"Where are you taking me?" Dahlia asks in confusion as Finnick leads her by the hand through unfamiliar corridors. The twists and turns were all blending together in her eyes but Finnick seemed to know the route like the back of his hand.

Glancing over his shoulder with a tilted head and devious smirk, Finnick slyly questions, "Don't you trust me?"

"Ask me again when you're not dragging me to a mysterious location within the Capitol." Dahlia retorts with a dry humourless voice, pursing her lips as she glares at the Capitol propaganda on the wall. 'Unity, Prosperity, Sacrifice'... The words that had been drilled into her head since she was old enough to read and write. Is that what Snow calls this? All Dahlia sees is 'Division, Poverty, Suffering.'

"Yeah, the posters are a bit much." Finnick mumbles in agreement as he notices her reproachful expression. "But I promise you it's worth it."

Dahlia remains unconvinced despite Finnick's childlike giddiness and excitement. But she doesn't voice these concerns aloud, too distracted by the boy's infectious grin beaming back at her every few seconds. She'd follow him to the depths of Hell as long as he was holding her hand.

Eventually, Finnick brings them to a stop outside a door and turns to her with soft eyes. He smooths his hands down her arms tenderly, making Dahlia feel uncharacteristically bashful under his gaze. Though her mind wills her to look away and snap herself out of the spell his eyes have trapped her in, her heart urges her to drown in the sea of his soul.

"Do you trust me, Lia?" He repeats his earlier question with a much more serious tone. He wants a genuine answer this time, a confirmation that he has her consent. Dahlia nods slowly but that's not enough for Finnick. "I need to hear it, my little flower. Use your words."

Now even more curious as to what awaits her behind the door, Dahlia doesn't question the seriousness of Finnick's tone as he demands to know where her faith lies. "I trust you, Finn." She murmurs confidently, no hint of hesitation or lies in her voice.

Finnick beams proudly at her certainty, honoured to be one of the few to know the real Dahlia. He opens the door with one hand to lead Dahlia with the other. Walking backwards so he can keep his eyes focused solely on her, he begins to explain the significance of where he has taken her, "This is where I go to feel closer to my district." Their gazes remain fixed on each other, which leaves Dahlia no room to observe her surroundings. Her senses were too overwhelmed by the close proximity of Finnick that she didn't hear the sound of trickling water, didn't smell the saltiness of the air, didn't realise exactly where Finnick was taking her. "I've never shared it with anyone."

"Then why share it with me?" Dahlia asks quickly, distracting herself from the warmth spreading across her face. Because Finnick was sharing a little piece of his heart with her. Only her. And that made her heart give a slight flutter, like butterflies in her bloodstream.

"Because I need you to know that there are other ways to feel alive." He replies sincerely, watching Dahlia's face contort as the memory of her confession floats to the surface. Admitting the truth to herself was difficult, but admitting it in front of Finnick made her feel embarrassed. He would now see her as everyone else does. A crazed Victor who only knows she's alive when she feels pain. But Finnick was never one to buy into Capitol gossip. He knows exactly who Dahlia is and he wants her to see it too. She's a fighter. Stepping aside, he finally reveals the spot he's led her to and the reason behind it. "Facing your fear and overcoming it is one of them."

Dahlia's stomach drops in panic and her body tenses up right away. Her fight or flight mode has been activated and, right now, it's telling her to run. Though the sight in front of her is beautiful with marble floors and decorative archways reminiscent of Ancient Rome, her eyes are immediately drawn to the pool of water in the middle of the room. She listens to the alarm bells ringing in her mind and tries to pitifully back away, but Finnick's hand is still locked in hers. He doesn't let her pull away from him, but also doesn't force her any closer.

"No, Finn. I-- I can't. Please--" She stutters pleadingly, tugging at his hand in an attempt to escape from the dreaded situation. Her feet are glued to the spot, widened eyes staring tearfully at the rippling water. "Don't-- I can't do it."

"I won't force you to do anything, Lia." Finnick assures her in a calm soothing voice, which is almost enough to make her step closer to the water just to be near him. "But this won't go away if you don't fight it." A squeeze on her hand entices her stare away from the pool to gaze into Finnick's eyes of watercolour blue. They never look away as he passionately whispers, "You can't let fear control your life. You can't let it consume you. Because you, Dahlia Blossom, are a fighter. And I won't let you give up on yourself."

