Finnick didn't think of not following after Annie. He smiled apologetically at her mother as they passed by, but twined his own fingers with Annie's. He merely tried to keep pace with her, but was secretly glad for some distance from everyone else. He wanted to be able to curl up with Annie for the next week, for the two of them to be able to hide away from the world. There wasn't anyway that was going to happen. His own family had to have known his train had come in, and there was only so long his sisters would tolerate him being at Annie's before they tracked him down, eager for stories from the Capitol and whatever presents he had brought them home.
Finnick sank down on the lip of the tub beside Annie as soon as she sat down. He pushed off his own shoes, glad to be free of them. He was fairly certain he could throw them out without Melia caring; they would be out of style by the time he went back. He rolled up the fabric of his pants to his knees and then turned so that he could stick his own feet in the growing water in the tub as well. He quietly reached for one of Annie's hands again, afraid to let go of her suddenly. His other hand went to the nape of her neck and began to massage quietly circles there, trying to ease the tension he could feel gathering in the corners of the room once again.
"She's scared," Finnick murmured quietly, pressing a soft kiss to Annie's temple, all the affection he could spare at the moment. "Because she knows you went through something she can't possibly understand." It was the same with his father. Finnick had been so bitter with him when he'd come home at 14, having done the impossible, having provided everything his family would need -- only for no praise to come from his father. There was a distance that grew and grew between them; at 19, Finnick thought that it had something to do with the fact that every parent prayed for their child to come out of the arena, but when they did, when they came home a victor, they weren't really a child anymore, and they certainly weren't the same person. Finnick had always wondered if his father had been horrified over how easily, how gracefully, he had killed, how proud he had been of being a victor, and maybe that was where the need to distance himself from Finnick had come, but Finnick had never asked, and he knew he never would. They interacted only when they had to, forced into familial interaction because of Finnick's mother and sisters. But outside of those occurrences, they avoided being left in the same room together.
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Date: 2014-03-01 12:13 am (UTC)Finnick sank down on the lip of the tub beside Annie as soon as she sat down. He pushed off his own shoes, glad to be free of them. He was fairly certain he could throw them out without Melia caring; they would be out of style by the time he went back. He rolled up the fabric of his pants to his knees and then turned so that he could stick his own feet in the growing water in the tub as well. He quietly reached for one of Annie's hands again, afraid to let go of her suddenly. His other hand went to the nape of her neck and began to massage quietly circles there, trying to ease the tension he could feel gathering in the corners of the room once again.
"She's scared," Finnick murmured quietly, pressing a soft kiss to Annie's temple, all the affection he could spare at the moment. "Because she knows you went through something she can't possibly understand." It was the same with his father. Finnick had been so bitter with him when he'd come home at 14, having done the impossible, having provided everything his family would need -- only for no praise to come from his father. There was a distance that grew and grew between them; at 19, Finnick thought that it had something to do with the fact that every parent prayed for their child to come out of the arena, but when they did, when they came home a victor, they weren't really a child anymore, and they certainly weren't the same person. Finnick had always wondered if his father had been horrified over how easily, how gracefully, he had killed, how proud he had been of being a victor, and maybe that was where the need to distance himself from Finnick had come, but Finnick had never asked, and he knew he never would. They interacted only when they had to, forced into familial interaction because of Finnick's mother and sisters. But outside of those occurrences, they avoided being left in the same room together.