Chapter Text
Three weeks go by far faster than Annie could've ever imagined.
Annie can't say she's surprised. She just didn't think they'd go by this fast. Finnick's anxiety has been ramping up by about a million in the last few days, and Annie's been doing her best to keep his mind off of it all. She's not sure if it's really been working in a way that matters, but she's been trying, and she fully plans to keep doing that.
She guesses that maybe it doesn't matter that much, because today's Finnick's last day in Four for however long.
Annie watches as Finnick sits across their table from her, his head firmly lowered, very obviously staring at his food rather than eating it. Or even pretending like he's going to.
“Hey,” Annie says, keeping her voice soft. Loud enough to make sure he actually hears her, quiet enough to not stress him out even more. Finnick does look up at her, looking more exhausted than she thinks she's ever seen him before. “You'll be back in no time,” Annie assures him. “A few months? It'll go by way faster than you think.”
She reaches her hand out, resting it up on the table — an offering. One that Finnick takes, given how his hand is very quickly slipping into her own.
“A month and a half,” he murmurs quietly, tiling his head to the side. “Maybe longer if they decide to keep me there. I don't come back very often,” Finnick continues, his voice even quieter. “Maybe it was just a luxury.”
“You're a Victor,” Annie reminds him, squeezing his hand. “Maybe you can't make demands against Snow, but it isn't like you're traveling between Districts. You should be able to come back to Four whenever you'd like.”
Finnick hums quietly, dipping his head. “I wish that's how it worked. Would make everything a hell of a lot easier.”
“Figure it out, then,” Annie insists, not unkindly. “It's your first time back in however long. You haven't tried getting him to agree to let you come back more often,” she goes on. “You're smart, Finnick. You can work something out.”
Finnick looks back up at her, nodding after a second. “I'll try,” he assures her. “You'll be here when I get back, right?” He asks, and Annie can clearly tell that he's trying to make it a joke.
She knows him infinitely better than that, though, and sees right through his bullshit, just like she always does.
“You know that I will be,” Annie says, smiling at him. “You can't get rid of me that easily, Odair. I dragged you off of the beach — that basically means we're linked forever.”
“That's how it works?” Finnick asks, laughing a little, a grin stretching out across his face. “I guess that explains why you've decided to come and live in my house.”
Annie snorts, rolling her eyes as she squeezes his hand, a little harder this time. “Yeah, uh-huh. That's definitely it. Eat your breakfast.”
She doesn't move her hand out of his. Annie goes back to eating her food, smiling when she sees Finnick very clearly doing the same.
It's almost enough to have her forgetting the fact that he's leaving.
Annie’s going to miss him. She knows that already, given how she's been equally as upset about him leaving as he's been. She's gotten so used to Finnick's presence that the idea of him being somewhere else for however long is simply just fucking unappealing at best. It's about a million times worse that he's going back to the Capitol. And while Annie hasn't quite figured out where all of Finnick's problems stem from exactly, she knows that the Capitol is the reason they're there able to be happening to him at all.
She’s mad about him leaving. Far angrier than she thought she’d be. Annie knew that she was going to miss him, and she’s not surprised about the fact that she already does. But she’s angry too, pissed that all of this is going on and that the both of them are ultimately powerless to stop it. Annie understands how the Capitol works well enough, and her time spent with Finnick has only made her understand it more.
Finnick might be a Victor, but that’s only important when it comes to writing down his name as the winner of the 65th Hunger Games. He gets a nice little mansion that he can’t live in because he has to go back to the Capitol and put up with god knows what.
“Hey,” Finnick’s voice draws her out of her thoughts, his hand squeezing hers a second later. “You’re spacing off. What’s up?”
Annie sighs, rolling her eyes at how he arches an eyebrow at her in an all-too-similar fashion to how she looks at him. He’s gotten way too damn good at nailing all her looks and shooting them right back at her.
“It’s gonna be boring,” Annie starts, resting her chin against her free hand, tilting her head off to the side. “I don’t know what I’m gonna do without you here. There won’t be anyone to drag off the damn beach at three in the morning,” she heaves a sigh, grinning at the scrunched up look he gives her. “I’m going to miss you, Finnick.”
Finnick blinks at her for a second, though he actually smiles at her a moment later. “I’m going to miss you, Annie. And, hey. You were the one who said it’ll go by fast. We can’t both miss me.”
Annie laughs, shaking her head at him. “Whatever, Finnick. Do you want me to walk you down to the train?”
“No,” Finnick says, nearly immediately. Annie's a little taken aback by that, blinking at him. “Sorry,” Finnick offers, sheepishly. “It's not that I don't want that. I really do, actually,” he mutters. “But I don't...” he trails off for a moment. “I prefer you to be safe.”
“I'd be a target just for walking you down to the damn train?” Annie asks, arching an eyebrow. She believes him — the Capitol is a fucking cesspool. She just wonders why.
“You...” Finnick swallows, Annie can see his throat bob. He looks away, his jaw ticking just like it always does whenever he's upset with himself. “Yeah. Just, you know. Being around me is more than enough.”
Annie hums, squeezing his hand hard enough to get Finnick to look at her again. “You know that that's not a problem to me, right?” She asks, as gently as she can. “You're not getting rid of me that easily. You're stuck with me, remember?”
