District 13, the underground military stronghold, has become their new home, along with Peeta, Katniss, and Johanna. The sterile halls, strict schedules, and ever-present sense of order make it a far cry from the world they knew before. Here, survival is not just about avoiding the Capitol’s grasp but also about adapting to the rigid expectations of a rebellion in motion.

Finnick was asleep when they walked in. His bare back was exposed to the cold air, his sandy blonde hair the only thing visible above the blanket. At the sound of the door opening, he stirred, lifting his head just enough to look at them. That familiar, stupid grin spread across his face; lazy, teasing, like he had been waiting for them. It was the kind of look that made it impossible to tell if he was amused, relieved, or just trying to get a reaction.

They hesitated for a moment, lingering by the door. It was still strange, sharing a space with him. District 13 assigned them as roommates out of practicality, not personal choice. Resources were tight, and privacy was a luxury few could afford. Still, something about it felt inevitable, as if they had been placed together not just by logistics but by something else entirely.

Finnick stretched, his muscles shifting under the dim light, then rolled onto his side, propping himself up on one elbow. "Rough day?" he asked, voice thick with sleep.

They didn’t answer right away. The day had been exhausting, filled with drills, strategy meetings, and the unshakable weight of everything that was happening outside these walls. But here, in this small, shared space, with Finnick looking at them like that, the world outside felt a little farther away.

"Something like that," they finally said, stepping further into the room.

Finnick hummed in response, watching them with a knowing look. Then, without another word, he shifted over, making just enough space in the bed,an invitation, whether they chose to take it or not.