finnick

FINNICK MOVED through the training room with quick, purposeful strides, his eyes scanning every corner. Liberty was nowhere to be seen, and the longer he searched, the tighter the knot in his chest grew. Since arriving in the Capitol, they had hardly been apart, and even during training, they stayed close enough to see each other. Not knowing where she was now made him feel an unfamiliar, creeping sense of panic.

He tried to keep his composure, but his mind raced with worst-case scenarios. What if something had happened? What if Snow—

"Finnick."

The familiar voice snapped him out of his spiralling thoughts. Johanna sauntered over, her expression equal parts exasperation and amusement. "Relax, lover boy. Libs is fine." She folded her arms, leaning slightly on one hip. "She went back to the apartments. After she talked to Katniss, she came over to train with me for a bit, but..." Johanna paused, her sharp eyes softening ever so slightly. "She wasn't all there, so I made her take a break. Told her to go relax."

Finnick exhaled sharply, the tension in his body easing just a little. "Thanks," he said sincerely, offering Johanna a nod of gratitude. The exhaustion from the day caught up with him all at once, but now that he knew where Liberty was, he could finally let it settle.

Johanna raised an eyebrow, clearly unimpressed with his dramatics. "You two are so sickening it hurts my teeth," she said, her lips curling into a teasing smirk.

Finnick chuckled and looked over his shoulder as he headed for the exit. "And you'll need to get used to it," he called back, the playful tone in his voice masking the relief that still lingered.

Johanna made an exaggerated face of disgust, waving him off like he was an annoying child. "Not a chance," she retorted, before shooing him with both hands. "Go, puppy. Find your owner."

Finnick laughed, shaking his head as he waved her off. Despite her barbs, he and Liberty never took Johanna's teasing seriously. She was one of the few people they trusted implicitly—someone who understood the darkness they all carried after enduring the Capitol's games. Her biting humour was her way of coping, and they never begrudged her for it. If anything, it added to the unique bond the three of them shared.

Still smiling faintly to himself, Finnick left the training room and made his way to the apartments. The thought of Liberty finally taking a moment to rest filled him with a strange mix of relief and concern. She always carried more than she let on, and though he understood why, he hated seeing her push herself so hard.

Now, all he wanted was to see her, to make sure she was okay.

Finnick quietly stepped into their shared room in the district apartment, the faint hum of the Capitol's night outside muffling the sound of his approach. The door clicked softly behind him, and as he moved further into the room, his eyes immediately found Liberty.

She was lying on the bed, her body turned slightly to one side, staring off into the distance. Her fingers absentmindedly played with a loose thread on the blanket, and the soft, faraway look in her eyes made Finnick's heartache. She didn't notice him at first, and he stood there for a moment, taking her in, trying to gauge what was on her mind.

"Liberty," he said softly, not wanting to startle her.

She blinked, slowly turning her head to look at him. A faint, tired smile tugged at her lips as she sat up slightly. "Hey, Finnick."

He crossed the room in a few quick strides and sat beside her on the edge of the bed. His hand instinctively found hers, his thumb brushing against her knuckles as he searched her face. "You okay?" he asked gently.

Liberty hesitated, her gaze falling to their intertwined hands. For a moment, Finnick thought she might brush it off like she sometimes did when the Capitol's weight pressed down on her too heavily. But then she let out a quiet sigh, her shoulders relaxing slightly.

"I talked about Grayson today," she admitted, her voice soft but steady.

Finnick's eyes widened slightly, his hand tightening around hers in silent support. He knew how deeply Grayson's memory was etched into her soul. She had only ever spoken about him with Finnick, and even then, it had taken time for her to open up about the partner who had given his life for hers.

She looked up at him, her expression a mix of vulnerability and relief. "It was with Katniss. I don't know why, but she... she made it easy to talk. Like she could just see it in me, the weight I've been carrying." Liberty's voice wavered slightly, but she pushed through. "I told her about how he wasn't like the rest of us in District 4, how he wasn't great at fishing or knots but could make a weapon out of anything. How he saved me."

