Inhale

The giggles and splashes are the most joyous sounds I’m sure anyone around the Victors Village has heard in weeks. I want to enjoy them, and in short bursts I do, my nieces splashing around delicately. Thom is holding Samos, his tiny fists hitting out at the water as his cousins and older sister flounder around.

“Aunty Elenia.” I tug myself, as always, back into the moment, pushing off the rocks on one side to meet her. “Annie.” She grins, treading water carefully. “What’s up?” She’s the eldest, coming up on eight, not that I’ll be here to see that. In an instant, with that one poisonous thought rattling in my head I’m cold, my arms and legs are lead and I let my feet land on the sandy bottom of the pool, the water darting up to my collar bone.

She doesn’t seem to notice anything, although her words become a blur to me. It’s the unmissable truth, I will not be here to watch any of them grow up. But if I don’t go; if I don’t try what will they grow up into? What will become of our home, of the whole of Panem.

My worst fear up until the announcement of the quarter quell was that it might involve them. If we fail there’s still a high chance of that. They love nothing more than sending in a child related to a previous tribute or victor. It drives the Capitol citizens mad.

“Aunty Elenia.” I move my limbs again, pushing from the ground, “Is Finnick not coming then? Mummy said…”

“He’s busy sweetheart.” I replied, my mouth thick with the lie and the reasoning behind it. She observed me for a moment, head slightly tilted. “Okay.” She popped, ducking under the water and reappearing with a fake roar and a blur of white teeth. “I’m a shark!” Her young sister squealed, paddling less confidently towards the tiny promenade. I watched Rita scold her daughter numbly, the lack of Luka evident more than ever.

Numb, I was just watching the last few days of my life pass. Trying to scramble through the fear to hold something coherent, to enjoy any moment.

Something clicked.

“Where are you going?” Thom called, watching me run a towel over my body, grabbing and wrenching my thin dress down over me. “I…I need to speak to Finnick.” His grin increased and I felt like swearing at him, even as the swarm of butterflies danced through me.

What was I even going to say to Finnick? Sorry would be optimum obviously, I had to apologise for freaking out twice, not hearing him through. I had to try and make him understand what had just made sense in my head. I had to…

Instead I practically head-butted him as his front door swung open. “Sorry.” I breathe, quickly taking a stride backwards and almost catching myself on the low stone steps. “Think I’ll live.” He brushed across his cheek, where wet splattering from my hair lay. “You’re…damp.”

“Yeah,” My voice still sounds breathless, airy, “We were er, swimming.” He nods slowly and I felt like I could practically drown in the awkwardness. “Where are you g…going?”

“Mags.” He said simply, “There’s a little show down at that theatre pit later, I said I’d…” he finishes lamely, “take her…”

“Ah.” Everything I’d been thinking of saying is floating from me. “I was coming to erm, talk if you wanted too, I mean.” My words are coming out too fast and I feel myself getting flustered, “About yesterday and how I acted and I owe you an apology and…” He hasn’t moved; that perfectly blasé look is holding still. There’s that familiar tingling sensation of humiliation biting over me but I try and finish on a somewhat competent sentence. “I am very sorry that I reacted like that. It wasn’t fair.” He ran his tongue over his lip in that intoxicating way.

“Don’t worry about it.” I wasn’t sure what I had been expecting but it certainly hadn’t been such a light-hearted response. I felt my mouth open but slammed it shut. He obviously read my facial expression completely wrong, “I’m not mad Elle honestly.” He beams, smiles at me like he doesn’t have a care in the world. I almost wanted him to be annoyed at me, upset at how I’d acted; it would be more genuine.

“No.” I said simply, finding it difficult to control my temper already, “Sorry, no. I…I want to talk to you, please don’t just brush it off.” The smile waned and fell. He hid the hurt that flashed over his face well but a new wave of guilt flooded my stomach. I’d barely thought about how anything that had happened could have affected Finnick, in fact, I’d been so sure that it wouldn’t have. This was Finnick, he was cool headed, level. I had never even considered that my feelings were at all reciprocated, that had always seemed laughable and just the day before the dark voice in my head had taunted me that he had known all along it was a mistake and I had just been a regretful distraction.

I don’t feel like that now looking at his face. He’s tired, barely looking in my eyes when normally eye contact is something I can’t escape from. “I’m not sure what you want me to say Elle. I thought you wanted your space and I…” His hand rubs over the back of his neck.

He’s hurting too. Through the fog of confusion in my mind, there’s one pinprick which is clear.

Whatever my feelings are, they are not the only ones mixed up with us. Whether he’s hurting because I spoke so harshly to him which is something I have never done before, or whether he feels an ounce of what I do towards him it’s something. It’s more than something.

He kissed me and I reacted terribly and ran away. I kissed him and then he stopped, there could be so many reasons for him stopping us there before it got any further but all I had considered was my own embarrassment. I choke on another apology and he can easily see my distress and invites me in, softly closing the door behind me. My hair is still soaking, and I can feel drops sinking into my dress; droplets form a small puddle on his wooden flooring. For once he looks as lost for words as I am, he looks despondent and that’s my fault

“I’m really sorry.” I hardly breathe the words but he glances at me before returning his gaze to the opposite wall. “You have nothing to be sorry for.”

“Don’t do that. I do. I acted like a complete…” I can’t think of an appropriate word and gesture, “I am sorry for freaking out…twice and I am really sorry for not letting you speak and being just….horrible.”

“You still sorry you kissed me?” He leaves a long pause before he speaks and I recall the cruel way I’d spat the words at him last night.

“Are you still not sorry it happened?” He chuckles lowly, although there’s no humour in it and rubs his hand over his cheek, still avoiding my eye line. “That depends very much on how this conversation goes.” The look on his face makes my chest ache.

“W..What does that mean?”

I know exactly what he means and he speaks practically the same words. “We’ve got eleven days until the reaping. We’ll just pretend none of this happened and we can...”

I cut him off, “I don’t want to pretend none of it happened. We do that all the time and you’re right. We’ve only got days at home.” I can tell he wants to interrupt and launch into another ‘let someone else go’ speech but I don’t give him the chance.

“I’m not sorry I kissed you. You asked why I did it and I did it because I’ve wanted to do it for ages and I just…” I suck in one cheek and this time I’m the one looking away as his eyes land on me. “I’m sorry you stopped and I don’t know why you did but I just assumed that you’d got carried away or you realised it was a mistake or you didn’t feel like…”

“Feel like what?”

I risk looking at him. “You know.” His lips curve properly this time and instead of the fear I thought I’d feel when I made my feelings clear I want to laugh. There wasn’t the instant look of disapproval I’d always feared and his smile was for me, he wasn’t mocking my admittance. He pushes himself off the wall so he’s in front of me. There’s a stretched moment of silence again and I can feel my heart hammering against my sternum.

When he speaks there’s that rare serious tone in his voice, but also a hint of tentativeness. “Can I kiss you?” It takes a couple of seconds of me gulping like a fish before I force out one singular word, “Yes.” He pushes a wet strand of hair back out of the way and leans in slightly.

“And you promise you won’t run away?” His voice is back to its playful purr and I find mine, my whole body is rigid with anticipation but his teasing makes me laugh a little as I promise not to.

My reward is his lips pressing against mine and his hand grazing down onto my neck.