Finnick's words seem to strike something within Dahlia, as though they are a match that finally lit her fuse. This was exactly what Snow wanted from her. He wanted her to live in constant fear, terrified to even just leave her house. And she was letting him win. Why was she doing that? Snow may have destroyed her family, but he couldn't erase the memories she had of them. They wouldn't want her to be afraid because of what happened to them, they'd want her to live for them. And she needed to live for herself.

"Will you-- Will you stay with me?" She questions nervously, eyes returning to stare at the tranquil waters luring her over to disappear beneath the surface and never come back up. But with Finnick by her side, she can accomplish anything and overcome any fear.

"Of course." Finnick responds smoothly, beginning to slowly guide her to the steps of the shallow end. "I wouldn't let you do this alone." He lets go of her hand once he reaches the edge of the pool to remove his shirt, leaving him in the loose pair of shorts he'd worn the night before. Dahlia has seen him shirtless before, but his bronze muscled skin on full display is enough to make any girl blush. It's no wonder the Capitol ladies are so obsessed with him. "Do I make you nervous, little flower?"

Ripping her eyes away from his chest, Dahlia finally notices the lack of space between them. She has to tilt her chin up to avoid staring directly at his godly body, using every ounce of self-control she possesses to not let her eyes dart back down just for another quick peek. Finnick's lips are curled up into a teasing smirk at her bashful expression before she pulls herself together and morphs her features into oblivious nonchalance.

"Don't flatter yourself, Finn." She mutters dishonestly, stepping around him to finally stand at the water's edge. "Though if your aim was to distract me then I commend your attempt."

"Was it successful?" He asks cheekily, wrapping his arms around her waist from behind and resting his chin in the crook of her neck. He knows it is successful because he can feel the way her breath hitches and a shiver runs down her spine as he presses his front against her back. Internally he admires the way her body reacts to his and how their frames seem to mold together perfectly. It's as if he was purposely sculpted to hold her safely in his arms like this. Like they were made for each other.

"In your dreams, Odair." Dahlia manages to muster a reply, albeit a slightly breathless one. Even she cannot deny what a perfect fit they are but they came here for a reason.

Finnick reluctantly pulls away, his hands lingering as long as they can on Dahlia's waist as he circles around her to reach the first tiled step of the pool. Sinking down further into the water, he trails his fingers down her hips and along her bare legs. He now stares up at her, almost like he's kneeling down before her to worship Dahlia for the goddess she is. Then he whispers his next words like a hopeful prayer, "You are always in my dreams, little flower."

Offering his hand to her, Finnick doesn't let her look anywhere else but in his eyes. Even as she accepts his hand and allows him to gently pull her into the water, their gaze is locked only on each other. Dahlia barely even registers that she is now knee-deep in the pool, the water soaking into the oversized shirt she'd stolen from Finnick. She is too enamoured with Finnick to notice anything else. He leads her deeper into the water, like a siren enticing her into the waves. But he doesn't hurry her along, taking each movement slowly and encouraging her to go deeper one step at a time.

It is only when she reaches the bottom of the steps and the floor seems to disappear beneath her feet that she begins to panic. Suddenly she's back in the Games, fighting desperately to get to the surface and feeling the water levels rise drastically around her. She has no control... The waves will overpower her... She can't breathe.

"It's alright, Lia. It's alright. You're safe." Finnick's voice brings her back from the darkness the way Cove rescued her from the flood. His hands on her waist ground her to reality and remind her where she is. She was with him. He would never let her go. "You're safe with me. I won't let you drown."

With Finnick's arms keeping her above the water's surface and his coaxing encouragement murmured into her ear, Dahlia was amazed to find herself relaxing into that weightless feeling. Although she was engulfed by something she had been influenced to fear, she was with someone who made her feel at peace. And her devotion for Finnick overpowered any sense of trepidation she'd once felt for the water. This was where he felt most confident. This was his home. Therefore she could learn to love it just as much as he did.

"You're doing so well for me, Flower." Finnick praises, feeling herbody loosen up under his fingertips and her features grow calmer. "Now, lay back and just float."

Following his instructions, Dahlia let her limbs relax and drift to the surface, her body lying flat in the water. Finnick's hands were placed securely on her back, reassuring her that he was with her as the water lapped at her face. It felt strange to glide so freely in something that could easily take her life. Something about it was empowering for Dahlia, a reclamation of her strength and determination. She can't control what the water does, but she can control herself. And that's all she needs.

