‹ Prequel: Suffocate
Status: Giving this re-write a go

Inhale

Flounder

It would be nice to say we sank into an inevitable bliss once feelings were out in the open. But then nothing in life happened as perfectly as the awful Capitol romance novels Luine adored.

The wooden border decorating his hallway is pressing into the middle of my back, and his lips, still fighting against mine are utterly intoxicating. His free hand was just starting to slide up my thigh and I’m practically quivering with anticipation when there are several loud thumps on the door. “That can’t be Mags.” He groans, reluctantly pulling himself away from me.

“It’s not.” There’s another thump. “It’s my nieces, listen.” He pauses for a moment and then nods.

“I suppose I should let them in before they knock my door down.” His hands untangle from me and I hold back a little groan, already missing the physical contact. “Probably.” He grins, sauntering a couple of metres to open the door and making a big deal as the girls practically launch themselves at him. Not at all surprisingly they dote on Finnick.

“Girls,” I hear Thom before I see him, giving me enough time to rearrange my dress and hope that any flush in my cheeks has settled. “I said your Aunt’s house, not go and pester…” He stops just outside the door, Samos still slung on his hip. The girls are completely ignoring him, updating Finnick on every tiny thing that had happened this morning. Instead, my brother glances at me, his face inquisitive, I roll my eyes and his face lights up for a moment before he instead turns to Finnick, as if he’s never seen him before and he’s scoping him out as a possible threat.

“Really Thom?” I can’t stop myself and find several pairs of eyes piercing as I step forward, fidgeting again with my dress. He smirks, turning back to the children, “Now come on, if we want to catch the show we all need to get washed and dressed.”

“But Finnick’s going to the show too with Miss Tiera you said.” I couldn’t fight a smile, hearing Mags called by her full name was odd. “So, can’t we just go with them? You’ll come too won’t you Aunty Elenia? Uncle Thom said you were probably going to stay here but if we’re all going…” Three wide smiles greeted me. I pull a face, although Finnick turns and holds his hands in an open gesture, the edges of his own mouth raised.

“Do I have enough time to get ready? I know it’s only a little summer thing but still…” I point to my still dripping hair. “It doesn’t start until half one.” Thom assured me, “You’ve got plenty of time to sort yourself out.” There’s still a hint of a taunt on his lips but I ignore him. “Let’s leave Finnick and go home and get sorted then. Come on you lot.”

They all run off, Thom trailing as Rita and Phillus shepherd them inwards. I twist back to Finnick, “Sorry for crashing yours and Mags' trip.” He waves me off easily.

“It does kind of ruin my plan of hiding from you until all of yesterday blew over.” He leans against the outer shutters of his front window, “I’m real sorry about that.” I say dryly, trying to keep my voice straight. “All forgiven.” He assures me, leaning a little closer and pinching my bottom lip.

“We’re okay, right?” His hesitation is adorable, and I can’t fight back the wide smile that breaks my façade. When I speak I’m sure it’s the most confident I’ve ever been. “Definitely.”
___

Days slip away far too easily. We grow a little slack with our training but most of the time that barely crosses my mind. The only time that crushing fears build up is still late in the evening when for a couple of minutes at least I’m paralyzed with fear. Finnick helps with those, he murmurs comforting things, his arm pulls me tight into his chest so I can focus on the steadying beat of his heart whilst his other hand traces gentle patterns across my shoulder. The closer we get to the reaping the longer it seems to take to calm me down.

I feel bad for putting him through it, but he constantly brushes off my apologies. I suppose that’s a habit neither of us will break. Sometimes the gentle caresses and words are enough to help me drift off into increasingly fretful bouts of sleeping. Plenty of times they’re not and whilst Finnick gets comfortable enough to doze I find myself wide awake, the number of days burnt into wherever I look. The fear of failure suffocating. I force myself to think about other things, fighting through that imminent future and pressure the fear seems to put on my mind.

