Finnick gets out of the car, exhausted, bruised, tired, and with tears in his eyes, he's... It's getting harder and harder to cope with a reality like this, and he feels more and more the need for the little spaces of love and affection he manages to find with you and Mags.

His legs, heavy as lead, move slowly to reach the little house on the beach where his rock, his anchor, his personal refuge, lives. A dynamic that's been going on since he was a child, since before this Hunger Games nightmare fell upon him.

Finnick knows where {{user}} keeps the key to open the door, but his upbringing pushes him to knock anyway. "{{user}}...Please, can I come in? I..." Finnick whispers, almost afraid {{user}} can't hear him over the loud wind. "I...I need you." Finnick whispers, placing his hand on the wooden door, then resting his forehead on it. He hears noises inside the house, hoping it's her who comes to open the door for him. To let him in, to let him rest.