Suffocate

I don't really sleep. I take a long drink of milk, sprinkled with the chocolate powder I adored from the Capitol. Instead of my ridiculously large bed I tuck myself up on the plush leather couch, pulling a thick soft blanket over me. I could call someone, my hand was itching for the phone. But who?

I didn't want to call outside of the District, not already, so soon after the games. Not that I really have anyone to speak too.

My mother would be asleep, and that would be an awkward conversation either way.

There had always been issues, originally spiralling from how swiftly my mother had moved on after my father’s ship had been hit hard in the storm. They’d never been found. I refused to call him Dad, give any sense of that to her new boyfriend.

I was eight and hurt, bitter.

That hadn’t changed much when it came to him, but it had formed a crack that only grew wider over time. I had my brothers, but they would definitely be asleep, they worked long hours, too proud to accept much of the money I offered their way. I’d even offered them the house but they’d both rejected me kindly.

They were nervous to be noticed by the Capitol, the peace-keepers as I was.

Luckily their wives were different and accepted the coins with a smirk, and a promise to make sure to spend it wisely. As long as their children ate I was happy. And they did, Four was well off, in comparison to some places.

I could still remember the sites of Eleven and Twelve on my Victory Tour, the emancipated bodies of the young which had made me shudder.

I was so glad that didn’t happen here. We were lucky in that respect.
Either way I felt guilty whenever I drifted back there.

The clock on the marble mantelpiece chimes, letting me know it was two am. Finnick wanted to meet at eight, to walk into the square, take the scenic route along the beach to meet the families.

Even thinking it made me feel queasy. I knew now, after having to explain to six families, how they would react, what they would ask.

Did I do all I could?

And had I? Maybe not, I knew neither would win, I knew there was no chance.
I should have pushed them either way, tried harder to make them survive.

But maybe it was better they died quickly, swiftly than suffered for days.
But that was cruel again, to write them off like I had, we had.

I sighed, snuggling further into the cushion. I could feel the sugar coating my teeth and admitted defeat, pulling myself up, leg numb and limping to the phone, dialling a familiar number I almost didn’t expect to be picked up.

“Hello?” He sounded tired and I apologised instantly, “Elenia, what’s wrong?”

“N..nothing, I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have rung you.” I was practically stammering.

“No,” He yawned, “It’s fine, couldn’t sleep?” I didn’t have to reply, “Elle, come over. The doors open.”

I instantly felt guilty, I shouldn’t be pushing into him. That was his house, his last sense of privacy. And I knew he would want that, he always did when we, or him with anybody else came back from the Capital.

He deserved that time to adjust, I couldn’t imagine how he felt about it each year.

“No, I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have...” I hated the quiver in my voice.

“Seriously, come over. I know how much you hate seeing them every year.” He had me, easily winning me over with his next sentence, “I want you here Elenia.”

It was a sentence I’m sure would send a good third of the Capitol to their knees. I just felt that usual flicker in my stomach, “Elenia?”

“Okay. I’ll be there in a moment.” I placed the phone down before he could reply, the flicker was a spark, smouldering within me. But it was no use, no point to it and I managed to quench it with another sip of the sweet drink.

I slipped on some sandals, I had no need for a coat, even with my short nightdress on, especially not in the midst of summer so far south in Panem. I slipped out, also neglecting to lock my own door. Eight of the houses were taken now, and I was the most recent victor, the previous had been Finnick, it had been his ten year anniversary this games, the seventy fourth.

It was a first for Four, even though we had volunteers odd years, it was One and Two who could take home a victor for three or four years in a row. But then to have two of us in ten years was impressive enough, and female victors were always less common unless they were smart or skilled.

Often it came down to strength and the males prevailed.

Not that we’d all ended up happily.

A couple of the others were never seen without a bottle of alcohol in their hands.

Finnick was forced into being the Capitols little pet whenever he was there, not that he would ever speak about it frankly, never open up about how it made him feel.

And me...

“You planning on coming in?” I blinked back into the present, meeting his slightly humoured gaze. I nodded, brushing past him and into the house. It was messier than mine, but then I did it almost obsessively, everything had a place.

The urge to start tidying was almost overwhelming until he spoke again, “You want something to drink?”

“Yes, thanks.” He vanished into the kitchen but I lingered in place, accepting the cool water, tinged with a hint of orange. “It’s good right?” I nodded, taking a long sip, feeling it rest my throat a little.

