"You should go out more, you know," said the girl, dipping the tip of her toes inside the cool green sea. She was thirteen at that time, with her wavy chocolate brown hair tied up into a messy bun, her sea green eyes looking far at the horizon, her porcelain-looking body sitting on top of a pile of golden sand.
"Nah, I don't think so, Annie," replied the boy, who was tying knots on a net with his fingers, sitting next to Annie. His tan skin was glistening under the orange sunset, his eyes(the same shade as Annie's) fixed on his knot, and his thin lips were forming a straight line.
"Oh I sense so much joy being around you, Finn," replied Annie, rolling her eyes. Sarcasm always brighten the fourteen year old boy up, she thought in mind.
But it wasn't working. He was still fixed on his knot, probably shutting the world around him. Even shutting Annie, who could always bring a smile upon his face.
"Hey Finn," she called, trying to get his attention. Finally, he looked up from his knot, his eyes settling on hers.
"Hm?" he asked.
"You can't keep on doing this to yourself, you know," Annie started, looking at his eyes with pure concern.
"Doing what?"
"You know, keeping your distance from everything," Annie continued, her eyes growing larger. "Not from your mother, and not from me."
Finnick paused, digesting every word that Annie said. Annie tried to put her hand on his shoulder, but he flinched away.
"Sorry, I still have the feeling that I'm in the," there he paused, his eyes grew large as he remembered that horrifying place,"arena." He took Annie's hand in his and placed her hand on top of his shoulder. "Thanks. I really need this," he said with a weak smile, gesturing to Annie's hand on top of his shoulder.
"It still gives you nightmares doesn't it?" she asked worriedly.
Finnick looked down and continued to tie more knots. He nodded. It's been months since the Games had been over. Finnick won, and he thought that by coming back home to his mother and Annie would fix everything. But it didn't. He couldn't go back. He went there as an innocent 14 year old boy, and returned as a murderer. It gave him nightmares. Sometimes he might woke up screaming at the dead of night, dreaming of the girl from District 11 that he murdered with his trident, asking him why he had to kill her . Or the mutts that chased him deep in the forest . But the thought that scared him most was losing Annie. He can't lose her. But if he does not do as he was ordered, President Snow will find her. And torture her. He grimaced at the thought. He can't let that happen. No, he won't let that happen. Ever.
"I don't get it," Finnick said, looking at the soothing sky.
"Get what?" asked Annie, fixing Finnick's knot with her tiny and trained fingers.
"You treating me the same way before I joined the games," Finnick replied, still fixing his eyes on the sky.
"Why?"
"Because I am a murderer," he answered, looking at Annie. His eyes were red with fury, regret, and despair.
"No, you are Finnick Odair, my friend," Annie said.
Finnick scoffed. "I killed those tributes Annie. I killed them and watched them die," he said, his voice filled with anguish, hating himself for what he had done.
"You had no choice, Finn," Annie said with her soothing voice. "It was not you who killed them. It was them," she said with anger and disgust, referring to the people in Capitol.
"But I shouldn't have killed all those people," Finnick said.
"No,
they shouldn't have invented the games," she replied.
"Even then, I am still a killer," Finnick said, mourning all those dead tributes he murdered.
Annie sighed, and stopped talking. She picked up the yarns she brought, and started to work on them.
"What are you making?" Finnick asked, looking at the unfinished strands of yarn in Annie's lap.
"Wait for it, you impatient blond," Annie said, still concentrating on her yarns.
"My hair is bronze, Ann," Finnick said with a weak smile.
"Uhuh," Annie replied.
After a few minutes, Annie smiled with satisfaction at her creation.
"Close your eyes," she instructed.
Finnick chuckled, "What are you doing?"
"Just do as you were told," Annie said.
Finnick did as he was told, and he felt Annie's hands pulling his hands to his back. Then he felt the rough yarn tied around his wrists.
"Annie.." he said with a smile, still closing his eyes. "What are you planning to do? Tie me up and drown me?"
"Yeah right, if I were going to murder you, I wouldn't be drowning you in the sea," she replied, knowing that Finnick was a great swimmer. "Now open them."
Finnick opened his eyes, and found Annie standing in front of him, smiling. He wanted to brush a strand of her hair away from those green eyes of hers, but found that his hands were tied back with a make-shift handcuff Annie made for him.
"Ann, what's this?" Finnick asked with amusement.
"A handcuff," she replied. "You know, coz' you're a criminal and all."
Finnick laughed. "Okay, okay, you caught me. Now what do you want me to do?"
"I want you to.." Annie paused, thinking of a list of stuff she want Finnick to do.
"To slow!" Finnick said suddenly, and in a flash he undid the knot (which Annie purposely made loose) and splashed water from the sea at Annie. Annie squealed as the cold water sprayed her, and she chased Finnick who had ran away before she could say something.
They continued to play in the beach, splashing water at each other until they were soaking wet. For once, Finnick had forgotten everything about the Games. All he cared about was Annie, and nothing could ever change that.
