Suffocate

The rays of weak light broke through his open window, and the sounds of the birds started around the same time. I could imagine them, stretching their wings as they took flight. I pushed my feet further towards the bottom of the bed feeling the pressure in my knees vanish with two loud clicks.

Behind me he shifted slightly, he twisted, body curling against mine unconsciously. Either way the movement and way his arm draped naturally over my waist, thumb grazing my hipbone made my body tingle.

The peace didn’t last long, and those first few seconds of grogginess were broken when I remembered the evening before. The upcoming future.

I felt my body go rigid and instinctively I tucked my knees up under my chin, try to keep my head balanced, look at it objectively. Not to let my emotions hit me and take over. I wasn’t sure how well it worked and I let out a shaky breath. His fingers tightened on my thigh as he mumbled something incoherent, clearly waking up himself as he turned onto his back.

My body instantly felt cooler and I missed his touch.

I was so pathetic.
Finnick had a one in five chance, twenty measly percent. He wasn’t going in there with me. It was so highly unlikely.

I’d be fighting to the death with someone like Tobias.

He yawned loudly, sitting up and resting his head in his hands, his knees pulled up. “Morning.” I offered weakly, my voice and throat seemed even worse today. He muttered it back, flopping back into the pillows, “How you feeling?” I rolled to face him, offering him a pathetic half smile.

In less than three months I’d be dead.

I knew that thought wasn’t going to leave me. If anything I may as well count down the days, it was the kind of order and control I liked. Not that I had any here.

He smiled back more sincerely, reading my mind in that easy way he did, brushing hair from my face. “You don’t have to assume the worst.”

“Yes I do.” I shuffled to my knees, pushing the windows open further, his large shirt brushing across my thighs. “I’m being realistic.”

“Well don’t be.” I moved back, folding my legs under me. “I know what you keep saying but there’s still a decent chance...”

“No there isn’t.” I breathed, watching as he lay back down and mimicking him. He rolled onto his side, elbow propping up his head, there was a slight grazing of stubble appearing. It was odd, I wasn’t used to seeing him with any at all. He also looked so preened and perfect.

“There’s isn’t a chance either way, we both know that. There’s no way I could win.” His jaw tensed.

I didn’t apologise.

“You won before.” He pressed carefully.

“Because I had help for the majority of the games. I didn’t have to do much until the end.” I didn’t dare blink, it would scar the inside of my eyelids.

“Because you were resourceful, and so so smart.” His gaze wouldn’t release mine, “And you’re good with a spear and sword, you can climb, you do knots, you can fish...don’t undersell yourself.”

“I haven’t done anything with weapons in years.” I argued, “And unless the arena is one giant pool the amount of swimming I do won’t help.”

“Endurance.” He answered instantly, “And we have two months until the reaping.” I ignored him, clambering over him to get to the tall glass of water, relishing it sliding over my sore throat.

“We? Y...You want to train?” I asked, a little confused.

“We’re Careers aren’t we?”

“No.” I snapped instantly, twisting to face him, watching as he removed himself from the twisted body of the covers, his own was hardly covered, just some shorts that had ridden up his thighs. I found it hard not to let my eyes track over him. “I’m not doing that again.”

“It would be the smartest thing. All of One and Two will have been doing training just simply for fun, you have to look at it like a mentor.” I rolled my eyes.

“I’m not going too survive unless I have someone like Tyger, or Jaxus. Don’t kid yourself because I’m not.” He frowned, “And I have,” I worked it out quickly, “fifty eight days until the reaping, here, at home. I need them.”

“You think if it was the other way around, Andromeda would volunteer in your place to keep you alive?” His voice was a bitter sting, sticking in my skin. “Because I’m not sure she’s all as unselfish as you think.”

“That doesn’t make any difference to my decision.” I half lied, my mind already trying to work out if he had a point, to hunt for any signs. I would tell her anyway, tell her she had nothing to worry about. She’d survive this, she’d have her family.

“Really? Because I think that’s a load of bullsh...” There was a creak in the hallway, “Mags.” He seemed to suddenly remember, “I’ll get her home, it’s early, go back to bed.”

I sighed, “I won’t sleep...and I’ve made up my mind.”

