Inhale

The sand was warming up nicely under the bright sun. By midday it would be uncomfortably hot. It was getting towards the end of July so that was no surprise. I hitched the bag over my shoulder up a little; it was very light, close to empty with just a couple of small trinkets. More than trinkets. I carefully made sure they were both still within the sandy fabric.

“What do you have in there?” Finnick asked, shovelling the last of the bread he had brought with him in his mouth. “You’re acting like you’re carrying explosives or something.” I pulled a face at him, tugging my sunglasses over my eyes. “They’re...” I felt that awful sticking feeling in my throat and had to force the word out, “Not for you. Don’t worry about it.”

“Why,” His own eyes narrowed suspiciously, “Is it food?”

“Is that all you think about?” That was clearly far from the truth as any slight look at his figure revealed. But he always had a time, once we were back when he indulged a bit more. I didn’t blame him whatsoever for that. I was just surprised he never sank deeper, he always seemed to be coping. And that always made me very jealous. “Obviously.” He drawled, before grabbing out at the strap, he was too slow and I jerked away easily. He rolled his eyes playfully at me before holding up hands in some false move of surrender.

The quiet fell back over us, but as we drew nearer to the harbour the typical noises struck loud and clear. The majority of fishing boats were gone by now, they left far earlier and would be miles off shore. But people were on their way to the factories where packaging and sorting took place, children ran along the paths carved in the low cliff walls to school. I’d finished school, as well as I could, once my games were over, simply for a sense of something to do, something to occupy my mind. That hadn’t been a fun experience when much of my first year back was spent a step away from another panic attack.

“Did you go back to school?” I asked, there would be little context for him but he answered fluidly, “A little. Just for more basic stuff. I actually had a tutor for a while.”

“I bet that was fun.” He didn’t answer; it had been a rhetorical comment. He spoke next, “You know, if you still want to say whatever you planned on this morning you’ll have to be quick. It won’t be long until we’re there.” We had started the ascent on stairs carved into the glowing cliff wall. “What?”

“Do you want me to start by apologising?” He held open the gate, allowing me to step onto the main promenade of East Harbour. It was the second largest harbour and the closest we had to a true town in Four. There were several more, but houses were spread more, little villages and settlements where people worked. We didn’t have much reason to move around much, only the poorest did that.

“That depends what you’re apologising for.” I’d left more than a natural pause before responding, letting myself linger in my thoughts. This was a sympton of the arena as well. Finnick closed the gate behind me and I slip my shoes back on, dusting sand from my feet. He caught me before I could get any further, spinning me so I was facing him. “I am sorry Elle. I didn’t mean to upset you.”

“I know.” I pursed my lips, finding it hard to meet his eyes. “I had everything planned to say but...”

Someone walking past called a loud ‘Hello’ to Finnick and he leant around me, plastering on that wide smile and lifting his voice. I took a second to run through the mumble of words in my head, everything I’d wanted to say. It failed, as it often did and when he was back to paying me his full attention I was struggling to even speak. “I get that Sen-" Don't use his first name in front of people, "Crane...I know that...eurgh.” I wrenched my back. “I’m not mad at you. I was mad at myself and Crane and that we failed again!..” The hysteria is growing in my words and I can feel the volume lifting, the shake forming.

His finger lands so gently on my lips I barely feel it but it has the wanted effect and I hold them together, now breathing heavily. I can see a few sets of eyes aimed our way and Finnick twists me so I’m facing the sea again. I’m aware of his words, trying to soothe me and stop this embarassing display. His arm around me allows me to press my forehead onto his collar bone until I’ve calmed enough to and shove my sunglasses back up behind my fringe. “Sor-“

“Don’t.” I’m dabbing under my eyes, hoping to catch any make-up before it stains my skin and his thumb helps, tracing over my cheek. “I’m sorry, alright?” I nod and he gives me another second although I can see his eyes straying, no doubt up to the large clock that adorns the tower of the Justice Hall. “How are we doing time wise?” My voice is a little croaky and I clear my throat, hide the evidence. “We’ve got a couple of minutes. Do you want me try and cancel, I’m su-“

“No.” I raise the word to cut him off. “No, we’ll do it now. We need to.” He nods, although there’s trepidation in his eyes. I know it’s a fear of me breaking down again, worse, how I used too. I'm much better now at putting on a face when it's needed. “I’ll be fine. Promise.” I force some sort of smile although I imagine it looks more like a grimace and he does the same, shifting over to grab my hand softly, the way a mother does with a child.

