❝ all that blood was
never once beautiful
it was always just red ❞
──⭒─⭑─⭒──
In which the sweetheart of the Capitol
has to navigate her way out of a
deadly game once more.
──⭒─⭑─⭒──
finnick odair x...
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𝔖mells had always been a big part of memory. If you were to smell something nostalgic, then you were instantly reminded of running home as a child, with scratched up knees and tangled hair. If you smelt a certain perfume, you were reminded of your mother's hugs and her kisses to the bruises on your elbows. If you smelt a certain cologne, you could be reminded of that time you kissed the boy next door behind a boat shed near to the shore.
Smells were the key to memories.
Iron clouded my senses and I sat bolt upright in my bed, heart racing as I searched for the source.
Like most, smells were the key to my memory and iron, iron was the worst smell of all because it triggered something in my head that even after years, I could not shake the reaction that it elicited. For a moment, I was running across rocks, blood dripping from my nose, a trident clutched in my hand, and then I was back in the warmth of my house as I registered the muffled curses that followed the smell.
Sighing deeply, I threaded my hands through my hair, pushing it back off of my face, before shaking the sleep and fear off and padding downstairs to investigate. I was certain who the culprit was.
Sure enough, in the kitchen of my home, running their hand under cold water, was a familiar head of near to golden curls.
"Finnick." The man paused, turning to look back at me with a sheepish grin plastered across his face, sea-green eyes warm. "What did you do?"
"You wouldn't believe me." I shook my head at that, as the man finally removed his hand from the cold water, sucking on his finger as he approached. "I got a papercut on Friday, yes? Then, I just got a splinter from that piece of driftwood at your door, which I told you was a hazard, and now I'm bleeding."
"For such a graceful person, you sure do injure yourself a lot." I smiled gently as Finnick pulled his jacket off, throwing it over the back of a chair. "Have you got the splinter out?"
"Yes. That was why I was cursing. It hurt like a bitch." Finnick cussed, sitting down before setting a paper bag down onto the table. "So, breakfast?"
"Breakfast sounds good." I nodded, opening the bag as the smell of warming bread washed over me. A grin had already found its way onto my face as Finnick and I began to work our way around my kitchen, finding plates, butter, knives and jam. By the time we were done, the kitchen was warm with the steadily rising sun, and the bread had cooled from it's baking temperature to one that was more easy for us to handle.
We don't feel the need to talk for the most part, eating our food and watching the sun shine through the windows.
The Victor Village of District Four was located on a stretch by the sea, the houses in a row overlooking the water. Even in the winter, it was warm enough to swim, though there was a cooler sea breeze rattling at the windows on occasions. The kitchen windows overlook the water, and for most of the year, I spend my time on the back porch or in this very room, basking in the sun. Sometimes, I cook, creating different dishes for some of the other victors to try, but most of the time, it's just myself, alone for months.
That was, at least, apart from the Hunger Games weeks, when I am normally dragged back to the Capitol to watch the children I mentor die in an arena brutally. Or, occasionally, they'd win and I'd have months of touring the districts.
Finnick lived two doors down, though there was an empty house between us. Often enough, he invaded my home to annoy me about little things or keep me company on days when both of us needed it. He had been one of my mentors during my own games, both of us only sixteen at the time, so we knew what the other was going through, what our brains would make us see. He had always coped a little better than I had, so him being by my side was one of the best things for me. But, Finnick wasn't always there.
He went to the Capitol more often than I did, as I normally refused to go anywhere near that place. It reminded me of all the terrible things I had done during the games, and the fact that I'd survived. I only ever went to mentor and even that was forced.
"Did you see the Flickerman show?" Finnick questioned, as I lick my fingers clean of jam. I nod, humming. "Those victors from last year are engaged."
"Thought that would be the case." I shrug. The pair from last year had won it together, which was unheard of in the history of the games. They'd been star crossed lovers and as much as I was sceptical of most things in the games, to me at least, the love looked real. The girl had pulled out berries, both being prepared to die for each other instead of letting there be a victor, and I wonder what that had cost them. I wondered if they had family left. "Do you think their mentors came up with it, or them?"
"I'm not sure." Finnick replied, before turning to look at me. "How many hearts would have been broken if one of us got married after winning the games?"
"They'd cause a flood with all the tears." I joked softly, before grabbing the plates. "Only a few more weeks, then Quarter Quell announcements."
"What do you think it is this time?"
"I don't care to think about it." He hums, shaking his head. I knew that looks in his eyes too well, the little glint that he tried to hide from others. He had a secret that he was keeping. "You've thought about it."
"I might have."
"Go on." I turned back to him.
"There's a new head gamemaker who apparently wants to make things more 'interesting'. I spoke to a colleague of his in the Capitol." Finnick puts the words in quotes as I nod. "I'm not sure what that means. I think maybe they'll do an all female, all male arena and then get the winners to fight against each other. But, who am I to discuss the Capitol's plans for the Quell."
"When do you have to go back there?"
"Not for a little while now. Not until after the announcements, for yet another year of mentoring." Finnick points out, both of us relaxing into our chairs. "The anticipation of it all is what's killing me."
"I know." I huffed. "I just want to get it out of the way, you know? I want this year to go as quickly as possible and then, I want to come home and sleep it off."
Finnick hummed and I know there's something else on his mind, but neither of us say anything. Even here, in my home, there are some things that are far too dangerous to say. Things like, I doubt that I will be able to rest after these Games. There's something in the air, something deadly and both of us have a feeling that it'll come to head this year with the 75th Quarter Quell, especially after last year's victors. There is a word being whispered and it brought both equal sense fear and delight;
Rebellion.
But even the thought was too mutinous, and I buried it deep inside my mind, before going back to basking in the winter sun.
──⭒─⭑─⭒──
Hiya,
Slightly slower first chapter to Sweet Psycho, and you get to meet Anika who lives two doors down from Finnick. This is in partnership with Power Over Me, so just as a heads up to anyone who hasn't read that, the two victors are Cato Hadley and Mitzi Kennedy. Otherwise, all good, have fun and see you soon.