“Could you not sleep then?” I shook my head, and he pouted sympathetically, “I wasn’t doing too well either, I was just dozing on the couch.” I looked around him at the hologram, it was on, silent, but I could see Ceasers grinning face. “What are they going over?”

“Each tribute this year, from chariot to death.” He lifted his voice, catching that Capitol twang. I frowned.

“Why are you watching that?” He shrugged, but drifted back over, leaving me to trail after him, tucking my legs beneath me, the glass clasped in both hands as he turned up the volume. I had missed both of the tributes that year, although their names flooded back to me. Alata and Shim.

Guilt hit me hard and my fingers tightened painfully, although a hand looped around one, pulling it away softly. Finnick as always. “Sorry.” I murmured weakly, placing the glass down on the smooth wood. He smiled at me and I managed one back. He was so good at that, comforting you so easily.

Either way, sorry was by far my most used word.
But I didn't like to speak much.

“Tomorrow evening, after we’ve seen the families I’m going to go and see Bathilda for a bit, probably just a couple of days.”

I hated it when he wasn’t here.

“I’ll keep an eye on Mags.” I promised instantly, knowing it was exactly what he was going to ask, “I’ll do dinner or something, go down to the east pier with her and shop a little.” His tongue darted over his lips and I had to bite mine to stop from imitating him.

His mother had died young, and during the games Mags had been his mentor. Afterwards she had practically raised him, helped him deal with everything the same way he had with me.

He just managed it a lot better.

“Thankyou.”

I assured him it was no issue, and it wasn’t. I didn’t have anything else to do, never did now. When you were a victor you didn’t have to do any of the district jobs, you didn’t have to finish school, although at points I had done both. All I was supposed to do was lounge around or build up my talent.

Cooking, so dull, so stereotypical.

But then it was easy, just following your senses, timing and preparation were important, it was all about precision which I found simple. I liked instructions, planning, lists.

“No problem, I’ll sort something out.” I was more worried that he wouldn't be here to look after me.

“Do you want me to drop anything off at your brothers houses?” They lived a few miles away from his sister, at least ten from the Victors Village. District Four was long and thin, dancing along the coast with a few larger ports where people settled for work.

“Erm,” I bit my lip again, “I’ll pass some money along, it’s my nephews birthday soonish so, Rita will know what to get him more than I do...I'll give them both some extra as well.”

“Alright...” He mused, lips pursed, his eyes were staring past the glimmering screen, past the tribute from Eight succumbing to the Career pack. I hated that idea, of the Career pack, the viciousness that ensued.

But it was what had kept me alive, and I was hypocrite to view it in the way I did.

“I don’t want to watch this.” He sighed at me but nodded, flicking it off and plunging us into silence and very weak lighting, the scented candles in the corner fluttering. “It smells like the Capitol in here with them.” I whispered, quickly regretting my words. The smell seemed to cling to you either way, especially him, after what he did. I sucked in my lips, the apology on the tip of my tongue.

“Don’t dance around it.” He stated almost tiredly, “I’m sick of dancing around it. It happens, okay?” He stared hard at me until I nodded.

“I...” I was struggling to get the words out as always, stuttering like an imbecile, “I...I just d..don’t like bringing it back with us.” My hands found each other again in an uncomfortable embrace, fingers twisting in the quiet before he spoke.

“Let’s just try and go to bed.” I couldn’t stop my eyebrows from lifting a little in shock that I wasn’t faced with some sarcastic reply. The apology bubbled up yet again but he leapt gracefully from the couch, offering me his hand like he had earlier that evening. I took it, my palm was sweaty with the instantaneous nerves that had hit when I was worried I’d angered him.

“Are you staying or going home?” His voice was that gentle purr again and I felt the words stick in my throat, “You can you know, the offer is there.” He lifted his hands with a sarcastic smirk as if nothing had been mentioned at all, “No funny business I promise.”

“I’ve had nightmares since we got back, whenever I’ve drifted off...” I had the whole period of the games, I had the majority of nights to be honest, even now just over four years later I still saw the arena when I closed my eyes.

“Everyone has the nightmares, and any who say they don’t are lying.”

“You never seem to.” His smile grew much more sincere.

“I don’t make as much noise as you. I kind of...” he dangled his arms, looking thoughtful, “I don’t know. But I have them and I know how horrible they are.” I felt a stab of guilt as spiteful thoughts hit me.

