"after all these years, isn't it strange that we haven't managed to have a proper conversation?"
"well, my lucks gotta run out at some point."
finnick o'dair x fem!oc
SIX: sex for secrets "it's amazing to me how much you can say, when you don't know what you're talking about." — icu, phoebe bridgers
word count: 3.5k
TRIGGER WARNING: autistic meltdown
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
Dahlia set her plan into action and changed her form of payment that very evening. Most of her clients were head gamemakers or people who held a position of influence in the Capitol, which gave her a perfect opportunity to gather information on their beloved president and use it to her advantage.
Instead of being paid in cash, she chose to exchange sex for secrets.
She burned through her list of clients in fourteen days and before she knew it, she was on the train back to district nine. Malaki accompanied her on the journey home and flaunted a newspaper in front of her face.
She and Finnick had made the front page for two consecutive weeks. The paparazzi were having a field day with the story. Pictures of them had been circulating the whole of Panem and Caeser Flickerman had been hounding them for an interview since they spoke to Capitol News.
The plan seemed to be working so far and although being in the spotlight would surely make her episodes more frequent, it was a cross she would have to bear if it meant everybody she loved was out of harm's way.
Over breakfast, Malaki joked about how Bloom was growing more popular as the days went by. Dahlia polished off a bottle of fizzy lemonade before excusing herself from the table and retreating to her room on the train.
Dahlia waited for the heavy metal door to clunk closed behind her before she pulled off her slippers and sat on the edge of the bed. It was always difficult to tell what was real and what wasn't when she was on the train. She supposed it was because of all the bad memories she associated with it.
Either way, it would take seven hours to arrive home, and sleeping was the best solution to her problems. She curled up under the thick duvet and silk sheets, falling asleep in a matter of minutes.
As six o'clock rolled around and they grew closer to home, Malaki opened the blinds to let the remaining slivers of evening light into her room before shaking her awake. "Wake up!" he beamed, tugging the duvet down to the end of the bed. She tossed about in protest and groaned into her hands. "Come on, I bet Juniper's dying to hear the gossip first-hand."
Dahlia muttered a muffled string of curses into her elbows before pulling herself up. She wrapped a beige cardigan around her and slid on her slippers as Malaki wheeled her black suitcase out into the hallway.
Although Bloom was an outstanding stylist, she couldn't help but feel grateful to dress in her own clothes again.
As the train pulled into the station and slowed to a gradual halt, Dahlia made her way down the carriage, waiting for the automatic doors to swing open. Fresh air filled her lungs as she hopped onto the platform and wearily offered her thanks to Malaki for hauling her suitcase down the steps.