Finnick lovingly stares down at Dahlia as her eyes close in euphoric bliss. The pure relief and joy on her face is priceless to him, and he grins at her with more happiness than his body can contain. His hands slowly leave her back as he allows her to float on her own. She pays no mind to his absence, too content in embracing the movement of the water around her. But with her hair flowing out around her head and her arms spread wide in delight, Finnick believes she looks just like an angel ascending to heaven. The sight is enough to convince him that maybe someone is watching over him from above. What else could explain how a divine being such as her had been sent in his direction?

Look at my girl go, Finnick thinks proudly to himself as he watches her thrive in conditions that would have previously broken her. He knows she is capable of anything once she puts her mind to it. That's the reason Snow is so threatened by her. She has the power to overcome any obstacle he throws her way and, no matter how hard he tries to beat her down, she keeps coming back stronger.

"You okay, Finn?" Dahlia asks quietly once she opens her eyes to find him in an infatuated daze. She slowly swims over to him as leans his back against the edge of the pool, elbows propped up on the side to keep him afloat. Once Dahlia had reached him, a dreamy smile made its home on his lips, even as she teasingly said, "Thought I lost you there."

Finnick chuckles lightly under his breath and replies, "I'm fine, Lia. I was just..." Just admiring how beautiful you look, just imagining a peaceful life together, just wondering what I did to deserve you... He couldn't exactly say any of these out loud. He had to settle for a vague answer. "Thinking."

Dahlia's face scrunches in disappointment at how boring the response and huffs out, "Well, that's not very fun."

"Oh, you want to have fun now?" Finnick asks in between bouts of laughter, amused by her swift change of heart. "What do you want to--" He's cut off by a wave of water smacking him in the face and the sound of giggling hitting his ears. He splutters in shock as Dahlia throws her head back with carefree laughter.

Although it was wonderful to hear her sound so happy and cheerful, Finnick couldn't let her get away with that. He glared playfully at her until her giggles ceased and with widened eyes, she muttered a muffled, "Oh no."

She was quick to take off through the water as soon as the words left her lips, kicking her feet frantically to get away from the inevitable consequences of her actions. But Finnick had grown up in the water, learning to swim before he could even walk. She knew she stood no chance of getting away from him as he expertly ploughed through the waves behind her. Yet neither could contain the lighthearted laughter which echoed around the room like a melodious love song.

Finnick's hand latched onto Dahlia's leg, halting her in her tracks before yanking her back. She barely has time to think about fighting to escape when he seizes her hips in his grasp and lifts her above his head. Her hands brace themselves against his broad shoulders as the water drips from her hair and a dimpled smile gleams on her face.

But the joking mood disappears as Finnick's eyes trail along the curves of Dahlia's frame. The water has made his large shirt cling to every crevice of her body, displaying her womanly shape and lean legs for him to gawk over. His mouth runs dry at the way their damp skin brushes against each other, feeling his heart thump erratically in his chest. Their smiles are replaced by flushed faces and yearning eye contact.

Slowly and carefully, he lowers her back into water but doesn't release her from his arms. Instead, he grips her thighs and pulls her body flush against his chest. Dahlia has no choice but to wrap her legs around his waist and hang onto his shoulder for support. She places her forehead against his, feeling his breath hit her lips as their noses brush with each movement. The moment is quiet, intimate... Perfectly imperfect, just like them.

Finnick wonders what might happen if he were to close that gap, to feel their lips press together just once. To live and make decisions for himself, not by the orders of someone else. To do what truly makes him feel alive. Unfortunately every aspect of his life is heavily controlled. Snow would never allow anything to happen between his most profitable Victors. It would ruin the images he has built for them. Finnick would never get a happy ending, not while Snow was around.

"Thank you, Finn." Dahlia whispers lowly, barely audible despite the close proximity between them.

Finnick pulls back in confusion, eyebrows furrowed as he asks, "For what?"

With a soft smile and loving gaze, Dahlia airily replies, "For making me feel alive."

Dahlia had always wondered why she never turned to drug and alcohol addiction to cope after her Games, like so many other Victors had done before here. But now she knows why... Finnick is her addiction. Her drug. Her reason for living. She knows that, as long as they have each other, they are unstoppable.

But that's just what Snow is afraid of. As he watches the pair from the cameras installed in every inch of the Capitol, a bitter resentment bubbles inside of him. His plans could never succeed if Finnick was always around to rescue Dahlia from the darkness. If he is to emerge the winner, those two need to be split apart. By any means necessary.