Two

                                    

                                          
"Finnick, it's okay," Marissa cradles her love in her arms. She runs a shaky hand through his bronze curls and rocks him ever so slightly. Tears soak into her T-shirt, which he grasps at, balling up the material in his hands and clenching it tightly. Nightmares plague the couple's bedroom regularly. If it is not Finnick suffering, it is Marissa. "You're okay now. You're safe and, I've got you." 
"They... they were...they hurt you," Finnick chokes out, his back shuddering as he leans into her hold. "I... I tried to stop them but, I- Mari, we can't go back there."
Marissa swallows thickly. She knows that Finnick is aware that she is planning to volunteer if she does not get chosen. He knows that Marissa is too selfless to let Mags and Annie face the horrors of the arena again. So, she cannot promise him that they will not be going back. They have no choice. "Finnick, sweetheart, it was just a dream," she soothes, her hands still caressing his curls. Finnick adores it when Marissa plays with his hair. "It wasn't real, Finn. I'm right here and, I'm fine." 
Her words do not do much to comfort him because, even though she is alive right now, she is being thrown right back into harm's way. Soon they will be in the arena again, fighting their friends. 
"I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry," Finnick sobs, his cries growing heavier. He does not stop repeating these apologies, shaking in her embrace and chest heaving as he forces the words out. Marissa tries to dismiss them, assuring Finnick that he has nothing to apologise for, but he is growing more distraught as the minute's tick past. Tears begin to well in Marissa's eyes because seeing Finnick in this much pain is worse than any form of torture. 
"Finnick, my love," Marissa finally whispers when Finnick starts to mumble about letting her down and failing to protect her. She gently pries his hands from her T-shirt and cups his face in her hands. She pushes him back, forcing him to move his head from her chest and look up at her. She wipes tears from his puffy cheeks and flashes him a watery smile. "Could you show me how to tie the bowline knot again, please?"
"I... I showed you last week."
"You know I'm no good with knots. Please?" Marissa is honestly awful with knots. It does not matter how many times Finnick shows her how to tie them; she can never get the hang of it. Finnick, however, finds knot tying therapeutic; it distracts him. So, every time he awakens from a nightmare, every time he is upset, every time he is stressed, Marissa asks him to show her another type of knot. "Please?"
Finnick nods, reaching up and removing her hands from his face so he can wipe away more of his tears. He then fumbles around blindly for the short string of rope he keeps in there – Marissa is the one who suggested he keeps it in there for nights like these. She beings to play with his curls again, her hands tangling in his hair as he starts to tie the knot. 
He clears his throat, testing his voice before looking up at her, "you have to lay the rope over your hand like this and leave the free end hanging down." 
He carried out the movements with the rope as he speaks, making sure Marissa is focusing on the knot, "then, make a loop and pass the free end up through the eye." 
Marissa watches as he finishes the knot, the trembling in his hands lessening with every second. When he is finally done, he holds it up in her face and sends her a wonky grin. "Your turn." 
Marissa sighs when Finnick undoes the knot, hands her the rope and waits patiently for her to tie it. Her eyebrows knit together as she stares down at the rope, trying to remember the first step Finnick had shown her. 
"You know, Mari, the knots usually don't tie themselves."
"I don't understand how you do it!" Marissa gives up, dropping the rope onto the bed. Finnick chuckles, shaking his head at her.