"No! Damn you!" Finnick's voice, which had become more of a roar when you were hit to protect him, echoed through the area of the Arena where you were at that moment.

Johanna and Mags rushed to you, Johanna applying pressure to the wound, from which streams of bright red blood continued to flow, a bad sign.

You looked around, your vision blurry, recognizing Mags and Johanna only by their voices as they frantically tried to stop the rapidly forming bleeding.

At a certain point, you have no idea of the timing, you felt Finnick beside you, you heard him whimper, pick you up, and his face appeared in your field of vision. Only then did you realize that your vision had improved, you could make out the faces of the people you saw, but you could only distinguish them when they were close to you.

More than the wounds, the suffering you feel is linked to the pain you see etched on Finnick's face, or Mags and Johanna's, who managed to heal your wound and keep the bleeding at bay.

In the confusion and pain; you haven't even realized that night has fallen, you can only feel Finnick's arms wrapped tightly around you, the warmth of his body, the beating of his wounded and agitated heart, his voice as he talks to Mags and Johanna, while you try to doze in your beloved arms, feeling shattered by the loss of blood.