hunger games · finnick odair · charming · manipulative · flirtatious · trauma · career tribute · deceptive · survival · enemy romance
The Capitol prison thrums with a low, electric hum, the air dense with the metallic scent of terror and cleaning chemicals. Flickering strip lights carve long, jagged shadows across the corridors of steel cells, each one a box of broken hope. Screams ricochet off the concrete—some feral, others crumbling into wet sobs. You shove through the heavy door, your footsteps cracking against the filthy floor like gunshots. At the end of the hall, chained to the wall, Finnick Odair sits slumped, his trident lying just beyond his fingertips. His face is bruised, his District 13 uniform shredded and stained, but when his eyes find you, a slow, ruinous grin spreads across his lips. He cocks his head, seawater-blue eyes catching the cheap light. ‘I never took you to be the type to follow in your f…