Finnick's jaw tightened, his chest aching for her as she spoke. He could see how much this confession had cost her, but there was something else—something lighter in her demeanour.

"It felt... different this time," Liberty continued, her tone softening. "Like letting it out lifted something off my shoulders. I didn't even realize how heavy it was until now. I think—" She paused, meeting his gaze with a faint, almost shy smile. "I think it helped. Talking about him."

Finnick cupped her cheek with his free hand, his thumb brushing against her skin. "You're carrying so much," he murmured. "You always have been. I'm glad you could let some of it go, even just a little."

She leaned into his touch, her eyes closing briefly as if savouring the comfort he offered. "I don't know why it happened today, but I'm glad too," she admitted. "It's still there, you know, the guilt. But maybe... maybe it doesn't have to be so heavy anymore."

Finnick nodded, his voice filled with quiet determination. "You're not alone in this. You never have to be."

Liberty smiled again, this time with a bit more warmth, and leaned forward to rest her forehead against his. "I know, Finnick. Thank you."

They stayed like that for a while, wrapped in a moment of shared understanding and comfort, the noise of the Capitol fading away as they found solace in each other.

Finnick shifted slightly, wrapping an arm around Liberty's shoulders to pull her closer. She sank into him, resting her head against his chest. For a moment, neither of them spoke, the quiet of the apartment settling over them like a fragile blanket.

He ran his fingers through her hair, his touch soothing and steady. "Grayson was lucky to have you," Finnick murmured after a long silence. "And I know he'd be proud of you for carrying his memory this far."

Liberty's hand found the fabric of his shirt, clutching it lightly. "Sometimes, I wonder if I've done enough to honour him," she admitted, her voice barely audible. "He gave everything for me, Finnick. And I'm here, alive, but I don't know if I've lived the way he would've wanted."

Finnick tilted his head to press a soft kiss to the top of her hair. "You've done more than enough," he said firmly. "You've survived, Liberty. That's what he wanted. You've lived, fought, and put up with everything the Capitol's thrown at you. That's what he'd want to see."

She pulled back slightly, just enough to meet his eyes. "It's hard to believe that sometimes. But talking to Katniss today—it felt like I was finally letting go of the part of me that thought I had to carry it all alone. Maybe that's what Grayson would've wanted too."

Finnick nodded, his expression gentle but serious. "He wouldn't want you to drown in the past. And neither do I. You're not just surviving anymore, Liberty. You're fighting back, building something better—for him, for yourself, for all of us."

Her lips curved into a small, genuine smile, and she leaned into his embrace again. "You always know what to say," she said softly, a hint of teasing in her voice.

"I've had a lot of practice," he quipped, his tone lightening. "Keeping you from spiralling is practically my full-time job."

She chuckled, the sound warm and genuine. "Well, I'd say you deserve a raise, but I'm pretty sure the Capitol doesn't pay us for that kind of work."

Finnick smirked. "Then I'll take my payment in moments like this. You actually relaxing? It's worth more than gold."

Liberty rolled her eyes, but her smile lingered as she settled against him once more. "Don't let it go to your head, Odair."

The two stayed there for a while, the weight of the day slowly lifting. For Liberty, the heaviness of her memories didn't feel quite as unbearable, and for Finnick, the relief of seeing her open up—even just a little—was enough to ease the constant ache of worry he carried for her.

Eventually, Finnick broke the comfortable silence, his tone lighter. "So, should I be worried that Katniss knows more about Grayson than anyone else now? She might use it against me."

Liberty laughed softly. "I think she's more likely to aim an arrow at your head than use my story against you."

Finnick grinned. "Fair point. Guess I'd better stay on her good side."

Liberty shook her head, her smile softening as she looked up at him. "You'll be fine, Finnick. Besides, you've got me. And no one scares Katniss more than the girl who can make fishhooks out of anything."

He laughed his hold on her tightening briefly. "You're right. We're unstoppable."

At that moment, it felt like they were.

Finnick glanced at Liberty as she leaned back against the headboard, her arms loosely crossed. The question hung in the air for a moment as he settled into the chair by the bed, stretching his legs out in front of him.

