♆ ❀ ♆

『ʜᴏᴡ ᴛʜᴇ ᴍɪɢʜᴛʏ ʜᴀᴠᴇ ғᴀʟʟᴇɴ』

♆ ❀ ♆

Hunter pads through the kitchen, the cold wooden floors kissing her bare feet as she crosses her arms over her braless figure to make herself some porridge. She hums softly, grabbing the brown sugar as the same memory from a few months ago plays over and over again in her head.

The only thing keeping her sane, driving her to madness as well...

"I'm coming." She hears gravely mumbling. Even groggy, his voice still sounds like honey.

She rubs her prickly arms roughly with her hands, wanting to rip her skin off piece by piece. The metallic taste of copper coats her tongue and only then does she realize she was biting her lip so hard it could cease to exist.

"Hunter? Hunter, baby, look at me." His voice pleads and her eyes meet his green ones drowning in panic and worry. He immediately pulls her body to his, rubbing his thumb across her plump, raw lip. "Who did this to you?"

Her lip trembles as she tries to speak, but God, she's too numb and exhausted to form words, as she points to herself.

"No, no baby, not the lip." He speaks smoothly. "Who did this?" He gestures her figure as he slowly turns her around to find an array of bruises forming across her shoulder blade to the back of her ripped dress. She has her heels in one hand and the other clenched so tightly as blood seeps through the cracks of her fingers. He clenches his jaw, trying his best to keep his cool for her sake, and for his. "Come." He sweeps her in his arms bringing her inside, letting the door shut behind him.

He places her gently on the bathroom counter as he begins to run the bath with warm water. He squeezes the edges of the tub wanting to flip the fucking thing over. He hated seeing her like this. His beautiful, confident charm crumbling. She's strong. So strong—but even the strongest break. She isn't usually like this, mostly stoic and quiet afterwards, angry even, but never unresponsive in this sort of way. It scared him more than anything.

"Who was it tonight?" He asks lowly. Hunter shakes her head. "Hunter," He raises her chin by his finger. "I need a name, love."

She swallows, silence coating the air before she finally speaks. "The Mayor's son." She shivers. "And then the Mayor." She pauses as bile threatens to rise. "And then- and then a couple of the Mayor's- friends."

Finnick drops his head against her, nostrils flaring. He would plunge is trident through all of them in a heartbeat if he could, as he'd watch them take their final breath. But first he had to take care of the broken beauty in front of him.

"Let's get you in the bath, okay?" He looks at Hunter, moving his hand to cup her cheek. She shakes her head. He scoops her off the marbled counter, slips off the torn gown and helps her over to the bath.

She slowly inches herself in, trying to let her body relax into the warm water, while her face begins to crumble as she lets out a shaky breath.

Finnick quickly tosses his shirt and pants to the side and grabs a wash cloth before easing himself into the tub. He gently tugs Hunter fully down into the water, bringing her as close to his body as physicality would allow, knowing it's not enough. It's never enough. He wishes they could melt into one, entangle into each other's souls forever, and never let go. But he would want both of their bodies to be their own before they could become one. For now, they would simply share each other's love and tragedies, always aching for more, desperately craving it.

"My God, Hunter, hurry it up. We don't have all day." Damien sneers as he enters the room, sucking the life out of it, as if there was much to begin with.

Hunter shakes her head, the memory fading to the back of her mind, where she would have to hold onto it like every other. "Hmmm?" She looks up to be greeted with his scowl.

"Are you deaf, dear sister?" He spits out. "I want my drink, and make it quick."

"Right." She sends him a smug tight smile, wanting to bash the bottle of scotch over his thick head. "Of course."  She grinds the back of her teeth together as he moves to the living room, smile fading once he's gone.

She assembles his usual, long forgetting her own meal. "Here you are." She holds it out for him as he sits comfortably on the most expensive couch in District 7, as he casually goes about each day, acting as if he's earned any of it. As if any piece of furniture or luxury item is his own. Ha, what a joke.

"Sit." He speaks. Before Hunter denies he continues. "President Snow is about to make an announcement. You wouldn't want to miss it, right?" He stares coldly at her, challenging her to say otherwise.

"Of course not." Her lips and cheekbones ache from her forced, cheerful smile.

"You can sit here." He snaps, yanking her down by her wrist. He smirks at her darkly, patting her thigh.

Hunter's jaw locks as she takes a moment for her anger to— simmer. "Do you know what the announcement is?" She asks lightly, as to not come off
desperately curious but rather to make conversation.