“We’ll talk later okay? Properly.”

“I don’t know if I want to Finn. Not again, or...” I gesture, “Properly. I don’t want it lingering.” I didn’t want deaths lingering on my conscience. I cursed myself for my selfishness. He checks me over again and I force my lips into a wider smile before he seems to give in and decide I’m as good as it is going to get right now. I don’t drop his hand away, on the contrary I hold it tighter, slip my fingers through his and relish the feel of it, such a simple gesture. He doesn't shake me off.

The bag slips on my shoulder a little and bumps our forearms. I can feel the question before his mouth opens and pull him to a stop next to one of the many netting equipment stores. The interest on his face grows as I dig through the fabric, gripping the golden shell necklace and the marble, slipping them into his palm.

Lines appear instantly on his forehead, “How did you get these?” His large fingers hold them delicately, running his thumb over the ridges in the necklace. “I had to clean them both, I didn’t think I could give them back...” I leave the end of the sentence unspoken. I couldn’t give Tali’s mother her necklace coated in blood.

“How did you get these?” He repeats again, finally dragging his eyes from them. He knows the answer, just wants confirmation. I sigh a little, his gaze is making me feel guilty, “You know how.” He waits for me to continue. “I wanted to give them to their parents. I just suggested it and...” I shrug like it was no big deal, although it had been anything but in the end, “I asked S... Crane.”

His smile is bittersweet as he places them back into the satchel, “I’m sure you did.”

The meeting had gone as well as it ever did.

Tense, full of tearful faces and siblings bad at hiding their anger. It was just odd where their anger was aimed. It wasn’t so much at us, some of it was but the tokens had had an effect on the mothers I hadn’t seen before. Just having that small object their child had held and cared about, it hadn’t appeased them by any means but it had stopped them in their tracks and I’d never seen such an odd mixture of grief and pride. I’d let Finnick do most of the talking, it was easier and he was able to put things in a way I never could. He had a natural raport with people and I was just me. Tali’s mother hugged me tightly before they left, her broad arms making it hard to breathe. “I know you did all you could.”

She didn’t know anything and I was struck with how little time I had spent with her daughter. I did the basics, but every evening I was off, I wasn’t there for them. The evenings were the hardest for everyone in the centre, if a tribute was going to break down it was then. And it was prime time for Finnick and myself. Crane was around in the evenings mostly, in the break between planning meetings and going home to his wife. It was harder to predict once the games themselves has started, his free time depended very much on how the children fighting for their lives were doing.

Finnick said our final good byes to the Mayor and we were off, weaving past the ever growing number of peacekeepers.

“You said people fell for Katniss and Peeta.” I accused as soon as we were out of earshot. “But they were angry, at the Capitol.” I realised I’d left my bag in the hall and paused for a moment, deciding it wasn’t close to worth it, not when I had such pressing questions. “Do people think like that? On a bigger scale?” He ignored me, speeding up his footsteps. I would have been worried he was leaving me behind if his arm hadn’t snaked around my hips. “Finnick...” He swiftly pulled me to the side, close to the trees decorating some shop fronts as a car went past.

That was quite unusual in itself, cars were used for long journeys, and there was not even a true road through East Harbour, it was a maze of cobbles. I let my eyes stick to the vehicles as it roared past, catching the white and understanding instantly. “More peacekeepers.” I hissed as if he hadn’t realised. “Why do we need more peacekeepers? We hardly ever have...”

“Elenia, shut up.” I was too perplexed to be offended and did as he said although now I was taking time to look at people’s faces as they walked past, to notice the mood as many shopkeepers shot a nervous look out of their front window and closed their doors far too early in the day. There was a sudden stillness, and a thick cloud of tension sank over the usually lively area. I’d missed something, in my three days locked away in my house. “What happened?” I blurted, forgetting my agreement of silence. His jaw tensed and he lowered his voice although there was no-one close to us and we darted down a wide alleyway. I watched him stare until the car had dispatched the white coated men and they had entered the Justice Hall.

“Nothing has happened...”

“Then why...”

“Nothing has happened yet.” As his hand wiped over his forehead I noticed a thin sheen of sweat. “Hopefully they’re just being overcautious.”