Finnick snorts, lowering his head. “Sometimes I wish it was.”
“Well, I'm stubborn. And they can kiss my fucking ass if they think they get to fuck with you through me,” Annie announces, leaning back in her seat a bit. “I'm picking you every time, Finnick. Too late to change that.”
“Annie...” Finnick starts, and Annie watches as he looks back up at her, his expression unreadable. “I’m sorry,” he murmurs, shaking his head. “For all of it. You’re too nice to me.”
“I’m just as nice as you deserve,” Annie disagrees, squeezing his hand again. “And that’s not something you can fight me over. And you also won’t win if you even try, just letting you know,” she pauses, not exactly wanting to get into an argument when Finnick is literally going to leave today, but she also doesn’t want him to sit in his own hatred for himself. “Do you think that I’m stupid?” Annie decides on asking, almost laughing at how wide Finnick’s eyes get.
“What? No, Annie, you know that I—”
“Okay,” she interrupts him, brushing her thumb over his knuckles. “And I’m sticking around for a reason. You don’t have to tell me just how fucked up the Capitol is, because I’m pretty sure I’ve figured that out, given how walking you to the train is apparently enough for them to want me gone. I’m not stupid, and we both know that. I’m not an idiot, and I’m not blind to all the shit the Capitol does. So there’s a reason for me staying with you,” she continues, slowly. “Okay?”
Finnick scrunches up his face, genuinely looking torn over that. She can see his other hand shaking just a little, though not for long, given how he quickly moves it into his lap. “Okay.”
“Okay,” Annie agrees, heaving a sigh. “Sorry.”
“Not your fault,” Finnick hums back, his voice quiet but not strained. “I guess I can’t be that surprised when you, you know,” he shrugs, flashing her a grin that looks real enough. “Knock some sense into me. Even when it hurts.”
Annie snorts, rolling her eyes at him. “I’m not trying to hurt you,” she tells him, meaning it. “Or start shit, really. I’m bad at not shutting up,” Annie helpfully informs the man, smiling at how Finnick laughs at that, throwing his head back as if it’s the funniest thing she’s ever told him. “I just like you, Finnick. And you have some shitty opinions.”
Finnick scoffs, but he’s still grinning at her. “I guess we all can’t be perfect like you, Annie,” Finnick says, his eyes sparkling when he does. He’s quiet for a bit, his face tensing up for a moment. “I should go. Might not lose the privilege to come back if I get there early.”
Annie heaves a sigh, slipping her hand out of his own just to push herself up to her feet. “You are coming back,” she says, watching as Finnick also stands. “I’m sure you don’t want me to paint your house while you’re gone.”
“You never know,” Finnick says with a shrug, raising his hands up as he grins at her. “You can do whatever you want, Annie. Honestly,” he starts, beaming even wider at her. “You’ve probably lived here longer than I have. If you wanna paint it pink, you can do that.”
“Who said it’d be pink?” Annie asks, arching an eyebrow at him. “Might paint it yellow.”
“Or yellow,” Finnick hums his agreement. “I like blue.”
“Really?” Annie asks, purposefully widening her eyes as she swivels her head around, scanning all the blue walls in his damn house. “I don’t think I’d have ever figured that one out.”
Finnick laughs, sheepishly dragging both hands through his hair. “I guess it’s a bit of a shocker. I’m sorry,” he says, suddenly sounding sincere. “To spring that on you. I know it has to be hard for you to take it. Or accept, really. I hope you can forgive me, Annie.”
“Shut up,” Annie laughs, planting her hand on her hip as she glares at him as hard as she can. She grins at him, ignoring the sharp, aching feeling that’s already settling into her chest. “You’re forgiven,” she eventually assures him, rolling her eyes at how genuinely excited he looks over that. “Are you taking anything?”
“I didn’t bring anything,” Finnick muses, tilting his head to the side. “I left everything in the Capitol. I mean,” he holds up his hands again, grinning at her. “I could just buy anything I needed, anyways. I hid money in your house, by the way.”
“Finnick,” Annie groans, rolling her eyes as hard as she can at him. “After I told you that I didn’t need that about a million times?” She demands, unable to even feign being mad at him with how he’s grinning at her, not looking even a little abashed. “I’m gonna kick your ass as soon as you get back.”
“And I’ll be looking forwards to every single second of it,” Finnick helpfully says back, beaming all wide. “Okay,” he sighs, looking down for a second. “I need to go.”
Annie nods, taking a few steps closer to him to close the distance. She wraps her arms around him, resting her head on his shoulder. Annie can feel Finnick’s arms close in around her, too. His grasp around her is tight, though she’s all very certain that she’s holding onto him far tighter than he’s holding onto her.
“You’re gonna be okay,” Annie murmurs against the side of his neck. “You’re gonna come back, and I’ll be here. I promise, okay? I’ll see you soon. It’s just a few months.”
“It’s just a few months,” Finnick quietly agrees, his voice muffled against the side of her head. Annie can feel him shake against her, just a little. She only holds him tighter, refusing to be the first of them to let go. After a few more seconds that feel like small eternities, Finnick pulls back first. “Thank you. For everything.”
“Always,” Annie tells him, reaching out to squeeze his shoulder. “I’ll see you soon, Finnick. Promise.”