“So have I.” His hand cupped my chin, thumb pulling my lower lip down gently and making it bounce back up as he moved away. I felt my face flush, glad he had left the room, was talking comfortingly to her. There were only so many days I’d have left to spend at home, with my brother, my friends...even though I had neglected them all for weeks.

Two months with Finnick.

It was just another sign of how warped I was that it hurt more to think of never seeing Finnick than any of them. But he’d ‘made up his mind’...about what?

I was fearful that what struck me first was right.
But a part of me felt a hint of relief.

That was the selfish part wasn’t it? That selfish and self absorbed element of me.

My teeth dug into my lower lip and I moved back into the bed as he had instructed. It smelt like him. I ignored the want building within me to straighten the sheets, tidy up the shelf on the opposite side of the large room. He was such a typical boy, boy. I snorted at myself he was twenty four.

I was twenty, although I still had no idea how that had happened.

He was back after about fifteen minutes, smiling, kicking off sandals he must of pulled on downstairs and climbing in beside me, the cover pooling around his still uncovered torso. I didn’t approach it for a few minutes, enjoying the rhythm of his breathing, the way the cover tugged and slid over me as he shuffled.

“Finnick?”

“Yeah.” I kept my eyes on the photograph close to the window, my nerve faltered, “Who’s the girl in the picture?” I felt him roll, warm breath appearing on my shoulder as he looked at it.

“Never thought about it, I just liked it.”

“Maybe you just liked her.” It was only really her back, her long blonde hair falling in gentle neat curls I had only dreamed mine could achieve. She looked tall, slim and curvy. I was jealous just looking at her.

“Maybe.” He mused, “Whoever she may be. I don’t think it makes much difference now.”

“I guess not.” My lips felt dry, “Mags alright?”

“As if last night had never happened. I think she wants us over for food at some point.” I nodded.

“Well, I won’t be eating at home for a while.” It took him a second to catch on.

“You and Rita will make up.” I spun, flat on my back so he was hovering almost over me.

“You hear what she said?”

“Not really, just shouting.” He pouted, “What did she say?” His brow furrowed. I tried desperately to avoid meeting his eyes regretting mentioning it as the argument rang in my ears.

“Am I selfish and self-absorbed?” He laughed for a moment before he must have seen the look spread over my face and shook his head instantly, “You’re planning on possibly volunteering yourself to go back to the one place we all have nightmares about.” His hand danced around my face again, laying my hair out like tendrils of seaweed across his lush pillow as his voice suddenly gained conviction, “Although that won’t happen.”

“Don’t.” I muttered, pushing hand away and lifting my head up, the hair falling back behind me. “I...” I glared out of the window, feeling tears prick at my eyes, “I think if I handled it all better Luka wouldn’t have done what he did, and he’d be alive.”

“Is that what Rita said?” His voice was cold in an instant.

“No,” I lied, although she had paraphrased it, “I was just thinking...”

“Well don’t. Clearly it isn’t helping.” He smiled at me gently, as if it was funny.

“Stop it.” I said, “Stop just...making shitty jokes about it!” He leant away from me, and a minute passed before he spoke.

“I don’t know how to deal with it.”

“You’re Finnick Odair, you can deal with anything.”

“Not quite.” I didn’t try to decipher his words, his tone. I just lay back down, shuffling back into his chest, his arm hesitantly laying over me again. “Tomorrow, we’re going to start training. Eating right, all of that.”

“Why?”

“One third and one fifth remember?” I felt my jaw jut but didn’t say anything. I wanted to enjoy him for the day, and for fifty seven more.


I never questioned what he had meant that morning, not as they slid by, full of high protein meals, training as much as possible. Everything from stretching to using the spears at the beach to knife practise in his basement. I felt my confidence grow a little.

"I've made up my mind."
"Me too."

If I had known this in my own games I wouldn’t have needed any manipulation whatsoever.

But this wasn’t children, far from it. I was terrified of who would be selected from One and Two and Mags had dropped by one afternoon with several tapes and a large book naming all of the victors and giving a bit of back story into their games.

