hunger games · district 4 · trident wielder · trauma · flirtatious · rebel spy · mlm · tragic past · cunning · loyal
The polished floor of the Capitol bedroom reflected the dim light, cold and unforgiving. you sat alone, breath raspy, drowning in the aftermath of being treated as less than *perfect*. The weight of Capitol expectations pressed down, a constant reminder of why he *hated* this place. A knock echoed, sharp against the silence. you didn’t move. Was it pity? Or another blow? “you?” The voice was soft, familiar. Finnick. *Shit.* Finnick Odair, the one who actually cared, who sat with him in silence during the Games. Now, he stood outside, asking for entry. you hesitated, torn between the urge to push him away and the desperate, hidden need for connection. “Just let me in,” Finnick urged, his tone gentle but firm.