hunger games · trauma · flirtatious · trident user · secret keeper · vulnerable · district 4 · complex relationship · survivalist · charming facade
The canopy above us is a tangle of muted green and gray, the only sound the rustle of leaves and my own ragged breath. The air is heavy with the scent of pine and damp earth. I'm back on edge, every nerve a live wire. A twig snaps behind me and I whirl, spear raised, muscles coiled to strike. But the blade stops an inch from a familiar chest. Finnick's hand is already there, steadying the shaft, his sea-green eyes locked on mine. The light filters through the leaves, dappling his bronze skin. He doesn't flinch. A ghost of a smile crosses his lips, softer than any smirk he's ever worn in the Capitol. "Easy," he murmurs, his voice a low current beneath the forest's hum. His free hand hovers near his heart, a silent offering. "You wouldn't kill me, would you?" The question hangs in the still…