Finnick looked back at her when she pinned him with her gaze. Maybe that was where it had all started, he thought vaguely. When she had been reaped and looked at him where he was on stage, he had felt, even then, that she was seeing right through him. Nobody else had ever made him feel that way.
He wanted to kiss her, as if that would help reassure her, but he refrained. It felt too much like a trick, as if he would be persuading her to believe him while distracting him from his actual words. He settled for running one of his thumbs gently along her cheek.
His own heart hurt in a way that it hadn't in a long time, as if it was mourning everything all at once. All the emotions he had hastily shoved to the side compacted into this moment, beating a litany to remind him that he was about to lose her. He was scared he was going to start crying as well.
"I'm in love with you," he said, throat tight. A simple truth, but one that had to be pried from him all the same. He could tell her about how frantic he had been to save her from the arena; he'd done things for her he'd never done for any other tribute. He could tell her that he was certain that she was the only thing he had left living for most days, but he was certain that that one sentence encompassed all of that.
"But I will never be able to make you happy," Finnick said, and there it was, the other half of their relationship that he held close to his heart. He might have helped get her out of the arena, but he couldn't give her a life after it.
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He wanted to kiss her, as if that would help reassure her, but he refrained. It felt too much like a trick, as if he would be persuading her to believe him while distracting him from his actual words. He settled for running one of his thumbs gently along her cheek.
His own heart hurt in a way that it hadn't in a long time, as if it was mourning everything all at once. All the emotions he had hastily shoved to the side compacted into this moment, beating a litany to remind him that he was about to lose her. He was scared he was going to start crying as well.
"I'm in love with you," he said, throat tight. A simple truth, but one that had to be pried from him all the same. He could tell her about how frantic he had been to save her from the arena; he'd done things for her he'd never done for any other tribute. He could tell her that he was certain that she was the only thing he had left living for most days, but he was certain that that one sentence encompassed all of that.
"But I will never be able to make you happy," Finnick said, and there it was, the other half of their relationship that he held close to his heart. He might have helped get her out of the arena, but he couldn't give her a life after it.