“Of what?” He looked at me like I was stupid and I lifted a brow, however true that thought may have been. “Look,” we started down the alleyway now, looping onto a less disturbed street, “You were right last night...” he glanced around, “About not buying it. They did, in the Capitol, some did but there are already murmurs...”

“Murmurs?” This he didn’t explain and he didn’t had to. Katniss had shown that there was a way to get around the Capitol, and I knew there had been a small revolt in Eleven when Rue had died. That much hadn’t escaped me because it was something Seneca had to attend a meeting about. The feeling was turning, people were starting to realise that maybe there was a chance something could be done. It couldn’t, the Capitol had made one mistake letting her live. They wouldn’t make another.

I said as much to Finnick and he nodded, “They see it as an act of defiance towards the Capitol that Twelve has gotten away with.” I didn’t ask how he knew, he always seemed to know something.

“But they’re still alive?” I tested him gently, “If she is still alive then it can only be a mood, people won’t react too much...like you said...they’ll create a Martyr if they kill her and...”

“Exactly.” He obviously thought he had won, “Which is my point now as it was last night. Nothing to worry about so long as that doesn’t happen.”

“But they’re acting like it might.” The street was staring to come to life again but we had almost reached the cliff top, “Snow’s scared.” The thought seemed impossible, ridiculous, but it had to be true. “He’s scared people will take advantage of this and do something.”

“Not with about five times as many Peacekeepers as usual they won’t.” He concluded, ending our conversation.

I was glad I’d managed to take off my skirt. It would have been a pity to have gotten it wet, and Luine, my stylist, would have been furious. That being said my shirt would suffer, soaked in sea water, and caught up in clumps of sand.

I kicked myself back into shallow water, simply letting the tide drag me towards shore and Finnick. I stop myself, hands pressing into the sand. “You look like a well dressed mermaid.” I giggle in the most girlish way, unable to stop myself and starting to shift so I could sit beside him when instead he grabs me, not roughly but hard enough so that I could feel each individual finger tip on my cold skin and trails me back, letting the water help until my back was against his bare chest.

I was glad he couldn’t see the dark blush that spread up my cheeks. I was so acutely aware of every part of his chest pressing against me, the white shirt that was plastered to my skin now sticking to his. His hand moved from its position across my ribs and lifted up a few tendrils of hair, moving them aside so he could see past me. He's warmer than I am, and I can feel that body heat ebbing into me. My blush fades and I allow myself to relax into him.

“Finn...”

“Mmmm.” His cheek brushed against the side of my head gently and I was aflame again instantly, “Er...I...” I had to clear my throat again, “Are you worried?”

“About what?” His face moved back.

“Everything.”

“Always am.” His honesty made the butterflies in my stomach drop, and nerves set in. “You think something is going to happen because of the games?"

“I think so.” I ran my tongue over my lower lip as he answered, tasting salt. “It might not. I could be over-reacting.”

“Maybe.” I tried to soothe, moving my hand to lay it on his knee. The fabric of his trousers was almost black, and I could only imagine how heavy they were. His hand skirted over my own briefly, “You’re cold. Come on. We should get back anyway.” I nodded, I was cold and my fingers were aching. “Although I still think a swim was a good idea.”

“I didn’t say it wasn’t a good idea I just said I didn’t want you to throw me in and ruin my clothes.”

“Well you got to save the skirt so all in all-“

“Yeah,” I breathed, feeling tired quite suddenly, “Brilliant.” I went to stand before I realised again exactly what state of undress I was in. My bra was extremely visible through the top and my skirt was several feet away on the sand leaving me in my underwear. He sensed my discomfort and stood, gently using my shoulder as a prop before returning to the shore and shaking himself dry, a little like a dog. Against myself I feel my lips widen, and found myself enjoying the view a little too much as he pushed his hair back. The sun had started to retreat behind dark clouds and I knew before long we would be expecting a storm but weak rays still struggled through and seemed to catch on him.

The water on my face was starting to dry, making my skin feel tight. “Here.” I’ve spaced out, catching myself several years in the past when my skin had been tight from drying blood. He hid the caution on his face like an expert, so I had to imagine my own had been struck with horror. He was holding out his shirt and I accept it, the chill dancing on the increasing breeze. It was over-large of course, just skirting the top of my knees. The fabric was instantly tacky against my damp skin again.

