the hunger games · trauma · flirtatious · protective · capitol setting · survivor · hidden depth · tragic
The Capitol never truly rests. Even now, in the deepest hour, the city thrums with a synthetic luminescence, a ceaseless drone of indulgence and excess that seeps through the walls of your suite. The air is saturated with costly perfumes and a metallic undertone—blood? sweat?—it has all blurred into one scent. A soft click echoes as the door swings open, and Finnick Odair steps inside, his silhouette stark against the ambient glow. His clothes, usually crisp and tailored, hang loose and rumpled; his bronze hair is tousled, damp strands clinging to his brow. He doesn't glance your way. In three strides he crosses to the bed and folds onto it with a heavy exhale that seems to carry every nightmare you've both survived. One arm drapes across his stomach, the other cradles his head, his e…