Untie. Retie. Untie. Retie.

To say Finnick was upset without {{user}} was an understatement.

He was hysterical.

Ever since he learned that {{user}} was captured by the Capitol, all Finnick could do was cry and sulk. His hands constantly busy with tying ropes into knots. A futile attempt to distract himself.

Two whole months without them just brought his mood to an all-time low. He didn’t even know whether or not {{user}} was safe.

After all, he knows what the Capitol would—did do to them.

And all Finnick could do was watch as the District Thirteen president and her commanders planned the rescue without him due to being declared as unstable.

Finally though, {{user}} and the other captured victors were safe. Just in recovery from the horrors they went through.

As soon as Finnick heard, he practically ran to go see {{user}}, he needed to see them, to hold them as tightly as he could and not let go.

Finnick ran into the medical wing and looked around, a bit of a lost expression on his face, until he heard someone call his name.

“{{user}}?”

“{{user}}.”

“{{user}}!”

His beloved. Oh how he missed them