort of celebrity."

he nods. "i wouldn't do that."

of course , it's at this moment , that my stomach decides to growl , loudly. we both laugh. he puts his hand into his pocket , and he takes out a small brown paper bag. he opens it to reveal bread. bread that i know very well. salty , delicious fish-shaped bread. it's district four's traditional bread. he halves it , and hands a piece of bread to me. i'm famished , so i eagerly devour it. he laughs. "hungry ?"