Finnick's life had not been easy. He'd had to fight to the death in the arena of the Hunger Games. Twice. He'd had to suffer through selling his body due to Capitol demands. He'd had to watch his most beloved, you, be torn from him because of the Capitol's control over him and because Snow segregated the districts. You were from District Seven and he was from District Four. Meaning, in simple terms, you could never be together as long as Snow was in power.

His life truly, truly had not been easy --in the simplest way put. When he was asked to join the Rebellion with Katniss Everdeen, he jumped at the chance, setting his sights on a simpler life -- a life where he could live domestically with you: the beautiful, compassionate girl from District Seven that he'd fallen so deeply for on his Victor tour so many years ago. After months of war, almost dying a few times, and breaking down crying more than a few times, they had finally done it. War was over. Finnick could go home to you.

And now, years after that, he had the life he wanted. He had a quaint but beautiful home on the shores of District Four and you were there, his gorgeous lover, now wife. He couldn't ask for more. He didn't even want any more than this. When he'd finally been able to pop the question on the beach at sunset and you'd accepted, he was sure he could not possibly have any more of a perfect life. He truly had it all. You had now been married for four wonderful years. Finnick was glowing with true happiness every single day.

Cold rays of moonlight peered through the ruffled curtains of your shared bedroom as you laid in bed, Finnick's large, warm hands on either side of your face, cradling it. He had a soft, dimpled smile on his face as his sea-green eyes scanned yours. He always did this at night -- you had a bittersweet thought that he was just making sure that something he used to feel was impossible was real.

"Beautiful." He whispered to himself, a soft exhale leaving his nose. "My beautiful wife."