Everything leads back to the Arena in some way. I drag up old memories, my father before he died, silly moments from my childhood with the ever reluctant Luka stuck watching Thom and I. It may start with a smile but they always lead back to where we are now. My father dead, my mind rattled, my eldest brother murdered and the other mixing himself up in the same dangerous game we all were.

Thom isn’t dealing well with the countdown either, his face looks more strained each approaching day and I feel so guilty at the effect this is having. The variety of guests that continue to drop in doesn’t help, it's people coming to say what may be a final goodbye. For all they know, we could be watching others board the train to the Capitol but their naivety only makes these short visits more painful.

I’m sick of forcing a smile. I don’t have to do that with Finnick. I’ve never had to, and even if I did he’d see through it in a second.

I push myself up on my elbows, he’s dozing again now and I’ve shuffled away slightly. As well as he hides it there’s panic forming within him as well and he only truly looks relaxed when he’s asleep. He’s brought up letting someone else enter the arena a couple of times over the last few days. I know he and Mags have some scheme. It’s serious because he used Mag’s age as a reason for her entering, as a reason against me doing what had to be done.

It’s the closest we’ve come to an argument since our conversation by his door. I still blush thinking about that and lament the fact that we could have never gotten to this point, I could have ducked out like I normally do and we could still be awkwardly plodding by, me loving him from the sidelines. never actually finding out how he feels.

There’s a big difference between loving someone and being in love with them.

It’s an odd realisation and it’s even odder to have felt that transformation over the last week.

Perhaps it would have been better for things to remain as they were, purely to avoid just how painful the situation will be. I’d raised that to Finnick and gotten a look that I was sure could have killed, why would anyone deny themselves any happiness he had argued. What was coming was coming and it would hurt no less with our feelings pushed deep down and hidden.

I’d kissed him them, to take the hurt look from his face, to show him I didn’t mean it and also just because I could and I absolutely loved it. I did the same those late nights when nothing else worked, sometimes I’d just kiss his lips lightly and he’d wake or sometimes I’d have a little more fun, run my hand lightly down his chest whilst landing gentle pecks down his neck.

He’d always wake up with the same murmur, stretch so his golden skin was taut over his muscles and then I’d completely lose myself to him.
___

“Do you know what you’re going to wear?”

“That box in the corner is from Luine.” She stands, heading over and opening the package I’d neglected for close to a month. “There’s loads of bits in here.”

“Luine just sends me whatever. She might have a note on a dress or something but she thinks I wear the stuff she makes pretty much daily.”

“Must keep her busy.” I pull a face behind my sisters-in-law's back. As far as I can remember she’s never actually met Luine. “Not like she has anything else to do,” I say a little more harshly than necessary, ripping the brush hard across my scalp. “Is there a note?”

“Wait a second…” I watch her pull out several large bags no doubt full of ridiculously expensive fabric. “Oh, here we go.” She leaves it folded in half and brings it to me. “Have you heard from her?” I scan over the short few lines, Luine's usual advice. Wear something light, accentuate your eyes, make sure your hair is neat enough and wear heels. There’s a scribble insinuating I wear a certain pair.

“Not allowed contact outside the District still,” I say blankly, although I’m sure if she pushed her luck Luine would be able to call me, but then why would we? We’re not friends, she dresses people ready to die and that's exactly what I am, I just happen to be the person she’s been dressing for longest.

“I’ll pick something in the morning,” I promise, passing Rita the note. “It’s late anyway, you should go to bed.” I know there’s a distinct reason that even with Finnick about there’s been one of the three of them with me all day. They’re scared I’m going to snap again and I know Rita has told my brother about the scar on my arm and how that came to be. “I’m fine, honestly. I’m going over to Finnick’s in a bit, I just wanted to sort out some bits.”

I was putting together particular items that held memories or some significance. I’d piled money into the lavishly decorated wooden box and told Rita and Phillus to take whatever clothes they liked. To their credit, they’d neither looked nor taken any.

