Fic: The Flight of Birds (the Hunger Games)

[keep_counting]

Title: The Flight of Birds
Characters/Pairings: Finnick/Annie, Peeta
Rating: PG13
Warnings: Spoilers for the end of Mockingjay, character-death, allusions to prostitution and murder 
Genre: Angst/Romance
Word-count: 487
Disclaimer: I don't own anything in relation to this.
Summary: Finnick Odair will, eventually, tell Annie Cresta that he loves her.

Finnick Odair will, eventually, tell Annie Cresta that he loves her.

He has told her before, of course. Many times. He’s told her in the dead of the night, and he’s told her in the harsh light of day. But he has also told it to hundreds of people in the Capitol, people with purple skin and swirling tattoos and green hair and eyes with the fires of hell in them.

No, he needs to tell her. He needs her to understand.

(objectively, he knows the fact that he married her and that she is currently carrying his child should be proof enough. But he’s afraid that maybe it isn’t.)

It’s hard, sometimes, getting through to her. It’s like everyone else, including him, is seeing the world through a veil, but it has been removed from her eyes and what she sees is so beautiful and so horrifying that it leaves her breathless and speechless and with a knife in her hands, and he has to grab hold of it and tell her, no, Annie, no, don’t hurt yourself, don’t hurt anyone else, please.

But she’s fine now. She’s… better now. She can function without him, without Mags, and even if there is still that lost look, even if sometimes she looks at people, people they know, and is horrified, like it’s a demon twisting and turn in front of her and not her dear friends, well, then it’s still alright. It has to be, because it’s all they’ve got.

Only, he has to tell her that he loves her. Preferably before it’s too late.

”Annie,” he whispers and she turns her head, fingers digging into the cloth of her dress and she shakes her head and gets up, leaves him.

He follows, though. He always does.

”Annie,” he says again, firmer this time. ”Annie, you need to look at me.”

”It’s fine,” she says to the guard, another dog of District 13; he is shooting her odd looks, but she smiles at him and her smile is brilliant and beautiful and dazzling.

”Annie, please,” he keeps trying, following right behind her, but she doesn’t even turn her head, doesn’t stop her walking until she’s in a room with a cradle, and she’s crying.

It’s the first time in his life that Finnick hasn’t immediately wanted to ask her why she was crying. Because, you see, he already knows. And he needs to tell her…

”I love you,” he says, and he’s desperate and unsure and it isn’t fair, they just needed a bit more time, just a little more, but it’s ruined now, as Peeta comes in, lying a gentle hand on Annie’s shoulder.

”We’re back,” he says and the resounding we won hangs in the air, not said, because…

”I’m so sorry,” Peeta continues and Annie’s sobbing even harder. ”He didn’t make it. I’m so sorry Annie.”

It isn’t fair. It just really isn’t fair.

Comments

[sabaceanbabe.livejournal.com]

Ouch.

[keep-counting.livejournal.com]

<3

[downbythebay-4.livejournal.com]

And death. X_X

[keep-counting.livejournal.com]

:)

[crazyfaucet.livejournal.com]

It really wasn't fair.

[keep-counting.livejournal.com]

<3 :/