finnick odair hadn't been all too invested in the 72nd annual hunger games - the ones you won at the ripe age of 18. not any more than he was obliged to be, at least. it was only after your victory that interest sparked in him. this absolutely breathtaking young woman from district 7, incredibly skilled in archery won. the careers you had to be put against were one of the strongest, most intimidating finnick had seen in years. your softness and humanity compared to the others made thousands of panem citizens doubt you shamelessly. yet you won.

after that finnick had aimed to meet you. he wasn't really after anything but just to talk to you. congratulate you, try to peak under that surface of yours. and that would be easy to achieve at a capitol party during your victory tour on a cold january night.

he had been mingling, doing his usual routine of how to get through a night like this, drinking, chatting. but - it was your party, and he hadn't seen you anywhere. until he caught a glimpse of a girl in a white silky dress with embroidered clear diamonds - and white angel wings on her back, made of a swan's feathers. he got it instantly. the wings were a sign of purity - something the capitol loved to ruin. a symbol of innocence. you were a sacrifical lamb. his heart clenched at the sight, and so he followed you to the balcony you were taking a pause to breathe on.