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THE SEVENTY FOURTH ANNUAL HUNGER GAMES HAD BEGUN. Octavia anxiously watched, sitting in a common room with other past Victors, this year's mentors. Blight, a Victor from Seven, sat beside Octavia on the couch. They didn't speak. Chaff and Haymitch were passing a bottle back and forth as the children on screen began running, fighting, and dying.
Octavia's eyes dart back and forth across the screen, trying to find any sign of her tributes being alive. She can't help but sigh in relief as Thresh effortlessly ends the District Ten boy's life. He whips his head around, searching for Rue, who was nowhere to be seen. He steps over dead bodies allowing him to run away from the bloodbath unscathed. Rue had seemingly gotten away, too, but Octavia didn't see which way she'd gone. "They're alive," she thinks.
The adrenaline of the bloodbath begins to wind down. The camera shows the boy from Four, attempting to get out of his hiding spot in the Cornucopia. Unfortunately, District Two's boy quickly ends his escape.
Blight shifts uncomfortably at the gore on screen, standing from his spot on the couch. He gives Octavia a nod before leaving the room. Unsurprisingly, Finnick is quick to fill the spot.
"Hey," he whispers. Octavia is surprised that she wasn't immediately met with a sarcastic remark or a crude joke. She looks at him.
"Hi."
He cracks a smile at her response. His eyes dance across her features, admiring every aspect of her face. The couple doesn't say much, fearful of who may be watching or listening, but their eyes speak a thousand words to each other.
"Your tributes got out, that's good," he says. Octavia nods slightly. It shouldn't be hard to talk to him, it was never hard before, but in the Capitol, nothing was normal.
Octavia can vividly remember Finnick's first time in Eleven after their reunion in Four. He'd promptly embarrassed himself in front of Chaff, who still cracks up at the story. He introduced himself to her parents. He walked with her around town. He wasn't Finnick Odair, youngest Victor; he was just Finnick Odair.
───
Finnick had spent hours on a train, anxiously awaiting his arrival in Eleven. The most he can recall about the District is the smell of dust and wheat that infiltrated the air. Come to think of it, he couldn't even remember the names of the tributes from his games. Maybe he was evil, or maybe he was a fourteen year old boy. However, with a year behind him, District Eleven meant something different to him now.
Octavia had been on his mind since she'd returned home. Their time in Four was short lived, but meant more to him than a thousand lifetimes. It was easy for them to love each other. There wasn't much that needed to be said. They understood each other effortlessly.