Finnick starts to move to the door, offering her a small smile. “You will. I promise, Annie,” he pauses after he speaks, scuffing his foot against the ground a few times. “Bye — just for now.”
Annie laughs, so unbearably upset over all of this. “Yeah. Bye, Finnick. Just for now.”
And then with one last tight smile, Finnick dips his head and opens the door. As soon as the door shuts, he’s gone, and Annie is left alone, standing right in the middle of his stupid, too-big mansion.
It’s too fucking big. It was massive for the both of them, would’ve been massive for two and a half families. And it’s most certainly too big for her alone. Finnick filled this space in a way that Annie didn’t think was possible for anyone to. He was loud — his laugh echoed throughout the whole house. He’d talk so loud and wave his hands around with every story that he’d tell.
Annie used to be convinced he was just clumsy, but she’s all very certain that he was just playing it up so she’d laugh at him. He’d stumble over his own feet or trip down a stair or two.
He was so loud.
Annie breathes out, dragging her hands down her scalp, down her face. She doesn’t cry even despite the tightness in her chest and throat.
Annie stands there for a while longer, long enough that Finnick has to be on the train, or at least far enough away that they won’t spot each other. She stumbles out of his house, the key to the mansion heavy in her pocket. He made her a spare.
She practically runs all the way to her house—though she’s practically stopped considering it her home—and all but slams open the door. Her mom’s sat in the kitchen, and she barely even startles at how Annie almost stomps in. She doesn’t mean to be loud — it’s just that all of her movements feel so heavy.
“Finnick dropped by?” Annie asks quietly, barely managing to get the words out. Her voice feels so stupid, so quiet. All of her feels stupid.
“A few days ago,” her mom agrees, looking almost worried. “Annie, hon. You should sit down.”
“I will in a second,” Annie says, mostly to pacify her. “He, um. He left. Had to go back to the Capitol. He said he left something here? Did he give it to you?”
Her mom stands up, and Annie almost cries when she plants her hands down on her shoulders. “Hey. You’re gonna be alright, okay? I’m sure that Finnick wouldn’t want you to be practically passing out the moment he’s gone. Breathe for a second, Annie.”
Annie does, laughing at how fucking ridiculous all of this is. “Sorry. I’m sorry,” she heaves a sigh, resting her head against her mom’s shoulder for a second. “It’s just...I don’t know. I think he’s my best friend,” Annie mutters, heaving another sigh, trying to get her breathing back under control. She hadn’t even realised she was almost hyperventilating. “And I fucking hate the Capitol.”
“Can’t be surprised there,” her mom laughs, pulling back. “He left it up in your room,” she pauses, a sly grin stretching across her face. “He was practically shaking the whole time he went up there. He didn’t want to intrude. He’s sweet,” she adds on, smiling a little harder. “I’m sure you’re the bad influence between the two of you.”
Annie laughs, rolling her eyes. The imagery of Finnick practically tip-toeing around her room is enough to knock the air out of her chest, though she can’t help but smile. It’s all so painfully Finnick. “You can blame your six little boys for that,” Annie shoots back. “Especially Nate.”
Her mom simply raises her hands up, shrugging. “I didn’t tell them to harass you.”
“Whatever,” Annie snorts, feeling less like she’s going to cry. She squeezes her mom’s shoulder as she walks past her, heading into her room.
It feels almost unfamiliar. The bed being there is enough to make her chest ache again. The idea of sleeping in her bed, or any bed, really, is enough to make her feel weird. Sleeping on the floor of Finnick’s bedroom pretty much became normal to her within a day or two.
Annie easily spots the little parcel that Finnick left for her — it’s sitting on top of her pillow, a little bow wrapped neatly on top of it. Annie can’t help but laugh at how that’s also so painfully Finnick. She rolls her eyes as she steps fully into her room, picking up the parcel. As expected, as soon as she opens it, way too much money spills out onto her bed. Enough to easily feed her family for the rest of their lives, as if Annie wasn’t already doing that.
A piece of paper also spills out alongside the money, and Annie blinks at the very obvious handwriting on it. She tosses the parcel down, picking up the note. It’s folded up about a million times, which makes Annie roll her eyes again, though she can’t help herself from grinning at it as she unfolds it.
Hi, Annie
This was kind of a rushed decision, so I’m really sorry if you can’t understand any of this. But you’re coming back in maybe thirty minutes, and I write really slow, so I guess we’re both going to have to make do.
You’ll be reading this once I’m gone. I would’ve told you earlier, but I KNOW you would’ve wanted to read it, and I’m planning on putting it in the same box with some money. And I ALSO know that you’ll yell at me a whole bunch if you knew that I was planning on giving you money, so, you know. I guess it has to be a secret.
I’ll tell you one of my secrets in return, though. So don’t yell at me when I get back? Pretty please?
I’m actually afraid of lobsters, too. I got pinched by two of them at the same time when I was seven, and I freaked out so bad that I wouldn’t even step foot in the market for a month. Honestly, anything with CLAWS is just sort of awful. I used to have scars from where it happened, but they give you this “full-body polish” when you get to the Capitol. It gets rid of all your scars and stuff like that. But there was a scar on my left hand (by my thumb and first finger) and then another one on my right arm (close to my wrist). And they hurt, by the way. They hurt a LOT.
