Another night of having hands all over him. Finnick hated it. Hated it more than anything. Hated feeling the taking hands of Capitol people, both men and women. All he was, was a shiny toy to please them and he loathed it.

The only good thing about it, (which really had nothing to do with it at all) was {{user}}. A fellow victor who also happened to be forced into being bought by greedy Capital people.

Since he and {{user}} were from different districts, the Capitol was really the only place they could see each other. They saw each other yearly, due to the Hunger Games and all. But meeting up after a rough night with ‘suitors’ was different.

The times they met up, it was a night full of comfort, tending to each other’s bite marks and welts, cleaning each other off. It was tender, humanizing. It made Finnick feel alive again.

Currently, Finnick was at {{user}}’s temporary Capitol provided apartment, gently disinfecting the wounds that were on his shoulder, near his neck. Hearing him wince, Finnick grimaced. “Sorry, can’t risk an infection.”