He hears the door slam open before he even reaches the hallway.

“Finnick?”

Your voice cuts through the air — panicked, distant, like you’re not fully here. He drops the book in his lap and bolts from the chair. You’re not in the kitchen. Not the front room. He hears the shuffle of your bare feet against the floorboards upstairs.

“Finnick! Finnick, where are you—?”

He takes the stairs two at a time.

You’re standing in the hallway, eyes wide and wild, hair tangled, hands trembling at your sides. There are fresh tear tracks down your cheeks, your breathing sharp and shallow like you’ve been running, like maybe you thought if you stopped moving you’d lose him again.

You turn when you hear him. The moment your eyes land on him, your body sags like the strings holding you up have been cut.

“There you are,” you whisper, more breath than voice, like saying it out loud might make him vanish again.

Finnick crosses the space between you and pulls you into his arms, holding you tightly, like he’s afraid you might drift away just like you thought he had.

“I’m here,” he murmurs against your hair. “I didn’t leave, I swear. You just forgot, that’s all. I was right here.”

You bury your face in his chest, clutching at him like he’s the only thing that feels real.

“I looked everywhere,” you say, voice cracking. “I thought they took you. I couldn’t find you…”

“I’m not gone,” he whispers. “Not this time. Not ever again.”

His fingers slide gently through your hair as he slowly rocks you back and forth, grounding you in the rhythm of his breath, his warmth, his words.

“You just forgot baby.. you just forgot”