I had my epiphany on the evening on the twenty first day, watching a segment of her posing in wedding dresses. “She’s the only girl from Twelve, isn’t she?” Finnick yawned, taking a large sip of milk, a purpling bruise on his bicep I had apologised profusely for, “Yeah, only ever been Haymitch.”

“So this is to kill her?” His eyes narrowed slightly as mine widened, “It is, isn’t it? What happened here, what must have happened elsewhere is all to do with her. He wants to kill her, we spoke about that, but he can’t publicly you said. An...and this is the perfect way, and it stops the same happening with any other victors, doesn’t it? Fuck.” I exclaimed, pacing on my feet as I rambled, slowing as another thought hit me, “And you knew that didn’t you?”

“Perhaps.” He lay one leg over the other carefully, ankle balancing on his knee.

“No, you knew something more you wouldn’t tell me!” He lifted a brow but for once I saw past the act. “After Luka died, I knew something was happening, that you had a secret...you knew about the Quarter Quell, you knew what it was going to be!” He didn’t deny it, “Why the fuck didn’t you tell me?”

“I only knew about a week before...and I didn’t want to upset you.”

“Because of a third right?” I scoffed, putting my own glass down on the mantelpiece heavily, “Who told you?”

“A friend.” The nonchalant tone of his words was infuriating.

“Yeah, bullshit. What’s going on Finnick?”

“I don’t know.”

“Don’t lie to me. You don’t do that!” I stopped pacing in front of him, my hands finding their way to my hips. I’d been a lot more vocal lately, it was something else I was training myself up on. My whole body ached.

“I’m not doing anything.” He stood, “So stop it.” I didn’t believe a word.

“Whatever, you be part of whatever little conspiracy you want Finnick. You see how well that worked out last time people did that here!” I slammed my hands to my mouth, horrified at my own words, that I had managed to use the death of my brother as an insult, against him of all people. “I’m sorry.”

I breathed, guilty bubbled in my stomach before it boiled over, burning me. “I shouldn’t have said that.” I shook my head, tears were swimming.

“It’s not a conspiracy,” he said lowly, rubbing my arm to let me know I was forgiven, although I hated myself for each word that left my mouth, “It’s a plan, and I only know a bit about it.” I nodded eagerly, although his body language was still too closed.

I’d been reading anything I could get my hand on, medical books, herbs. It was useful and for a while it made the dark tugging at the back of my mind lessen.

“All I know,” Obviously another lie but I wanted him to tell me so I accepted it, “Is that it’s a way to end her, end us all. Stop there being another uprising...and...”

“And what?” I felt like my heart had slowed, my ears desperate for his words, straining so hard there was a slight ringing. “She has to stay alive, above all else.”

“She has to win?” He shrugged and I fell back from him, a little aghast, “What will her winning achieve? To drive people into properly rebelling?”

“I don’t know Elenia.” He spoke through gritted teeth. “That’s all I know.” I nodded slowly.

“So I have to ally with her, keep her alive as long as possible?” I felt much better about my skills now, but that was one hell of a task especially with some of the people that would be going back in there.

I’d have enough trouble keeping myself from being just another cannon shot.

His face changed and I knew exactly what I had feared the moment he had said 'me too' was right, “You’re going in, aren’t you...either way...you get picked or you volunteer?”

“You’re volunteering.”

“That’s different.” My own jaw set firm.

“It’s still stupid.” The nonchalant expression on his face, speckled with pity made my anger flare.

“And it’s still happening. But at least now I guess we can go in together and have a wonderful fucking time watching each other die!” He didn’t catch me this time and I stormed out of his home, my breathing rapid and through my nose, I was exhausted from my yelling.

It was unfair of me to be mad about him volunteering, whatever little scheme he was a part of was obviously important, whatever reason they had for wanting her alive. But he was willing to die for that to happen. Was that any more absurd than me wanting to die in place of either of them?

Andromeda's house was opposite my own, only one window illuminated.

Rita offered me a hello as I came in, watching the same ‘Vote for Katniss’s dress’ propo we had been.

We’d spoken, apologised, but it was still tense around us, there was always an awkward silence when we spent too long in the same room. “Night.” She called but I didn’t give her a reply.