The items in the box were all silly little things, old pictures and some belongings of my fathers I had left. Stuff that was meaningful to us but all but worthless on a wider scale. As long as Thom and the others were safe that would be enough, the rest Snow could burn to ash if it suited him. “Are you sure?” I nod again, letting her hug me and watching her retreat from my closet-turned-bedroom. I’ve spent every night at Finnick’s and tonight, my last night in the district will be no different. It probably shouldn't be, but I'm going to struggle and I would rather Finnick hear me than the children.

We’ve been bombarded with people all day, Andromeda came over to thank me again with a gorgeous cake just as a token. She said she could never repay me. I pretended not to see Mags' expression at that point. The whole day had been so busy I was still spinning from it, we’d eaten together, laughed, tried to make the uttermost of it. Even the little ones knew something was wrong now, and Annie had spent the day with a confused look on her face.

It was nearly over now, close to eleven and half an hour since I had practically dragged Thom up to his bed. He’d grown more snappy and twitchy as the day went on and it had been starting to aggravate me. It was wrong, to spend any of this precious time annoyed at my brother but I couldn’t help it. Several deep breaths and I open up one of the large wardrobes, digging through for a bathing suit. I’d agreed to meet Finnick down at the pool, the tide starting to come in now.

We weren’t going to sleep well tonight. I changed, grabbed a towel and slipped on another of Luine’s dresses. Fiddling again in the desk for anything that would be of any comfort to my brother. I found myself opening one drawer I hadn’t touched in months. It was where I had crammed all of the small gifts and bits of jewellery Seneca had given me over the years. They were all beautiful, each worth more than someone would make in a year of hard work. Probably worth more than people in the poorer Districts would make in their whole life.

They were pretty, silly little things like he had wanted me to be.

I closed the drawer again and left my house to meet Finnick.
___

He was already in the water, moving with that easy grace he’d always held. I used to joke he was at least half merman and it fit him well.

“Finally escaped them?” I’d not even noticed that he’d fully resurfaced and was wading over to me, my legs dangling on the pier. “Just sent Rita to bed.”

He nods, leaning back so he’s floating. “And are you coming in?” I can’t stop a smile, biting my lip.

I go to push myself in, shrieking as he lunges forward and grabs my ankle, causing me to topple on top of him and into the inky black water. When I resurface, splitting out water he’s holding his nose, voice a little muffled, “You broke my face.”

“Oh give over.” I tease, paddling over to him and pushing my soaking hair back. “Here,” he lets me pull his hand away, “You're fine. Not broken, still as pretty as ever.”

“You may have lost me sponsors.” He is still joking but he’s mentioned something relating to the Quell, we’d promised not to, at least not today. “Sorry.” He’s seen me wince but I shake it off, kissing him quickly and swimming backwards out of his reach. He composes himself and his mistake is pushed to the back of our minds, at least as far back as it can go.

We flounder around for a while, now familiar kisses stolen until he pins me against one of the sandy banks and it grows more passionate. It’s the best way I can think of ending what may well be my last night here. His palms, rougher than my own, hold me upright as I wrap my legs around his hips, keeping my body as close to his as possible. It’s cold, being in the water so late into the evening but my desire for him and the way his hands dance up my sides removes any sense of it.

I am immune to everything but his touch and the delicious sounds he makes as he finally frees me from my bathing suit.
___

I shower again at his house, and he joins me as had become habit. I don’t complain, even with tiredness making me feel heavy. I have a limited amount of time left with him, and I want every moment.

I want to remember the way his eyes darken as they scout over my naked body, I want to feel his chest against my back or admire the way the water turns his blonde hair a light brown and the drops trickle over his lips. He’s as enthusiastic as I am and the next couple of hours are a blur of ecstasy until we finally find ourselves in his bed, the fire still burning softly and my lips swollen.

“You don’t look like Blithe.” He mumbles, close to sleep as I complain. I let the joke go when I realise just how soon I’ll be with my prep team. The fear starts its usual paralyzing route up my body and I try and stop it, tucking myself into Finnick’s side before it can take over.