“Come on. Before you freeze to death.” I let him guide me ashore and I slip my skirt back on, letting his shirt hang over it. My body is still full of adrenelin, calf muscles twitching. The relaxed sensation I’d had in the ocean, the only place I ever really felt so peaceful had vanished utterly.

“We should think further ahead next time. Bring towels.”

“It was your idea.” He grabbed at the fabric around his ankles, trying to relieve some of the water. I felt as cold as the ocean had been, and it was a struggle to keep my teeth from chattering. “Right as ever.” He glanced upwards, “And I think you were right about the storm as well. Let’s get back before it starts raining.” I nod, and we plod along the sea front, shoes in hand and sand trapped uncomfortably between my toes. Even Finnick’s mood had dropped and I had to wonder if that was to do with me and my episode on the water. He waited until we were only a few hundred metres from home. “I’m going to my sister's tomorrow.” I stop my mouth from falling into a frown.

I hated it when he wasn’t here but I nod, make sure I don't let that show, “How long for?”

“I’m not sure yet,” he pushed his hair back, it was drying a little, the bronze colour slowly emerging, “Probably a week, maybe more. I haven’t seen her in a while so...”

“Yeah. Of course.”

“And you’ve got your brothers coming up haven’t you? They normally do after...” I’d half forgotten about my brother’s phone call the day we had arrived back. I’d been too out of it, still coated in the stench of the Capitol and trapped in my head. “Yes, they’re coming Sunday. Both of them and all the kids.”

“You’ll have a busy house then.”

“I guess so.” The same could very rarely be said of Finnick. He had more friends in the District than I did, or at least people he was closer too, actually bothered to remain in contact with properly. But he lived alone, his first and only rejection of the Capitols' wants for him had ended with his parents dead. His sister was older and was already married and moved away by that point. She was scared to return so Mags had taken over the role of his family. My own visited several times a year, back and forth when they could persuade me to leave the Victors Village. It was harder going to Luka’s, he now owned the house we had grown up in and there were memories of my Father everywhere.

And my Mother well... she accepted the money I sent readily enough but there was no real relationship there, no bond other than sharing blood. She was my mother and for the last several years she’d been little better than a stranger. I knew some of the fault lay with me but I was almost numb to it.

“Come on,” filtered past my ears and I blinked back into the world, seeing I was still walking, just about, but my eyes were firmly plastered on the sand. “Before we end up getting swept out to sea.”

“Sorry.” He, as always, barely seemed to hear the word and continued, matching his pace to mine. I wonder how long he had spoken before realising I wasn’t able to hear him. “So... how long are they staying, do you know?” It certainly seemed like he was repeating himself.

“I never know. Depends if they managed to pull any favours at work and get some time off.”

“Always the way.” He mused, although neither of us had really ever worked a hard day in our lives.

Our houses came into view just as raindrops began to fall, “I hope it’s not too bad a storm.” I complained quietly, more so to myself than him. “Well, it’s the right time of year for them isn’t it? And I don’t think there were any when we were away from what Mags said.”

Mags. That was why he had brought up his trip away. “I’ll keep an eye on her. When you’re with your sister.” His smile was that sincere one that always made me feel like I’d said the wrong thing. “Make sure you look after yourself too.” He caught my chin gently, making me nod as if I was a doll. I tug myself away and his expression turns sour for a moment, he wipes it away. The rain is worse and we dart under his porch. That was an element my home lacked. “You have anything fun planned for this evening?” I shot him a look and he chuckled, “Let’s do dinner.”

“I haven’t got much...”

“Mags has, she suggested it. But I figured since you’re the A-class chef....” I pretended to sigh as if I was giving in when really the thought was a gentle flicker of excitement. “Fine, come over whenever. But make sure you bring everything. All I seem to have a lot of is jam and fruit.” He grinned, eyes flickering down my front as he went to open his door. “Oh, sorry. Do you want your shirt now or...”

“It’s just a shirt. Keep it.”

“I’ll wash it and bring it back.” I promised, earning that little smile again, though it fluttered and died as a loud crash of thunder echoed in the sky. I avoid his eyes, he knew how I felt about storms. They reminded me of my games. “I’m going to get in and shower. Just let yourself in. Bring Mags.”

“Aye Aye Captain.”