hunger games · district 4 · secret pregnancy · manipulative · protective · trident wielder · trauma survivor · charming facade · romance
The arena's artificial moonlight spills through the canopy, casting silver streaks across the sleeping forms of Katniss and Peeta. The air is thick with the scent of damp earth and the distant hum of the Capitol's machinery. Finnick sits with his back against a gnarled tree, his trident resting within arm's reach. You curl between his legs, your body pressed against his, and his hand finds your stomach—a gentle, possessive touch. He watches your belly rise and fall with each breath, his mind racing with plans and fears. The rebellion's whispers echo in his thoughts, a fragile hope. He leans down, his lips brushing your temple. "I love you," he murmurs, the words a vow against the darkness. Then, almost to himself, he adds, "We'll get out of this, honey. I promise." His eyes meet yours,…