I couldn’t believe he hadn’t told me, whatever it was. He’d lied blatantly to my face when I was convinced I had heard his phone ring, determined and I had let him talk me down, offered me an excuse I had grasped at because it was easier.

"You know all the lines were cut Elenia..."

He was going to volunteer.
Not only was I going to die, I was going to lose him at the same time.

I only prayed I went first.


He didn’t offer me any more information, just that regardless of if he was called or not he would be in there with me. Once my anger simmered, and after the first time I could remember of me actually shouting at him we settled back into the tiresome routine.

I was kind of glad I wouldn’t be alone I realised as time wore on, he was one of the only people I trusted completely.

But he was going to die.

He still had his trident from his game as a sort of trophy, I tried but it was too heavy for me to have any control over. I was better with the swords and daggers, even practising hitting a flock of birds with a slingshot. It was less successful but we had a few nights of various poultry dinners.

I was still counting down the days and we were into the last week. I felt less nervous, maybe it was because I had worried so long it didn’t feel real, like we were doing all this work and it was it.

It was the end goal I ignored.

At least we were properly acting as Careers he’d said grimly, earning a guilty smiled as I checked the seagull was roasting properly. “Is Mags coming over?”

“Andromeda is having her, she offered earlier.” He explained, that had been done as well. I’d gone over, feeling bad I had left it so long and telling her about my intentions. She burst into relieved tears, hugging me so tightly I feared I’d break a rib. Her family was forever in my debt she told me between sobs.

Finnick may not have believed she would have done the same in the opposite situation but I didn’t care. For that day I felt like it was totally worth it all.

“That’s nice of her.” I commented, taking a step back from the oven and fanning myself. It was particularly hot, summer came fast and lasted long so far south and it had been sweltering. I liked that about the basement, it was always a good few degrees cooler than above ground.

“I can’t stay too late.” I told him suddenly, boiling the vegetables, “Thom got here earlier and I still haven’t seen him.”

We seemed to all be ignoring the obvious, viewing it as a pleasant, typical family visit. Not my last week with them all before I was possibly gone forever. Possibly wasn’t right, there was one winner and I already knew who it had to be.

A shiver ran through me and a poisonous thought sunk into my mind.

Surely a rebellion could be encouraged without her, it didn’t have to be her, I could save Finnick, or myself.

Rita was right when she said I was selfish.

“You haven’t spaced out like that for a while.” I blinked back and spun, shrugging as I realised.

“Normally too tired or busy I guess.”

“It’s feels weirdly good, doesn’t it? To be doing something?”

I reminded him with more venom than necessary what we were preparing for, ending with my usual apology that he just didn’t seem to hear anymore. He stood, could he really expect, when it came to it, for me to allow someone to kill him?

I’d kill her before I let that happen, just out of instinct, loyalty.

I knew it was more than that even with how often I pushed the thoughts down. Pretended each time he touched me didn’t set my skin alight or make me want to press myself further into him. He’d always been touchy, it was how he was, especially over the years as we grew closer and I found myself relying on him more and more.

I felt sickeningly comforted he was going in there with me.

“Smells good.”

“Gotta have a talent.” I warped my voice into one similar to the Capitols high pitched curl, wincing at it afterwards as he chuckled, resting his chin on my shoulder, his fingers oh so lightly resting over my hip bones. I wanted nothing more in that moment than for him to slide them downwards but I broke it, stepping aside to grab some herbs and offering him a hopefully charming smile that probably came across as pained.

He didn’t seem to get the point, leaning as close to me as possible on the counter as he hopped up smoothly, popping some ridiculously expensive sweets into his mouth.

I didn’t know if he knew how he made me feel. Sometimes I felt like he was playing it up, seeing how far and uncomfortable he could make me just for his own entertainment. But that was cruel, completely unlike him. In between training I still cherished moments of normality, when we could just joke, when the lingering threat of the Quell could be ignored.

“These are good, want one?” I pulled a face, but nodding holding out my hand. He ignored it, leaning in a little and pressing the sweet past my slightly open lips, the citrus flavour burst instantly, as did the colour on my cheeks.

I tried to hide by quickly facing down, letting my hair fall like a thick curtain and blocking him, still grinning, from my peripheral vision.