It’s not REALLY a secret, but I also caught twenty-one fish with my bare hands in one sitting once. When I was eleven, I got dared to catch a fish in my mouth. Which I also did, just by the way. It actually wasn’t all that bad. Would I do it again? Likely not. But I guess we’d have to see.
I love weddings, too. I really love weddings. I’ve tried to explain them to a bunch of the other Victors, and all their weddings are BORING. I don’t know how many weddings you’ve been to, but I used to sneak into any of the ones I saw happening. I really love them — all the dancing and laughing, all of that sort of stuff. I never liked how the newlyweds apparently got to “have” the ocean all night long, but whatever. I’m still not a huge fan of it, but I’ll throw less of a tantrum these days. Only barely, though. So just keep that in mind if there’s ever a wedding that we WILL be going to it.
Well, I’ve told you a bunch of mine. That means you have to tell me a bunch of yours whenever I get back. Those are just the rules.
Okay, I’m pretty sure that it’s been close to twenty minutes, and I’m NOT risking my life any more than I already have. I hope that I’ll be back soon.
I miss you a lot already, Annie :(
— Yours all very, incredibly, unfathomably, truly,
Finnick Odair
Annie only realises that she's crying when one of her tears hits the note. She very quickly tosses it onto her bed, stumbling back a bit as she furiously wipes at her face with the backs of her wrists. Goddammit.
She breathes out, pushing her hair out of her face. Annie sniffles for a second, doing her best to stop crying so she doesn’t accidentally ruin Finnick’s note. All of it is so stupidly him, and Annie thinks she should’ve known that he’d have been afraid of lobsters, too. All of it is so stupidly Finnick Odair, and Annie just wishes that he was back to stay. That he wouldn’t have to leave to go to the fucking Capitol and deal with whatever the hell it is that he’s dealing with.
Annie heaves a sigh, shaking her head to clear her damn thoughts. She carefully starts to put almost all the money back into the parcel, placing Finnick’s note on her bedside drawer. She also puts a handful of money on the drawer, rolling her eyes as she does so. She’s absolutely going to kick Finnick’s ass when he gets back. She’s sure it’ll make him feel normal, too.
Annie rummages around her room for a second, trying to find anything that she could put the note and money in. She ends up spotting a small bag that she must’ve gotten years ago, moving to grab it before she returns back over to her bed. Annie shoves the money in there first, carefully setting the note atop it. She zips the bag up, shuts the parcel, and grabs both of those things to head back to the living room.
“Hey,” Annie calls out, setting the parcel onto their kitchen table. She smiles at the stupid bow on it, thinking that that’s also such a Finnick thing to do. Annie’s already heading towards the door, watching as her mom makes her way to the table. “That’s from Finnick. Enjoy.”
She’s out the door in another second, laughing at the loud gasp she can hear from her house.
Annie keeps moving, finding herself in the market without even really meaning to have gone there. She figures that she’s just used to it.
Annie pauses for a second, eyeing one of the stalls that she usually ignores. She almost exclusively haggles and barters in the market for food or anything else her family needs. But her family is pretty fucking set, given how Finnick blatantly ignored her and gave her half his damn fortune anyways. Annie hums for a second, slowly turning on her heels to change direction.
She easily approaches the merchant, entirely unsure of their name, but she figures that she’ll manage.
“Hi,” Annie starts, flashing them a bright grin. “If I was painting a house for the first time, how much paint would I need?”
Annie quickly realises that keeping herself busy is a very viable way to stop herself from wearing down Finnick’s floorboards. Not like it matters, because she has enough money to pretty much have the whole damn house replaced, but she’d prefer not to do that just yet.
Maybe next year, but for now? She’s more than happy to just paint his walls a different shade of blue.
She’s actually pretty proud of how everything’s turning out. Annie has quite literally never painted anything in her entire life, but she’s managed to figure it out well enough. She’s painted waves all over his kitchen — they trail up the walls, wrap around the fridge, and just barely stop when they reach the ceiling. Annie is confident, but she’s not that confident yet. She doesn’t want to fuck up his house by putting too much faith in herself, which she admittedly almost did before realising that maybe she should wait.
Annie hopes that he likes it.
She’s already made plans for what she wants to do in the upcoming months. If Finnick’s schedule stays like this, Annie figures she’ll have plenty of time to add stuff to his house. Little gifts for him to come back to. He did it for her once he left, and Annie thinks that it’s only fair for him to get the same treatment. She isn’t exactly leaving money on his front porch like a damn cat, but she’s doing the best she can.
She’s planning on painting a mural of the ocean behind where they usually sleep. Annie is definitely not confident enough to attempt that, either, but she’s definitely going to do it. She just has to get a little better at painting before she’ll do it. Annie is also planning on buying some new decor for his house, namely some actual, real anchors to plaster all over his walls. She thinks it’ll be funny, and she’s also very certain that Finnick’ll agree.
Annie takes a few steps back from her work, planting her hands on her hips. She figured that paint would be messy, but she didn’t realise just how goddamn bad it would actually be. She’s pretty much covered in blue paint — it’s all over her face and it’s definitely soaked into her clothes at this point.
Whatever. She’s fine with ruining half her damn wardrobe if it means that she can do one nice thing for Finnick Odair. Annie studies the waves, taking note of all the places that she probably needs to touch up. But, for the most part, she thinks that it all looks pretty good.
