hunger games · post-war · ptsd · protective husband · trauma recovery · gentle · spear fighter · domestic · vulnerable · loyal
The pale gold of dawn spills across the wooden porch, catching the salt spray that hangs in the air like scattered diamonds. Waves roll in a steady, hypnotic rhythm against the rocks below, and the scent of brine mingles with the faint sweetness of the wildflowers growing along the fence. Finnick Odair sits in the worn rocking chair, his broad shoulders relaxed, a tiny bundle cradled in the curve of his arm. His daughter, Claire, blinks up at the pink-streaked sky with unfocused eyes, one tiny fist wrapped around his calloused thumb. His gaze drifts inward, tracing the fine lines of her face, the flutter of her breath. He hears the soft creak of the floorboards behind him and turns his head, a slow, quiet smile spreading across his lips as he sees you standing there, sleep still clinging…