"How did it go with Peeta today?" she asked again, her voice softer this time, curious but not pressing.

Finnick let out a breath, running a hand through his hair. "Better than I expected," he admitted. "He's sharp, that one. Stronger than he looks too. But it's not just his physical strength—it's his mind. He sees through things, reads people like a book."

Liberty raised a brow, intrigued. "So, you're saying he saw through you?"

Finnick smirked, shaking his head. "Not entirely. I'm still Finnick Odair, after all. I've got my charms." His grin faded slightly as he thought back on their interaction. "But... he asked me something. About why I care about keeping him and Katniss alive. I didn't expect that."

Liberty tilted her head, watching him closely. "What did you tell him?"

Finnick leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees, his hands clasped together. "I told him the truth—or as much of it as I could. That it's not just about them. It's about us, about everyone who's been dragged into this nightmare. About ending it for good." He glanced at her, his gaze steady. "I think he believed me."

She nodded slowly, a small smile playing on her lips. "Peeta's good at sensing sincerity. If he believed you, that's a good sign."

Finnick chuckled softly. "He's a good kid. Reminds me of you, in a way."

Liberty scoffed, her eyes narrowing playfully. "Oh, please. How exactly does he remind you of me?"

Finnick leaned back in his chair, his grin returning. "He's stubborn, for one. And he cares more about others than himself. Always thinking about how to protect someone else, even when it puts him at risk. Sound familiar?"

Liberty rolled her eyes but couldn't hide her smirk. "Fine. Maybe I see it too. But that doesn't mean you get to compare me to him."

"Why not?" Finnick teased, his tone light. "He's a baker. You're terrible at making knots. You both have your quirks."

"Terrible at knots," Liberty muttered, shaking her head. "You'll never let that go, will you?"

"Never," Finnick said with a laugh. "It's one of my favourite things about you."

She threw a pillow at him, which he caught easily, grinning triumphantly. "Anyway," she said, changing the subject, "do you think he trusts you?"

Finnick's smile softened. "I think he's starting to. But trust isn't built in a day. I'll keep at it."

Liberty nodded, her expression serious now. "Good. Because if we're going to make it through this, we need them on our side."

"We will," Finnick assured her. "Peeta's smart, and Katniss... well, she's fire in human form. They're not going to go down without a fight."

Liberty smiled faintly. "Neither will we."

Finnick leaned back in the chair, his gaze lingering on her. "No, we won't."

Liberty's lips curled into a mischievous smirk as she turned to Finnick. "You know," she began, her tone light but teasing, "I'm thinking it's finally time I cook us a meal. I mean, the attendants here seem to run on a tight schedule, and we've got a few hours to kill before they whip up the Capitol's version of dinner."

Finnick arched an eyebrow, a sly grin forming on his face. "You? Cook? Now, this I've got to see." His tone was filled with mock scepticism, the playful glint in his eyes daring her to prove him wrong.

Liberty feigned a look of offence, crossing her arms. "Oh, come on! I'm not that bad. It's just—well, I've never had much of a chance to cook anything fancy, okay? But I'm pretty sure I can manage something edible." She paused, her smirk returning. "And besides, it's not like you've ever cooked anything for me either, Mr. Perfect."

Finnick leaned back against the wall, arms folded as he studied her with exaggerated amusement. "That's because I've been too busy saving your life, untangling your disaster of knots, and, you know, generally being the one holding us together."

Liberty rolled her eyes but couldn't suppress the grin tugging at her lips. "Okay, first of all, rude. Second, if you're so great, why don't you help me in the kitchen? You can stand there with your smug face and critique my every move—or better yet, actually do something useful for once."

Finnick pushed off the wall, stretching as he stood. "Oh, I wouldn't miss this for the world. Let's see if District 4's finest can handle more than a fishing rod and a spear." His grin widened as Liberty playfully swatted his arm.

"Keep talking, Odair," she shot back, grabbing his wrist to tug him toward the kitchen. "By the time I'm done, you'll be begging me to cook every meal."

"Uh-huh," Finnick quipped, letting himself be dragged. "I'll believe it when I taste it."