Either way, Annie’s decidedly done painting for the day. She’s also learnt to stop before she ruins things, and she’s half-convinced she’s well on her way to fucking it up a bit. Annie heaves a sigh, collapsing down onto the carpet. She manages to get her hair out of the bun she put it in, letting her head thunk down against the floor immediately after.
It makes her scoff, mostly because she can only think of Finnick doing the exact same thing. He loved flopping down onto the ground and just laying there for the next three or four hours. Finnick has claimed that it’s the closest thing he gets to the beach back in the Capitol, but Annie’s relatively certain that he just likes laying on the ground every chance he gets.
Annie misses him.
She feels stupid for how bad it is. Annie figures she shouldn't be surprised, given how she spent almost over a month with him near-constantly. Finnick is ridiculously similar to her in a lot of ways, completely different in all the rest. He loves the ocean more than anything, and Annie understands that more than anything. He has an endless supply of shitty jokes that make her laugh, and Finnick was always more than happy to ramble at her about anything that popped up into his head.
Annie never used to like people who couldn’t shut the fuck up, but she thinks she’d very genuinely kill to have Finnick rambling right next to her for hours. He was so talkative, and his stupid big house has just been too quiet, and Annie doesn’t like it at all. The silence around her has never usually been so loud. Annie’s always been happy to have peace, and now she’s stuck wishing that Finnick would be here so she could listen to him talk for ten hours straight.
She misses him. She misses him bad.
Annie heaves a sigh, twisting her head to the side. Finnick would be there right next to her. He’s gotten good at convincing her to lay down on the floor with him. And he would be right there next to her, probably talking about something ridiculous, and Annie would be listening, and...
“Goddammit,” Annie breathes out, forcing herself to sit up. She’s pretty sure that she’s going insane being alone in Finnick’s stupid house, and she needs to be anywhere else.
Annie is up on her feet and out of the mansion in about a minute, maybe less than that. She stalks down to the ocean, trailing along the familiar paths that have been familiar all her life, but they’re different now. She used to go down these paths with her family or on her own, but she almost exclusively walked them with Finnick for the past month. Even when he was fucking passed out she was still with him.
Annie drags her hands through her hair as she walks, wanting nothing more than to scream. She probably should’ve done that in his dumb house, but whatever, too late for that now. Annie continues along the wooden walkways, winding all the way down to the ocean. She doesn’t bother taking off her clothes, and she didn’t even put on boots or shoes or anything, so she just walks right into the water.
It’s colder than usual, and Annie breathes out as soon as she’s fully in it. She dunks herself, staying under the water for nine or ten seconds, just existing. When she resurfaces, she can hear the gulls, can feel the sun on her skin. There’s a very noticeable lack of splashing, and Annie tries her best to pretend like Finnick is just somewhere in the depths of the damn ocean. He’s always wanted to touch the bottom of it—a goal that Annie shares wholly—and she’s watched him nearly drown about twenty times.
The memories of that make her grin even despite herself, and Annie can’t help but duck her head, immediately dunking herself again. She eventually ends up floating on her back, staring up at the sun. She’s also done this about a million times with Finnick, though he’d never let her have any sort of peace for very long. Finnick usually would pop up from behind her, underneath of her, or he’d just dive right at her and try to sink the both of them. Annie never thought she’d miss being harassed by the equivalent of a thirteen year old boy, but she’s somehow managing.
Annie floats there for what feels like hours. She knows that Finnick told her there were pools in the Capitol, how they’re not the same and never could be. But she can’t help but hope that maybe he’s in one of them, and that maybe the two of them are closer to being together than they think.
Keeping busy has proved to keep Annie from losing her mind. Though she also is realising that she’s not frugal with money in the slightest, given how many modifications to Finnick’s house she’s made.
Annie has finished the waves that go through his kitchen; she painted them into the living room, too. She’s hung up two stupidly large anchors in his living room also, and she’s fixed up the floor bed that she’s been sleeping on for two weeks now.
She hasn’t been able to sleep in a bed, let alone her bed. She doesn’t stay at her house overnight, but Annie’s been able to pry herself away from her work to go and spend time with her family. They keep her busy too, just as always. Her mom’s been making about half a million comments on Finnick being the best thing to happen to them, and Annie is inclined to agree — though she agrees for entirely different reasons.
Annie has started to write little notes of her own, mostly scribbling down whatever “secrets” about herself she can come up with. Finnick shared about four of his own, but Annie has had plenty of time to think about everything, so she’s been writing as many as she can figure out.
She taps her pencil against the notebook she’s writing in, scanning over the list that she’s already gotten down.
1. I guess you started off strong, so whatever. I’m afraid of chickens. I’ve only actually ever been around them maybe once, but that was too much time. It pecked me until I could get away, which was really difficult considering how I was six years old.
2. I’ve broken my nose twice. My older brother Nate broke it once (it was on accident, but I still won’t let him live it down), and then I ended up getting it broken because I fell on one of the docks that had a steel beam sticking out of it. It never scarred, though, and I don’t really think you can tell. Maybe you can?
3. My only job has been haggling in the market. My brothers are fishers and my mom makes stuff like tables, toys, all kinds of things. I’ve always been the loudest out of all of my family, so they sent me to bargain. I’m VERY good at it.