"I do not." He answers, a thin line replacing his smug expression. "I imagine it's regarding the Games." He says obviously, waving it off like an every day occurrence.

"Mmm, right." Hunter sighs, letting herself lean back into the cushion uncomfortably, trying to ignore Damien's hand that hasn't left her thigh. At least it wasn't exposed like normally, thankful she's in yoga pants for a rare occasion. She'd rather in be in the warm, soft long sleeve shirts she likes to sleep in— when she's at peace.

The only time Hunter ever truly sleeps is in Finnick's arms, against his sculpted body, which she hardly ever can, being difficult to make it back home early enough before Damien awakes at the absolute earliest crack of dawn. The last time she was with Finnick, she could barely pry herself away. She needs him, more than her lungs need oxygen to breathe.

But she despises relying on another human being , or anything for that matter, as if she was weak, incapable of taking care of herself. It's what she's always done: take care of herself. Bear things on her own, before Finnick came along. But he swears on his life, and hers, that he will always take care of her, that it is his job. She doesn't mind vulnerability around him, but she cannot stand the feeling of being helpless. Like how she felt the last time they were together for more than a spare moment.

"Ah, there he is." Damien squeezes Hunter's leg, regaining her attention. She hides her look of disgust at Damien's admiration for President Snow. Damien only admires power, the power of preying on those who are weaker than him, beneath him. Those who make him feel powerful.

"Yes. There he is." Hunter forces out, taking a beat between each word.

President Snow raises his hand to subdue the crowd, which they fall prey to immediately. "Ladies and gentlemen, this is the 75th year of the Hunger Games." Hunter's stomach churns at the thought of her Games being almost 10 years ago... to be in a golden cage of hell for almost a decade a little less than half of her life span, just doesn't seem right.

It isn't.

The crowd begins to cheer as he continues. "And it was written in the charter of the The Games that every 25 years, there would be a Quarter Quell to keep fresh for each new generation."

"Mmm, how exciting." Damien murmurs. "Genius."

"The memory of those who died in the uprising against The Capitol. Each Quarter Quell is distinguished by Games of a special significance." Hunter's stomach then drops tremendously, an awful feeling creeping inside her spine. Her shoulders tense as Damien's hand slowly runs its way down her thigh.

"And now on this, the 75th anniversary of our defeat of the rebellion, we celebrate the 3rd Quarter Quell." Hunter dismisses a sigh through her nose, if he could would get on with it...

Cheers begin to rise as he pulls a card out of the envelope wrapped in his hands. "As a reminder that even the strongest cannot overcome the power of the Capitol." Snow reads powerfully. "On this, the 3rd Quarter Quell Games..." A smirk flashes across his face. "The male and female Tributes are to be reaped from the existing pool of Victors from each district."

Hunter's lips part.

"Ah, brilliant!" Damien raises his hands in up in victory.

Oh God.

"Victors shall present themselves on Reaping Day- regardless of age..." Oh my, God... "State of health... or situation..."

Snow's words fall deaf upon Hunter's ringing ears.

Only one word, one person, came to her mind in an instant.

"Oh, how the mighty fall." Damien inches closer to Hunter's face.

"Don't." She growls.

Like the name was waiting for her grasp.

"Excuse me?" Damien's voice drops as he largely grabs her knee, jerking her over to him.

"Get. The. Hell. Off of me." Hunter shoves him away.

Finnick.

"Hunter!" Damien yells as she rushes to the door.

Her Finnick.

"Hunter!" Damien barks.

She had to get to him, she had to see him.

"HUNTER!!!" He roars as she runs out.

Now.

♆ ❀ ♆ ❀ ♆

Author's Note: Hellooo <3

Can't believe it's been 2 weeks already since tbosbas came out!! And I've been wanting to go back and see it again ever since hahaha!

Well, welcome to The Hunger Games renaissance! Thank you so much for all new reads on this book! I've missed Hunter and Finnick's story so much!! Can't wait to dive into them more, ugh this chapter and them was just everythinggg.

Anyways, hope y'all enjoy and please feel free to comment your thoughts, questions, and reactions, they are super motivating!! Also hope y'all LOVE the new playlist, updated aesthetics, and the new book cover as much as I do <3

Until next time, mwauh!

(Hoping to get to work on this book some more during Christmas break!! I'll be publishing a new Hunger Games book then as well!!)