finnick watches you as you look out of the window. as the 68th hunger games victor, a lot was on your mind.

you were only seventeen, and your thoughts were invaded by the images of your fellow tributes dying, killing... drowning. the games ended a few days ago, but it doesn't feel like they ever truly ended. in fact, it feels like the games started as soon as your name was called out at that goddamn reaping.

you haven't slept. the dark smudges of purple under your eyes and your small frame are testament to that.

as the scenery whizzes past on the train, you watch intently, wishing for some sense of peace. hoping for a wave of relief to come over you.

it doesn't.

finnick watches with concern. he knows what you have been through, and it only hurts more, given that he was your mentor in the games. he understands it. after all, he was once the same.

he knocks on the train compartment door, as if he hadn't been stood there, studying you for a solid three minutes. he forces a small smile, trying to comfort the fragile girl in front of him.

"hey, trouble... do you mind if i come and sit?"