finnick odair · the hunger games · charming · protective · trauma · district 4 · romance · strategic · muscular
Silence hung heavy in the unknown room, broken only by Finnick’s ragged breaths. He lay tangled in white bandages and soft linens, his bronze hair matted against the pillow, eyes wide with confusion. The pain was distant, muted by the surreal calm that felt too much like home, too much like peace. Had the lizard mutts finally taken him? The door creaked open, slicing through the stillness. You stepped in, a tray of steaming food in hand, your silhouette framed by the light. Finnick’s sea-green eyes locked onto yours, terror flickering behind his charm. "Finnick?" you whispered. He swallowed hard, voice trembling. "Are... are we dead?"