“G'night.” His weariness is evident and I keep my worries to myself for a change. I wake up several times in the night, dread setting deep in my stomach and horrible images breaking through my dreams. A couple of times Finnick is already awake and he holds me until I stop shaking so violently. He doesn’t ask and I pretend not to see the sweat beading on his forehead which tells me his own nightmares have made an appearance.

We play this mummers false until I wake up once again, fully, with light breaking through the window. His arm is wrapped tightly around me and I have a blissful few seconds until I recall the day. I try to move gently, my throat is so dry it hurts but I end up waking him and he yawns through my apology. I watch the realisation strike him as well and his face tightens.

“Hey.” I offer lamely, manoeuvring to take a gulp of water and passing the glass to him. He drains it and lays back, fingers tracing those familiar patterns under my ribcage. I take the glass from him, leaning over to reach the table and moving back slowly so my breasts brush lightly across his chest. He lets me kiss him, even lets me straddle him but I can tell sex isn’t an option for distraction this morning.

Instead, I rest my cheek on his chest and try to find some relaxation in his breathing. After a few minutes, he interrupts the silence, “Are you showering again before Naloh gets here?” I groan, sitting upright, pretending not to notice the way his eyes linger on how much of me is exposed.

“That depends on how bad my hair is.” I raise my hands to try and rake through it, I grimace, “And it feels bad.”

“It doesn’t look brilliant.” He admits with ease, his thumbs on my thighs.

“Luine told me to make sure my hair looked alright. I’ve got loads of serums at home, I should shower there.” There’s a look on his face I don’t fully catch because it’s gone so quick. “And I mean, Thom’s probably freaking out and…” I don’t want to leave him any time at all but I know I have to. This may be my last day at home with Finnick but it isn’t my last day with him. It is with my brother for all I know.

That tightens my resolve but when I try to get up his grip tightens and moves up to my hip. “Do you have to?”

I’m a little surprised at the childishness of his question and frown. “That’s not fair.”

“Since when is anything?” His face is deadly serious and I bite back my playful reply.

“Finnick, come on.” I go to move again but his grip doesn’t lighten. It takes me a few moments but I realise this is it, this is the most he will allow himself to break down at this stage. This is his version of that paralysing fear which has been haunting me for weeks. I place my hands on his, lifting both pairs gently and pushing forward so I’m essentially pinning him down, his arms over his head. I kiss his forehead, his head still messed up from last night and then his lips. “It’s going to be okay.”

His smile is cynical, “Yeah, you promise?” I ignore the sarcasm.

“Today.” I clarify, “Because we’re doing this a day at a time and today is going to be okay. I promise that and in,” I twist to glance at the clock, “four hours we’ll be on the way.” He sighs, using his superior strength to place me back upright, hitching his own upper body upwards so we’re the same level. He fiddles with one curl that must be particularly unruly and I feel myself blush at the intensity of his gaze.

“Don’t look at me like that.” I furrow my brow, “It’s really hard to talk to you when you pull that face.” I try to ask what he means, already sensing the familiar topic but he cuts me off, “Elenia...” he sighed and I felt my heart drop to my stomach, that tone was never a good sign. “Later on...”

“Don’t,” I command, feeling his hands holding me stuck tight again. “We’re not going through this again Finnick. I have lost count of how many times we’ve had the same stupid conversation.”

“It’s not a stupid conversation.”

“It is, and you’re not changing the outcome of it. Especially not now. Alright?” He huffs, goes to argue but stops himself. “And whatever little thing it is you and Mags have been muttering about can stop.” There’s a hint of surprise but he plays it well, acting dumb. I’m not willing to allow myself to be upset with him so I shake it off, “Do you want me to shower here?”

“In a bit.” He leans forward and catches my lips briefly, I sink into him. The day hits him again when his own are pressing heavy kisses on my breasts and I’m aching with the need for him, a ball of pressure forming. He stops and I whine until I see the pained look in his eyes.

I had been right, today isn’t a day when distractions like this will work.

“Let’s go take that shower.”
♠ ♠ ♠
Getting on with the story now! Been dawdling a bit too long in District Four.

Thanks acid_rain88 for commenting :)

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Much love.