Equilibrium

I paused in the hallway. There was something about the image in front of me that I wanted to save, to memorize. Finnick was sitting in my room, on the edge of the bed. He was dressed in the general uniform of everyone in thirteen, the blue standing out against his skin. He was slightly paler than usual, from the lack of sunlight down under the ground. His hair was so gold that it glowed in the dim lights of the room. He was looking at the floor, his hands nervously fidgeting, fingers twining together in patterns I knew were ways to make ropes.

Sometimes it was easy to forget how beautiful Finnick was. Not because his beauty ever dimmed, or because it could be tarnished, but rather because beautiful people weren't supposed to suffer. The beautiful were supposed to be draped in jewels and the finer things. They were supposed to drink glittering drinks and smile and never feel the cold knife of grief.

Finnick was denied his right.

Sensing my presence, Finnick looked up. His eyes were dark and swimming but his lips curved upwards, a foxish twist to them. I smiled back and entered the room, closing the door behind me as he rose from the bed. “Why are you grinning like that?” I asked lowly as he stepped to me, hands going to my hips. Warmth jumped between us. “Like you’re in on something I’m not.”

“Let’s just say I did some bartering to get myself here for the night.” His voice was low and scratchy. I dipped my head to hide it in the crook of his neck, where his pulse was strong and he smelled of the strange soap in thirteen. I missed the smell of salt and sun on his skin. “And it was certainly worth it.”

“What did you barter?”

“One of Coin’s commanders is from district two. I knew some things about him that Coin may not like from his past.” My laugh was rough. Being that close to him made me feel better than anything. It was rare that I was allotted these moments, to wrap myself in him. Now I had a night. “He convinced Coin and Marlin that he would stay on watch near the room.”

“Wasn’t it you who told me that secrets become us?”

It was his turn to laugh. He picked me up by the waist and spun me around and sat me on the bed. It wasn’t particularly soft, but it was better than sleeping on floors and trees in arenas. Finnick loomed over me and ran his hands up my sides until he stopped, holding my face in his palms. They were rough like driftwood.

“They do.” The sly grin returned. “Do you have any secrets you can give up?”

“I can think of one.” I reached up, pulling Finnick’s lips to mine. He tasted like Finnick always did, like salt and something fresh. His thumb brushed across my jaw, making me smile into the kiss. “I’m in love,” I breathed when he pulled away. “That’s my secret.”

“Dangerous one. You should never show your heart to anyone.” He pushed me down onto the bed and climbed on top of me, hovering over me. He kissed down my neck, nipping the hollow of my throat. My skin was on fire with the sun inside of Finnick. “They might tear it apart and smash it.”

“What about you?” My hands tangled in his shirt, winding in the fabric. He kissed back up my neck and hovered his face over mine. His nose was pressed against mine, lips barely touching my skin. “What are you going to do now that you’ve seen my heart?”

“Make it mine.”

Before I could give some snarky remark back, Finnick’s lips were on mine. They were like an inferno, roaring against my skin as he kissed me hard. There was no art form in the way he kissed me then, and I kissed back with the same amount of fire, no fluid movement in the way I kissed him.

Finnick’s hands pulled at the buttons on my shirt. They yanked at my shirt, trying to touch my skin through the fabric, desperation sparking them. My hands were no different, untucking his shirt with savage force. I tasted his laugh on my lips.

Every time I kissed Finnick was different. It always felt heated and rough, like two waves smashing against one another. But it was never the same kiss over again. This one had me burning down to my core, like hot sand scorching my beach as I ran on the beach.

Shirt gone, Finnick kissed down my chest, his tongue tasting my skin. I felt like my back couldn’t remain on the bed, my spine arching with every touch of his lips. It was impossible to sit still underneath his skilled touch. Every single place our skin made contact, my nerves were jumping, my body was singing.

Somewhere inside, I knew this was because Finnick was skilled at making people feel pleasure. He knew what he was doing, where to touch someone, how delicately to do so. But I knew better than to think of it that way. Finnick had never touched someone the way he would touch me, and he would never feel the same way about kissing someone else’s stomach as he did when his lips followed mine.

Fingers dancing alone the waistband of Finnick’s pans, Finnick hesitated and looked up at me. The entire depth of the ocean was in his eyes. “Are you…”

I grinned. “Do I do anything I don’t want to do?”

“Well…”

“Shut up, Finnick.”

With another grin he relaxed into my touch. The bed was small, but we were both nimble and fierce. I flipped him under me, straddling his waist and pinning him down. I looked down at him, shedding the shirt that he had already undone. His hands roamed my skin, memorizing my curves like memorizing ocean swells.

I clawed as his shirt. His chest. His hair. Any part of Finnick I could touch, I did. My fingers pressed into his shoulders as he sat up, handing pressing my spine to push my chest to his. He unhooked and tossed the bra I was wearing to the other side of the room. I barely heard it hit the floor.

My heart hammered in my chest, ringing in my ears. My blood was rushing through my skin as he kissed my chest freely. Gasps left my mouth as his tongue flicked lightly across one nipple, his thumb brushing over the other. Why something so delicately done made me feel lightheaded was beyond me.

A tangle of limbs and a muffled laughed made up our twined bodies as he laid me down, my head at the foot of the bed. He looked down at me and crawled down my body, kissing down the length of my stomach. His rough hands pushed my knees. My brows knit and I looked down at him in alarm, grabbing his hair and pulling him up. He laughed and I shivered, his warm breath hitting me.