Annie pauses, tapping her pencil against the paper for a few seconds. Thinking about everything related to herself has been a lot harder than she expected it to be. Annie has never particularly spoken about herself this much, let alone swapped secrets.
But Finnick deserves to come back to something nice, and so she's going to figure it out. Annie has always been damn good at that, and this isn't going to be any different.
4. I’ve fought off several seagulls. The amount of times I’ve grabbed one by its legs to drag it back down is, honestly, unbelievable. I don't really like the gulls that much.
5. I almost set my house on fire once. I was cooking for one of the first times, and no one else was there. I'm not really sure how it happened, but the pot I was using was on fire. I did NOT set the house on fire, but I did have to pretend like we never had that pot.
Annie smiles, hoping that Finnick will like all her stupid secrets. They don't even feel like secrets. Secrets are meant to be more...detrimental, Annie thinks. Bigger than this. But she figures that everything she's written down are all things she's never told anyone else.
She hopes Finnick likes them anyways. There's a part of her that's sure he will. He's always been appreciative like that, which Annie appreciates. She's still sort of beating herself up over how wrong she was about Finnick Odair, but she's sure he wouldn't blame her for it.
There's a reason he acts like that. Annie isn't stupid, and she's aware of the fact that the Capitol is worse than she could've ever imagined. Finnick acts cocky and insufferable for a reason, and Annie's sure he wouldn't be mad at her for buying into it — he's a good actor.
Annie sighs, dropping the notebook onto her lap. She twists her head over her shoulder, staring at the awfully empty space in the living room. She's sat on their kitchen table, mostly for a change of scenery, because she's spent a lot of time in their shared room.
Annie almost expects to see Finnick somehow suddenly materialise into the living room. She can almost hear his voice carrying throughout the house, can almost hear him laughing. Annie sighs again, dragging her hands through her hair.
She still feels like she's going insane half the time. Keeping busy has only done so much for her. Annie's positive that it wouldn't be as bad if she didn't know just how fucked up the Capitol was. If she could pretend like Finnick was just spending a month going to parties and hanging out with other Victors, all of this would be so much easier.
But that's not happening, and so she's going a little insane waiting for him to come back. Annie is mad and has nowhere to direct that anger, and she's never liked waiting all that much. Especially not when it comes to Finnick Odair, it seems.
She just wishes Finnick was back already. Annie wishes that he was laying on the floor or sprawled out on the couch. She wishes she could talk to him again, that she didn't have to wait a stupid, awful month to even hear his voice.
Annie rolls her eyes, tossing the notebook onto the table beside her. She hops off, stalking out the door without really thinking about it. She needs to be out of his house right now — she's getting too stuck in her own head. She's gotten good at recognising when she's trapped in her own mind, when it's getting bad.
Annie makes her way towards her house, breathing in all the sun and the smell of sea salt. It's a nice day, and she wishes...
Annie huffs, forcing those thoughts back down. She can go stir crazy some other damn time. Annie keeps her head high as she walks, sparing a few glances towards the train station as she continues. Nothing is pulling into the station or leaving, and it makes her roll her eyes again.
She keeps her eyes and head turned away from it the rest of the walk, even despite the fact that she very much so wants to look.
Annie reminds herself the whole walk there that she'll see him again. She'll see him soon, really. A few weeks and he'll be back, and they'll figure it all out.
Just one day at a time, she thinks. One day at a time.
It's been two weeks and five days since Finnick left, and Annie is slowly starting to get more and more restless.
She's not surprised by that. Taking things one day at a time has only made her realise how slowly days go by in all actuality. Annie has mostly done her best to keep busy and to ignore most Finnick-related thoughts.
Annie has cleaned up his house twice now. Once was her general mess after painting, and the second time was more of a deep clean. She's spent a good few hours just going over everything, wiping off the dust and tidying things back up. Annie has also kept busy by bringing a few things from her house—and specifically her room—to his. She's been placing them around the house for him to eventually find.
Annie is a little annoyed that Finnick has done this to her. She's always gotten close to people relatively fast — falling into routines has always been easy for her. But Finnick Odair is different in ways that Annie previously was unaware of. He's similar to her while also managing to be the total opposite. He makes her laugh more than anyone.
He's her best friend. Finnick is her best friend, and Annie misses her best friend.
Annie is at the ocean today again, and unsurprisingly enough, being here isn't making her miss Finnick any less. She really does think everything would be so much more manageable if she just knew that he was fine. But he's so clearly not, and it's enough to drive her insane. Annie swears to god that she's going to blow up the Capitol herself at this point.
She sighs, curling her hands into fists. She ends up with two handfuls of sand, and while it's definitely not enough to distract her, it's nice anyways. Annie watches as the ocean moves, watches the waves crash against the beach and against her legs. Annie almost wants to laugh when she looks off to the side, spotting a very bright red crab clambering its way over towards her.
Annie does end up grinning, ducking her head at the sight of it. Figures that they'd disappear when he was here. Annie watches as it moves past her, and she can't help but feel a little sadder that Finnick isn't here. Annie would absolutely be making fun of him, but he'd be laughing too, and she misses that.
She misses everything about him, really. Annie never thought it was possible to miss everything about a person before. Not until Finnick.
