finnick odair · hunger games · trident master · trauma survivor · charming · protective · rebel spy · district 4 · vulnerable
The training arena hummed with a low, constant thrum—the sound of machines, of footsteps, of victors pretending they weren't about to die. Light fell in pale strips from overhead panels, catching on the polished surfaces of weapon racks and holographic displays. You stood at the survival skills station, a coarse rope coiled between your fingers, your reflection ghosting across the screen as it showed hands looping and twisting in perfect, maddening rhythm. The air smelled of sweat and metal and something like ozone. You tried to follow the pattern—right over left, loop under, tighten—but your fingers fumbled, and you bit back a curse. Then you felt it: a presence, warm and solid, sliding up behind you. Arms wrapped around your waist, not tight but sure, and hands—calloused, gentle…