Finnick Odair's Story: Dark Secrets (The Hunger Games Fanfiction)

Real or Not Real?

''I'm sorry, did I wake you up?'' she whispers, child-like in her nightie and bare feet.

''No, not all. I don't usually fall asleep until much later than this,'' I say, sitting up in bed.

"Oh," Annie says, her face torn between sympathy and confusion. She runs a hand through her hair as if she's frustrated.

"Is everything alright?" I ask, frowning. My heart sinks when I remember seeing Annie and Zac kissing earlier.

"I want to apologise for..." she hesitates, "me and Zac. We're not even a couple, not really, not at all. It wasn't as if I wanted him to kiss me, he just took advantage because I was upset."

"It's fine," I lie, fidgeting with my quilt. Annie clutches the hem of her starry nightgown, fists tightly clenched. She takes a deep breath before speaking.

"I came to you because," she hesitates, "because I'm scared. Of the Games, of death. I'm terrified that as soon as I get in the arena, someone will kill me straight away. Whenever I think about it, I just feel nauseous." And with that, she collapses on the floor with a sob, her body curled up in a ball, hair covering her face.

Awkwardly, I pull the duvet from my half-naked body and walk towards the quivering, crying mess that is Annie. I make comforting noises as I wrap my arms around her shoulders, taking care not to make her feel uncomfortable at my bare chest.

Quite the opposite, I discover, as Annie turns towards me and rests her head on my shoulder, breathing softly. Her tears soon stop, to my relief. I take her hand in mine and we sit in silence for a few minutes; no sound other than our slow inhaling and exhaling, and the faint music and chatter of voices drifting from below.

"Annie?" I whisper, holding her head in my hands and looking her in the eyes. It's almost as if she is my daughter, but at the same time, I still find her fascinatingly beautiful and stunning. Her deer-like eyes blink at me as a solitary tear falls down her cheek, hanging on her lips for a second before hitting her bony knees. She bites her lip and I have a crazy urge to lean forward and kiss her.

"Sorry," she mumbles. "Shit, sorry Finnick." She scrambles to her feet, pushing my hands away and smoothing down her nightie. "I don't even know why I came here, sorry."

"Stop apologising," I say. "It's fine. Come and sit down for a while."

We go to sit down on the huge velvet sofa that faces out on to the city, boasting a magnificent view of bright lights and colours. More often than not, a party in the Capitol is letting off fireworks and I usually stay up to watch these, trying to avoid going to sleep. We sit, unfortunately, on opposite ends of the sofa and watch the city for a few minutes.

"Thanks for this. I'm not usually this emotional," Annie assures me, blushing.

"Don't worry about it," I say. "I guess I'm happy to help. I've been in your position, but I can't say I'm the best role model for you right now."

"Oh?" she frowns.

"Let's just say I'm not coping very well here," I say, not keen to divulge how badly I've managed since winning the Games.

"I heard you fighting with Zac, just after I left," she says, and I nod slowly.

"Yeah, that was probably not the best idea, considering I'm supposed to be your mentor. But he," I rack my brain for the right words, "annoyed me. It was as if he was looking straight into my mind and picking out my darkest feelings for everyone to see."

Zac's words echo in my mind; "everyone else is dead and I wish I was too." He was obviously just being stupid, teasing, but it still hurt. Damn, I need a drink so badly, but I drunk the final drops earlier and, besides, I doubt that Annie would be impressed if I pulled out a bottle of vodka and took a swig.