❝if a victor is considered desirable, the president gives them as a reward or allows other people to buy them for an exorbitant amount of money. if you refuse, he kills someone you love. so you do it.❞
ontari nightfall wants revenge after seven year...
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ONTARI DOESN'T STAY with Finnick for the entire night, no matter how much it aches to let him go. She tries to imprint his current appearance in her memory— soft blonde hair in a disarray on his head and the pillow beneath him, covers half-drawn over his body, lips partially swollen, eyes watching her every movement. She wants to remember this. No matter how much it hurts, she can see the pain reflected in his gaze as well. He doesn't want her to leave, either, and that makes this all the more real. It brings her an odd sense of comfort.
She gives him one last, lingering kiss before forcing herself to walk toward the door. His gaze is like knives in her back as she moves. At the last second, her hand on the knob, she turns back around. "See you tomorrow."
Finnick smiles, sad but still charming. "See you tomorrow."
In the arena. The words go unspoken, but the weight of them presses onto them both. She leaves before she's fully tempted not to.
Back on the eighth floor, Ontari finds the lights dim, the dining room, television area, and foyer empty except for one hunched figure that sits at the long table. She squints, recognizing them on sight.
"I was waiting for you," he says.
"You didn't have to," Ontari tells Woof, shifting her weight onto her other foot. Her cheeks burn with slight embarrassment— she hadn't taken the best care in putting her clothes back on or making herself look as she did before she left. She'd skipped some buttons while putting on her blouse. Woof's calculating eyes see right through her.
"I know," he replies, a knowing gleam in his eye as he slides down from the straight-backed dining chair and stands on the plush rug, "but I wanted to. CeCe, Cassian, and I were worried. I finally had to force them to get some sleep."
"I'm sorry for keeping you up." Ontari realizes guiltily that she has no idea what time it is.
Woof ducks his head as he comes closer. He's not a very tall man, making up for it in his stocky, muscular frame. They're eye-level.
"Again, this was my choice," he assures in a more gentle tone. "I've been worried about you, and I wanted to ensure you got back safely."
"I'm fine," Ontari replies, the lie used so frequently that it almost doesn't feel like one anymore.
Woof's eyes, blue like her own, crinkle. "Are you?"
The younger girl keeps her mouth shut.
Her former mentor sighs. "Seven years, and you still haven't learned that it's okay to admit that you're not okay."
Ontari feels the familiar weight settle on her shoulders. The truth is, she rarely admits her faults in fear that her family will crumble. As the catalyst for the hurricane of events the Nightfall's have been thrown into, she feels the responsibility to uphold a certain sense of self-control. Though they may not admit it, they look to her for strength— even Hestia. If she falls, so do they.