Figures, really. Everything about Finnick Odair is simply different. He's awfully good at standing out from the crowd, and not in the ways that everyone would expect. Annie thinks that even if she didn’t pull him off that damn beach, she’d still probably have found him. He’s hard not to notice.
Annie tilts her head back, staring up at the sky, watching the clouds slowly pass her by. The sun still shines brightly, somehow managing to avoid each cloud that goes on by.
Annie turns around at the sudden sound of clapping and cheering, watching as a handful of people start dancing. It isn’t a wedding, but Annie can’t help but think of one of Finnick’s secrets as she watches them. Someone starts to sing, which is followed up by a more organised form of clapping and stomping, and Annie can’t help but smile at it all.
She’s realising she’s never danced with Finnick before. She’ll have to do that the next time he’s here. Annie doesn’t know if he’s hopeless or if he’s a good dancer, but knowing him, it’s almost most certainly the former. But that’s okay — Annie can work with that. She’ll just step on his feet until he figures out how to move right.
Annie turns back to look at the sun, closing her eyes after a few moments. She hears the cheering and singing get louder and louder, and when she looks back again, she sees that there’s a significantly bigger crowd of people on the beach. Annie thinks that she would probably get up and join them, maybe she’d dance on her own or find a temporary partner, but she can’t really help but just sit there on the beach, by the ocean.
She does tap her hands against the sand to the beat — she’s sure Finnick wouldn’t want her to be miserable. And Annie isn’t, she’s not, really. She’s just irritated and tired of him not being here. And seeing people dance and kick up sand and laugh is just making her wish that they were doing that, and that he wasn’t in the fucking Capitol. Annie isn’t miserable, but she would really like Finnick to actually be here with her.
Annie rolls her eyes, smiling as she ducks her head. He’d probably be real proud of how he’s gotten so in her head. She figures that spending a nonstop month with someone was probably always going to end up like this. Maybe not just anyone, Annie decides. Finnick isn’t exactly just anyone — he’s Finnick. There’s a very big difference there, and Annie thinks it’s even less surprising that she misses him more than anything at all.
She sits there for a while longer with her feet in the ocean, listening to the people around her dance. It keeps her mind off of him being gone, and mostly replaces those thoughts with all the things she wants to when he gets back.
Like dancing.
Annie starts her trek from the ocean back to Finnick’s house, dead exhausted. She decided to stay mostly at the ocean today, primarily so she could keep out of that stupid, all too big mansion. The ocean isn’t exactly better when it comes to not thinking about Finnick Odair, but Annie can lose herself far more easily there than she can at his house.
His house is full of things that make her think of him, especially now, with all that she’s done. The waves that wrap around the kitchen and into the living room, the anchors, the dozens of things she’s littered around. Annie thinks that his house now reminds her more of him than it did before, though she’s not surprised by that. It was all very obvious that Finnick hadn’t lived there for however long, if really at all. And if he did, then he definitely didn’t touch anything.
Annie’s tired, though. Swimming for eight hours has killed her legs, and while she absolutely does not want to make the trek back to his mansion, she’s also not willing to crawl. So she’s picking the least awful option, although really, crawling is starting to seem more and more appealing.
She keeps walking, though, even despite the fact that she’s starting to consider just collapsing and laying there for a few hours. Annie thinks that maybe she should’ve pulled a Finnick and passed out on the beach. She grins a little at the thought, feeling a little less like she’s going to collapse and die at any given moment. His house is still, unfortunately, stupidly far away. But she thinks that she’s a hell of a lot more likely to make it now.
Annie brushes her hair back as she walks, pausing for a moment at the...
She blinks, realising that she can hear a train coming in.
All very suddenly, the pain and burning ache in her legs is seemingly gone. Annie finds herself running before she even really means to do so, sprinting down the pathway that leads to the station. She’s still maybe three minutes away from it, but Annie is very confident in her abilities to get there in thirty seconds.
She ignores the looks she’s sure that she’s getting, her chest heaving as she pushes herself to keep moving. Annie practically slams into a good number of people, quietly swearing at them under her breath as she slides around them. She manages to get herself through a few crowds, and then she’s pushing her way through the final stretch of it all.
Annie skids to a halt as soon as she’s in front of the station, her lungs burning and her legs aching about a million times more than they were. She clutches at her chest for a few seconds as she quickly scans the station, desperately trying to spot Finnick Odair.
It’s been three and a half weeks. He should be back by now. He should be back. This should be him.
Annie can barely hear the world around her as she stands there, just waiting. Her breathing is too loud in her ears, but otherwise, there’s no other noise. Nothing other than her heart and how she’s practically gasping for air. Annie stares at the Peacekeepers that start moving from the station, watches as they start to disappear, watches as...
“Finnick!”
His name is out of her mouth before Annie even realises she’s registered him being there in her head. She watches as Finnick Odair walks out onto the street, watching as he swivels his head around to find her.
Annie’s running again before she can stop herself, practically tackling the poor man to the ground. Finnick just laughs, hugging her back, hoisting her halfway up into the air, spinning them both until Annie is very sure they’re both going to be sick.
“Annie,” Finnick breathes out, not letting her go, but taking a step back. Annie equally doesn’t let him go, keeping her arms planted firmly on his shoulders and arms. “Hi.”
“Hi,” Annie laughs, grinning at him. “I missed you.”