“Relax,” he said lowly. I couldn’t look away from his eyes, completely entranced. “Do you trust me?”

“Yes, but that’s… odd.”

“Tell me if that’s how you feel later.”

For the first time since walking into the room and into his arms, I felt unsure. I knew Finnick made an art form of all things sexual. He had learned the hard way and he had to figure out the way it worked. There was a slight edge to my nerves, unsure of what to expect.

They vanished the second Finnick ran his tongue up my center. My hands knotted in the scratchy sheet under me, squeezing the fabric at the feeling of his tongue tracing up and down. It was hard to breathe for a moment, completely taken by the feeling of his mouth.

Without clear thought, my hands stretched down to his hair again. Instead of pulling him away, my fingers tugged at the silky strands of hair. I needed a firm grip on something, because my body felt like it wasn’t connected to the earth. My entire body was trembling and my legs twitched, trying to pull away slightly, barely able to stand what he was doing to me.

Finnick’s hands locked my hips against the bed and he laughed. The sound against my skin made a loud sound escape my mouth. A chorus of breathy moans and gasps were falling out my mouth. I couldn’t stop if I wanted to, not when I felt like I was about to completely lose my mind.

Knowing exactly what he was doing to me, Finnick added a finger. One of my hands ran through my hair, my chest rising and falling at a rapid pace. His finger thrust in pace with his tongue, hitting a spot that made his name come out between my clenched teeth.

It became harder to breathe and remain still. Finnick handled my hips without a problem. I no longer paid any attention to him securing me down. It suddenly felt like I had been hit with a bolt of lightning, my entire body shuddering an alive. No sound escaped my lips, but I gave a strangled breath.

Nothing had ever felt like that. Not when I kissed Finnick, not when he touched me, nothing. I was panting, my body slightly sore from clenching my muscles repeatedly when Finnick lifted his head. I glanced at him and he smirked, licking his lips.

“Don’t even go there.” My voice was scratchy. “You can do that any day.”

“Mhmm,” he hummed. He kissed a hip, tugging his hands down. “I wouldn’t mind.”

Chewing on my lip, my eyes next left him for a second. I drank him in, studying ever curve of his body, ever scar on his skin. There was a thin white line on his chest, a knife wound from his games. A small, pink burn mark on his hip from bumping into a grill cooking fish. A tiny imperfection on his lip from my fist hitting his face while having an episode before going into the arena when I was younger.

Every single one of the small blemishes made him beautiful. I shook slightly, a bundle of nerves. He looked down at me, no smile on his face, but rather an expression that was soft. He leaned back over me pressing his lips once to mine. It was brief and soft. One hand trailed to hold my face delicately, my fingers linking at the base of his neck.

“Like I said,” Finnick whispered. “Making you mine.”

My nails dug into his neck as he dipped his hips forward, thrusting slowly. He paused, letting me catch my breath for a second. There was a dull throb but it was replaced as Finnick set a slow, deep pace. I couldn’t keep my hips still, and even though I wanted to open my eyes and look at him, I couldn’t help the fluttering of my eyes or the way my neck arched backwards.

Breathing was hard as I moved my hips. One of my legs wrapped around him for leverage to angle myself. He made a sound low in his throat that lit me up from the inside out. My hands pulled at his hair, my teeth pulled at his lips. My hips mimicked his, still slow but finding out his rhythm. It wasn’t hard, for us. We moved like the ocean: slow, constant, rhythmic.

“Finnick,” I mumbled against his mouth. I felt him smiling against my mouth. He grabbed me by my hips suddenly and rolled backwards so that he was sitting and I was in his lap. The new angle made me catch my breath. “Oh.”

He kissed my jaw and put his hands on my hip, moving them. “Move like that,” he said softly. “Waves against the shore.”

Hands on his shoulder, I steadied myself. It took a few minutes to figure it out, but Finnick’s hands were on my hips, guiding my movements. I tossed my hair over my shoulder. My hips moved smoothly, like it came naturally. Finnick let me control the pace and depth, which I was grateful for.

My shoulders and my collarbones were peppered with kisses. Finnick looked up at me and I looked down at him. My breath was still shaky but I grinned at him. “You’re beautiful.” His voice was deep. I hummed smiling. “Do you know how beautiful you are, Lana?”

“Tell me.”

“Like the stars.”

Hands on the small of my back, Finnick took over my movements again. I moaned loudly. Not once did he force my hips down farther than I could handle. Not once did he make me move quicker than I could manage. All he did was touch me gently to move one way or use his hands to angle me. Every change in movement felt better than the last.

Like before, I felt like I was being charged with electricity. I buried my face in his neck and he wrapped his fingers in my hair. My named rolled of his tongue as I clenched around him, holding my breath for a moment as I continued moving my hips, though my rhythm had broken slightly.

A few seconds more and Finnick shuddered under me. My movements slowed until I stopped completely, panting heavily. Finnick was also short of breath, his small exhalations hitting the side of my neck, making my hair shift slightly. I pressed a kiss on the side of his jaw and he nuzzled into my hair.

“I want you to know,” he said slowly. “Never have I done it like that with someone, ever. I never go slow and it never… means something to me.”

I pulled away, my hand cupping his face. My thumb brushed along his bottom lip. I could see how earnest he was being in his eyes, and I had felt it every single time his skin touched mine. “I know. My heart is yours.”