Godforsaken

Our relationship is broken up in increments of progress and regress. I know it’s not his fault. He was willing to stay with me all night and kiss every single tear that trickled down my cheek. I, however, was too scared. New things weren’t easy for me to adapt to.

His kiss was still lingering on my lips. I could still remember how he tasted and the way his rough palms had breezed over the skin of my face. A second was how long I'd been prepared to let it last. But Finnick had slid his arms around my waist so tightly I could do nothing but whimper against his mouth. My head told me to let him go. He’d broken my trust with dishonesty. But my heart was aching so bad with the need for him to be with me.

I’d asked Beetee how one is supposed to choose which one to follow, but the old District Three genius had just smiled at me.

“That’s cheating,” he’d murmured.

He’d reached over to smooth down my frizzy hair and lovingly pecked my forehead.

“You have to figure this out on your own, my darling.”

So that’s what I’m trying to do now. Everything is logic to me—or it had been, till the golden devil had sashayed into it. Now it’s a tangled mess of heat and fear and swollen lips. And I don’t know how to navigate in such a state. It wasn’t like the Games. In there, everything was planning and perfect timing. There is no such thing as planning when it comes to Finnick Odair, and perfect timing is out the window when you’re living in a war.

Now, as I lay on my side, facing a metal wall that makes up my new room, I try to picture how things would be if I let Finnick call me his. I think it would be nice. Of course I wouldn’t really know what to do and he’d have to let me find my way…But I think it’s something that a person like me needs in their life. I’m too hard, I know. Finnick is soft and warm. I need some of that, desperately.

I wonder, though, if he’d be able to peel back the layers of protection I’ve wrapped myself up in. He’d almost begun to unravel me before, during the Quell, but that seems like years ago. Too much has happened and I’m colder than before. It won’t be a simple fix that he can cure with his skilled hands and perfect body. Like everything else when I’m concerned, it’ll take time. I cannot be rushed.

Will he wait for me? Will he be patient with me? I know he’s already endured too much at my expense. I don’t know if he’s already reached his limit.

These questions and doubts push at my brain till I’m shoving myself up and looking through the halls for his room. I don’t want to wait anymore. I want answers. I want to ask Finnick. This won’t be like the Quell, where I didn’t know anything. This time I will be upfront and speak my mind. I won’t be scared.

His room is the last in a hall that a Thirteen inhabitant points me towards. I listen for a second to see if he has company and only knock after I hear nothing. A second or three passes as I shift in the hallway. I glance around in search for anyone else who is lingering around, but there is no one. I wonder if it is late into the night.

“Kara.”

The sound of my name diverts my attention back to the door. Finnick is now there, halfway leaning out and grinning a little. I almost blush.

“I…”

I swallow and form a fist. Finnick notices but does nothing. He just furrows his eyebrows before leaning in closer.

“I want to talk to you,” I manage out.

He nods. “Yea, sure. Come in.”

The room is decorated lightly with a few photographs. I see Mags and smile lightly while approaching the frame. The old woman is trying to slink out of the picture, but the person behind the camera has grabbed her hand. She looks happy and young. Swallowing hard, I try not to think about how she died.

The other pictures are of people I don’t know. I won’t ask now because my brain is too occupied with other thoughts, but I make a note to bring it up later.

“You alright?”

His breath fans over the back of neck, alerting me to how close is. But I don’t jump away. Instead, I sink back into him a little and reach for his hand. I can feel how much this surprises him. It makes me feel bad.

“I’m fine,” I whisper. “I just have something to ask you.”

Deciding to turn around, I try to smile lightly at him. It doesn’t seem to work, however, and Finnick’s expression just becomes even more worried.

“Okay. Ask me, then,” he says.

I nod and draw in a deep breath.

Before I can talk myself out of it, I let the words roll of my tongue.

“Will you be patient with me?”

I am disappointed at how weak my tone is. It wavers too much and is so quiet that I wonder if Finnick even heard it. When he just stares at me, I sigh.

“I want you. I really do. I just… This is new to me. Before… I didn’t realize we were something,” I say softly. “I don’t know how to be with you and… And it’s going to take some time. But I want to try.”

My chest is supposed to feel lighter, I think. I’d just admitted something that had been weighing on me ever since he’d explained his actions. I feel heavier, though, like I’ve swallowed a bunch of rocks. The feeling makes me frown a little.

Finnick tucks a finger underneath my chin and tilts my head up. I hadn’t realized I’d been staring down where he was now gripping my waist.

“Kara, I’ll wait as long as it takes,” he whispers.

I almost cry. The tears pool in my eyes and I try to shut them so they don’t fall, but the actions just seems to make them swell up bigger.

Gently, I press my forehead against his and smile. I laugh, too, because this was a lot easier than I ever thought it would be. He’d just gave me the answer I’d been fearfully hoping for in a matter of seconds. Just like that. Without any kind of back thought or terms he’d want me to follow. Finnick had just given himself over without so much as a guarantee from me.

He must love me. That’s the only explanation I can think of. And it makes me slam my lips against his passionately.