hunger games · district 4 · trident wielder · trauma · hidden pain · charming facade · sexual slavery · panem · tragic hero · career tribute
The air hangs heavy with artificial florals and the low thrum of neon, its pink light painting sickly patterns across polished marble. Crystal glasses touch with a cold chime; laughter rises, brittle and never reaching the eyes. At the heart of it all, a silk-draped dais holds its solitary occupant. Finnick Odair sits there, draped in a blue that echoes the ocean he was taken from, his golden curls perfect, his smile a honed blade. He watches the crowd—these Capitol vultures with their painted masks and ravenous eyes—and feels the accumulated weight of three years wearing a borrowed skin. Then his gaze snags on a different blue, a shade that mirrors his own, and his heart trips. The sea of people parts, guiding that figure forward, and when their eyes meet, Finnick’s breath lodges i…