“I missed you,” Finnick says back, his voice soft. “Were you waiting?” He asks, and Annie notices how he’s practically gasping for air, too.
Annie shakes her head, trying to catch her breath the best she can. “No. I was walking by, and I heard the train come into the station. I was going back to your house,” she adds on. “You’re going to love what I did to it, by the way.”
“Did you paint it yellow?” Finnick asks, grinning widely. “Or pink? I’m dying to see my bright pink house, Annie. Please tell me you painted it pink.”
“I really hate to break it to you,” Annie starts, rolling her eyes when Finnick immediately starts fake crying, throwing his head back. “Finnick! Come on,” Annie laughs, shoving him back a little. “You just got back. I’m ignoring the fact that you gave me your life savings. You can ignore the fact that your house isn’t pink. Maybe it will be next time,” Annie offers, though she hates the idea of there being a next time.
Finnick does manage, somehow, to get himself together. He’s grinning when he looks at Annie again, which she finds entirely unsurprising. “It better be,” Finnick decides, his eyes sparkling, catching the sun. “I don’t know how I’ll survive without a pink house, Annie. Really. It might kill me.”
“I might kill you,” Annie decides right on back, grinning at him. “Come on. You’ll like what I did.”
Annie drags him back to his house, continuing to ignore the burning pain in her legs. Clearly, swimming for eight hours and then dead sprinting for two minutes wasn’t a great idea. But Annie thinks that she’ll be just fine — Finnick’s back. Finnick is back, and she feels a hell of a lot better having him right next to her again.
As soon as they’re actually in his house, Annie hugs him again. It’s a lot softer than the first, and she heaves a sigh against his shoulder as soon as Finnick hugs her back.
“I missed you. Are you okay?” Annie asks, quietly. She can feel Finnick tighten his grip around her just a little more, holding her a little closer.
“No,” Finnick murmurs, his voice equally as soft. “I don’t think I am. But I’m happy,” he offers, slightly quieter. “I’m happy. I missed you.”
Annie hums, holding him just as tightly. “Do you want to forget about it?” Annie asks. “Or do you want to talk about it?”
“Forget,” Finnick immediately says, without a moment of hesitation. “I’d love to forget it,” he adds on, voice muffled. “I’m sure you could make me.”
“Then let me,” Annie says, pulling back just a bit. “I wrote some secrets down for you. Since you told me some of yours,” she sighs, though she smiles up at him. “Look at the kitchen, Finnick.”
Finnick does, and Annie almost laughs at how wide his eyes get. “I didn’t know you could paint!” Finnick immediately tells her, spinning back around on his heels, his eyes even bigger than they had been. “Was that one of your secrets?”
“No,” Annie laughs, grinning at him. “I didn’t know how to paint until a month ago, actually. Or I wasn’t good at it, I guess. It was the first time I did it. I think it turned out pretty good,” Annie decides, resting her arm against his shoulder. “It’s not pink or yellow, but, you know. You said you liked blue.”
“It’s a good colour,” Finnick decides, beaming at her. “What’s your favourite colour? You never told me.”
“Green,” Annie easily supplies. “I never said that blue wasn’t a good colour.”
“I just figured I’d make it clear,” Finnick offers, grinning now as he shrugs. “They’re beautiful, Annie. Really. Thank you,” Finnick says, sounding so genuine that it sort of makes Annie’s chest ache. “They look amazing. You should paint them everywhere,” he decides, pausing for a second. “If you want to.”
Annie laughs, bumping up against him as much as she can. “I want to. Maybe you can help,” she offers.
“I'd love to,” Finnick announces, his eyes sparkling even now that they're inside. “I brought you back something,” he suddenly says, patting his pocket. Annie watches as he pulls out a small rock that almost looks like it's glittering. “I figured you probably wouldn't want anything that I actually bought,” Finnick laughs, holding out the rock. “So I found this.”
Annie can't help but grin at him, taking the rock in her hands, rolling it between her fingers. “You were right. Where'd you find it?”
“Outside my apartment,” Finnick beams. “It caught the sun as soon as I walked out. You could call it fate, really.”
“I think I'll just be saying thank you,” Annie snorts, feeling nothing but fondness. “So, thank you. It's pretty,” Annie hums, moving a little to stand in the direct light of the sun pouring in through their window. She holds up the rock, grinning a little more at how it very easily casts a rainbow around the room.
“I'm glad you like it,” Finnick says, moving to sit on the kitchen table, right in front of the light, because of course he does. He grins at her, his eyes shining. “We should go swimming.”
Annie almost groans at the thought, her legs aching. “Give me an hour,” she half-pleads, laughing a little. “I swam for half the day. You're lucky I didn't crawl to the station.”
Finnick laughs, tossing his head back, and Annie feels nothing but warmth. His voice and laughter easily fills the house, the silence dying out as if it was never there. Annie feels like everything is back to normal. About as normal as it can be, really.
God, she missed him.
Annie spends the next hour talking to Finnick about all the things she did to his house. She goes over all the secrets she wrote down, and he talks about the newest fashion trend in the Capitol. He doesn't stop talking for dozens of minutes, and Annie is all very happy to sit there and listen, watching his animated hand gestures.
And, Annie realises, it all feels like home. He feels like home, really.
She's not very surprised by that at all.