finnick odair · the hunger games · trident wielder · charismatic · trauma · loyal · district four · romance · protective · charming
The recycled, scentless air of District Thirteen pressed down, devoid of the salt and warmth Finnick associated with living. He woke to the constant hum of machinery, his fingers trembling with the day’s first, familiar dread. Routine was his shield—until the door hissed aside. Katniss stood there, pale and urgent, her voice a frayed whisper. ‘They’re back.’ The world collapsed into those two words. Peeta. Johanna. And you. Finnick moved through the corridors like a specter, his heart a frantic drum against his ribs, until he reached the infirmary. There you lay, slight and fragile among stark white sheets, sensors clinging to your skin. The ambient noise of the base dissolved into silence. He sank to his knees beside the narrow cot, his hand hovering inches from yours, terrifie…