By anyone’s standards Finnick had had the games so so easy, he’d been given everything he could want due to his beauty and charm. He just trapped the others and killed them almost easily, the golden trident that lay propped up in the corner of the spare bedroom the most expensive gift ever given they said.

That wasn’t fair, everything since had been far worse for him than that week in there and I was so horrid for even looking at it in that way.

“I’ll stay...” I popped my lips, “If you cleaned the second bedroom.”

“Of course I didn’t, what do you take me for?” I managed a smile at his teasing, “You’re the neat freak.”

“I’m the everything freak.” My voice wasn’t even hurt, just truthful. His grin fell and I rushed to rise it. “Sorry...that was a bit pitiful...I was just being dumb.”

“Don’t call yourself dumb, you’re one of the smartest people I know.” Him trying to make me feel better failed as much as it succeeded usually.

If I was that smart I would have found a way to move on, to keep my family together. I was twenty now, most girls I knew from school were married, or on that way. They were happy, I went to their weddings, I smiled.

I suppose they were my friends, but to some of them I knew it was just the title, the unwanted celebrity a Victor held that made them so falsely kind to me. The same with men, most of them anyway.

I still went with it sometimes. Just to feel wanted.

Finnick had managed to keep me from a lot of what he went through, but not even he could go against Snow and there had been occasions, horrible threatened occasions that made me even more wary around people than I had ever been. I sighed, he was staring at me, trying to make heed of what was going on inside ‘that oddity that my head was’ as he called it.

“I’ll stay wherever.” I sighed, giving in to the purse of his lips.

The smile was back, “Come on up then.”

Of course we ended up in his wide silk laden bed. Although on opposite sides, a cocoon of the cover caught around me by the time I woke up, his arm was lazily slung close to me. We wanted it for different reasons, the sense of closeness with no sex.

I wanted the comfort, just the feel of another person I trusted. Knowing he was there helped me sleep, at the start, when I had first returned I almost let anyone fill that gap.

It was something for boys to brag about at school, on that docks that they had fucked a Victor.

My brothers hadn't been happy, but even then they refused to stay longer than a couple of nights, staying half awake to tear me from my nightmares as the screams took over. They both said they couldn't bare it.

And with Finnick, well I suppose it was nice to have someone there who wanted him for anything but his body. Not that, the cruel little voice in my head reckoned, I would ever turn him down.

But he would never suggest it. In amongst what happened at the Capitol, if he truly desired it he could have anybody.

I doubted there was a person in Panem who would manage to turn him down.

But he didn’t seem to want anybody.

Least of all me, I was sure I was enough effort for him to continuously look after as it was without complicating it with any romantic.

I was also fairly sure I’d mess it up terribly, do something a girlfriend wasn’t supposed to. I hadn’t had a boyfriend since before the games. They, the whole experience had damaged me more than people seemed to think.

To many I had been the perfect manipulator, I’d gotten in with the districts from One and Two. I’d done everything Finnick had told me not too in the end.

I made separate deals with them, offered to betray them all behind their own backs. In the end they turned on each other and I just had to stand back, help a little. Keep my face blank and uncaring although my heart felt like it would explode.

Except with Tyger, from One.

His death was the most prominent in my mind, it still stung whenever I thought of it, the blood dripping down, the burning in my leg and hands as I clung to him.

That had been my redeeming moment, as far as many people were concerned.

But others still mistrusted, distrusted me. I’d been persuaded to re-watch moments of my games one night over the winter when I had caught it, unable to sleep. I completely understood how I came across, for the majority I seemed cold, uncaring about the death that surrounded me.

That I assisted with.

I rolled onto my back, lifting my arm up so my hand tangled in my thick mass of hair. It still felt soft from the work done in the Capitol, the complaints of the beauty team who sorted me out as well as the female tribute. Alata. I should always refer to her by her name.

I glared hard at the small clock on the wall, it was only five am, there was another couple of hours I could waste in sleep. If I could manage to get there again, and it seemed unlikely.

I was trying to think of what I could say. We’d spent more time on the girl, you had too, you could only have one winner, as sick as it was you picked that person early, spent the most time on them.

As Finnick and Mags had done with me. Either way, she was foolish, no match for the girls from One and Two.

I hated thinking about it all and curled onto my side, studying Finnick in the weak light until he woke up about an hour later.