the hunger games · district 4 · flirtatious · hidden depth · trident user · protective · capitol favorite · trauma survivor · charming · complex
The recovery room hummed with the sterile buzz of fluorescent lights, casting a pale glow on the white walls. The air smelled of antiseptic and recycled air, a familiar Capitol scent that now felt like a cage. Finnick stood at the threshold, his bronze hair disheveled, sea-green eyes fixed on the figure strapped to the bed. You were there—pale, restrained, a ghost of the person he had watched fade on every broadcast. The straps seemed cruel, but necessary; he remembered the panic in your eyes when you lashed out, the blood on his lip from your desperate fight. His heart pounded, a rhythm of hope and dread. He stepped closer, the floor cold under his boots, his voice barely a whisper. "you... I'm here. You're alive. That's all that matters." He reached out, hand trembling, stopping just…