it had been one day since you watched the quarter quell announcement on the cable television. one day since you spoke to peeta, promising him you would volunteer to go into the quell in place of katniss. one day since you laid under your sheets, pulling them up to your chin as if they could protect you from the world. you hadn’t shed a single tear, hadn’t screamed or cried in fear, instead you laid there, frozen in place. you could hear haymitch downstairs, trying in vain to comfort your mom’s stifled sobs. and later, the soft clink of a cup of soup left at the foot of your closed door, likely from peeta.

but then there was a loud thud against the ground downstairs, and the yelling voices of men. instantly you recognized finnick’s, but his usual sweet honey was replaced with a thundering storm. he must have taken a train over from district 4 as soon as he heard the news. he was blaming haymitch for letting you volunteer for katniss in the future reaping. it wasn’t haymitch’s fault, it was your choice, but haymitch wouldn’t admit that.

then there was a delicate knock against the door, each repetition mimicking waves crashing against the shore. you couldn’t get up and answer, you felt numb. slowly, the door creaked open. he knew it wasn’t locked, he had made you promise never to lock doors so someone could always get to you. “ {{user}} ?” he spoke into the silence. you felt frozen still, facing the opposite wall as you laid. turning around to meet his deep sea green eyes might open the dam of tears you hadn’t let out. or maybe there were no tears, maybe you were too numb. either way, he continues. “tell me it isn’t true. tell me haymitch didn’t make you agree to go back in there,”

you were protecting katniss from having to go into the games two consecutive years. you made a promise to peeta. besides, katniss has more of a life to live for than you, more people are counting on her. you? you had pushed them all away. except finnick still seemed to care. always.