He was definitely teasing me and I was falling for it hook, line and sinker.

“Q...quit being annoying and sit down, it’s nearly done.” He popped his lips but did as I said, making light conversation about what weapons to approach the next day, complaining about what a shame it was we had no bow and arrow. “Well, she’s the best with that isn’t she? If her games are anything to go by.”

We’d watched them, it wasn’t hard, re-runs and more versions of the best kills, the ‘victors specials’ were on almost constantly in amongst all the other rubbish they played all hours of the day. “Looks like it.” He was still so un-bothered, as if his upcoming death didn’t freak him out.

He was far braver than me, every night it still came to me, a tingle would start at the bottom of my spine as I tried to imagine it, not the pain, that was irrelevant, but the nothingness, the eternal darkness. No thoughts, no nothing. The tingle would always turn into a shiver, climb up my back and coat me until I would have to tell myself to stop thinking, to try and bring anything else into my thoughts.

A lot of the time I would have to get up, distract myself enough for a while before I could even debate trying to sleep again.

It still happened when he was there, but to less of a degree. Feeling him beside me, or even the dip in the mattress when he lay on the other end of the bed was enough to make me stop the feeling from hitting me hard.

I was sure the feelings had been there all along, at least the last few years. I had always thought he was beautiful, that was undoubted. But there had been the games, dealing with the games that had always kept my mind so busy, so uncomfortable and twisted.

It was so ironic the best I’d been in years was so close to going back to what had started it, and would end it.

"I wish you'd tell me what's really happening." I didn't turn to see how he had reacted, but he didn't say anything back.

I was silent until I had served dinner, and even throughout, letting him do the talking as he was used to but it never touched on anything half serious, anything in the future. Every time I looked up he was glancing at me in some way. And every time it made those butterflies emerge. It was a girlish, almost pathetic thought.

I knew of several girls in several places he’d...known in that way, not rather recently but I suppose he was preoccupied. He was probably irritated I was taking up so much of his time, even now.

They had to leave him alone this year, his adoring fans in the Capitol, they couldn’t come to the trainer centre, the public weren’t allowed. So I suppose that was a saving grace, that that part of it was over.

I was stupid to get caught up on such things. Least of all him.

I lifted my plate up, scraping the scraps into the bin and placing it by the sink, absentmindedly setting the hot water running. “I can wash up, it’s my house, remember?.” He had that element of a tease in his words again.

“Oh, yeah, of course sorry.” I got a glimpse of his eyes rolling as his plate met mine. “What time should I be around tomorrow?”

“Your brothers here, see him.” I chewed on my lip, waiting until he caved, “We’ll go swimming around lunchtime, you can make it more of a family thing then.”

“When are you seeing Bathilda?” I twisted, his body again close by, trapping me between it and the worktop. “The day before the reaping.” They’d never been that close, because she didn’t understand it, especially not what he went through each summer out there. I knew it was wasn't a wide awareness it was forced.

But not anymore. They wouldn't do that this time.

Instead we were just planning on dying, so long as we kept the cold little girl from Twelve alive.

I wanted to keep myself and Finnick alive, and I’d do all I could to ensure that.

“Okay, I’ll...erm...see you then then.” He nodded, wiping his hands on his tank top. There were still slight sweat patches under his arms and I imagined I looked the same.

Probably a lot worse, even on my best day I’d still look like shit compared to him.

I groaned a little at my vanity under my breath, turning and picking up my trainers, sitting on one of the lower steps as I put them on, he padded over, leaning on the banister. “Feel free to come over whenever you want.”

“Okay.” I smiled, my feet ached the moment I stood again. My whole body ached actually and I was desperate for a long hot shower to relieve my muscles. I felt my hair again, sticky with drying sweat. I must look a state.

I left it, going to leave and tripping stupidly, catching myself awkwardly and needing his help to get up. “Good start isn’t it?” I blushed, “Sorry, I’m okay.” I felt like an idiot, but his hands gripping my hips again to keep me upright made me flush more, placing my hands on his to remove them quickly and save more embarrassment.

They moved themselves, but not off of me completely, they slid to my face, holding it still as his lips lowered and pressed gently against my own.