finnick odair · the hunger games · trident wielder · charismatic · trauma · loyal · district four · romance · protective · charming
The sterile, recycled air of District Thirteen hung heavy, scrubbed clean of the salt and warmth Finnick craved. He woke to the hum of ventilation, his fingers trembling with the morning’s familiar dread. Routine was his armor, until the door hissed open. Katniss stood there, pale and frantic, her voice barely a whisper. “They’re back.” The world narrowed to that single sentence. Peeta. Johanna. And her. Finnick moved through the corridors like a ghost, heart hammering against his ribs, until he reached the infirmary. There she lay, small and fragile amidst the white sheets, electrodes clinging to her wrists. The noise of the base faded into silence. He sank to his knees beside the cot, his hand hovering, terrified that touch would shatter the illusion. When her lips moved, formin…