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Assistant: Title: Where Soul Meets Body
        Author: ellizablue ellizablue 
        Chapter: 5/44 
        Summary: "Sometimes I think they reaped you because they knew I would love you." Annie and Finnick's full story, starting with Annie's Reaping and ending after Mockingjay. Annie's POV. Canon.
        Contents: Chapter 5: Scores
    

    


  

  
  
    
    
  Dear Cora, 

  I am currently sitting in the living room of District 4's apartment in the Training Center, and Finnick Odair is asleep against my legs. 
Before you freak out (I bet you already dropped the letter and called Marv into the room to read that line to him, didn't you? You did. I know you, Cor. Tell Marv I said hello), I should clarify how Finnick ended up asleep on the floor in the first place. He was sitting and telling Mags and I the rumors he's heard about this year's Games, but he fell asleep because someone might have switched his caffeinated coffee with decaf. It was Mags, but I'm not telling. Anyway, I was on the couch and he was sitting on the floor below it, and low and behold, I've now got the victor of the 65 th  Hunger Games asleep against me. I thought you would get a kick out of that. I wish you could have seen it; he was literally in the middle of a sentence when he dropped off to sleep. I've never seen anyone do that before. 
  It's nearing midnight here, and tomorrow I've got to go in for individual scoring. I wish terribly that you could be here for so many reasons. The Capitol is so colorful, Cora. It's this exotic place filled with neon yellows, as bright as yellow tang fish; deep blues, truer than any shade of the water; bright greens, as vivid as new grass that grows beside the house in the spring; and jarring reds, redder than blood. I wish I could explain it better, because I think it would be a great last gift to give you. A vivid mental image of the place you will never have to go (and I am thankful for that). The Capitol people dress so unusual. They dye their skin those bright colors and get tattoos and shapes tattooed onto them. My stylist has multicolored triangles that all join together tattooed across her body. It's strange, but you know me. The stranger the better. 

  There's also a state of mind here in the Capitol that is very uncomfortable for me. You should see the bloodlust, Cor. It's awful. It makes my skin scrawl like I've got bugs burrowing underneath my skin. They truly have no problems with the Games. In fact, they congratulate me for being "honored" by being chosen to participate in them. Our escort is completely enamored with the Games and talks about how she would handle being in them frequently, even going as far as stating she wishes she could be a tribute. I thought that Finnick was going to throw the knife he had in his hand at the time at her head. 

  I've been thinking of you, Arnav, and dad a lot. You're in my mind every moment, no matter what I am doing, or if I want you there or not. I guess you all have been thinking of me as well? Cora, my heart is aching as I write this. I know this is going to be the last thing I ever say to you, and it isn't even to you. There's so much I wanted to do, so much I wanted to see, so many words I wanted to say, so many sunrises and sunsets I wanted to watch. I feel each of them inside of me, and they weigh a ton. Every day I feel like I'm carting around sturdy wooden caskets. Occupied, of course. 

  I keep thinking about the summer Arnav turned six. The summer we all boarded Dad's boat and stayed in the sea for a month at least. I swear sometimes I can smell the scent of the ocean and taste the salt and feel the humidity of the air. At night I can hear the creaking of the boat and the whip of the sail. But most of all, I can see all four of us lying flat on our backs on the deck, watching the sky. It was the darkest blue I have ever seen, and it seemed like there wasn't even an inch that wasn't peppered with bright stars of every size. The stars aren't like that here. There aren't any stars at all. It's from all the bright lights, Mags says. I believe that. 

  I realized today why I kept thinking about that trip and that night. It's because that is probably the happiest I have ever been. Arnav kept telling that awful joke about the sailor and his dog, and you kept laughing hysterically each time he told it even after he'd reached a grand total of twelve retells, and dad was smiling more than he had since mom died, and Arnav laid with his head on my shoulder the entire night. His hair smelled like grass, I remember that too. 

  I want you to know that you and Dad and Arnav have made my life beautiful. You have always loved me unconditionally and never asked anything from me in return. And you especially, my sister who knows what to do in every situation and holds me together when I begin to feel like all my knots are coming untied. I have had so much fun sharing my childhood and my brief young adulthood with you, and I wouldn't trade the memories I have for anything, not even a pass to get out of these Games. 
I want you to remember that when you're watching the Games. I don't know what you're going to see, I don't know what is going to happen. But I do know I will die in the arena. And that's okay. You are going to be okay. No matter how awful it looks, no matter how much pain I seem to be in, know that I am thinking about that night on Dad's boat, that I'm not scared, and I'm happy. I'm happy for all I've lived, and I'm happy for my family more than anything. 
  I have a few things I need to ask of you and the rest of the family, and I am already acknowledging your acceptance to these, so know that I hold you to them. First, I want you and Marv to have tons of babies. Love them like you loved me and they will be so happy. Next, I want you to tell Arnav that I love him more than whales love fish and the fish love plankton. Tell Dad I love him too, and I am so thankful for all he's done. 

  I let it slip to Finnick that you're a fan, so I'm sure he's probably going to slide a signed picture into the envelope, so that can be your birthday present from me for all the birthdays I'm going to miss. He also promised me that he would give Arnav trident lessons whenever he wants, and I already told him I hold him to that, as well. He is doing me a huge favor by mailing this—a favor that could get him in huge trouble—so no matter what you think about the way he handles mentoring me in the arena, be kind to him. I know how stubborn you can be, so consider this one of my last wishes as well.
I want you all to also know that in the days leading up to the arena, I have been happy. Dreadfully and achingly miserable in moments, but cheerfully and serenely contented in others. I don't want you thinking my last days alive were wretched. I have formed a few memories so delightful that they go onto my list of favorite moments I have ever had, regardless of the situation I'm in, and I owe most of them to Finnick. I don't have words to express how wrong I was about him. You have full "I told you so" rights. I'm going to go ahead and imagine you saying it. Yes, Cora, you're right. You were right. He's just wonderful. And I don't mean that the Finnick you see in public is wonderful; he's lovely, but he's nothing like the Finnick in private. Finnick in private is something different in itself. He thinks in ways so similar to me, and not because we have been around each other for so long we are practically two parts of one whole as with you and I, but because we are made from the same stuff, whatever that may be and however that happens. He understands me, not what I say or what I don't say or what I do or what I don't do, but me as a person. It's bizarre, but it has been such a relief. I don't know what I would have done without him. He is such a great friend, and I use that word with complete and total honesty. I care about him and I put my trust into him. It's strange how well we get on, even though we technically have only just met, but I do so love strange things, and together we are odd in hilarious and wonderful ways. Sometimes it saddens me, because I think we would become the best of friends if I weren't running out of time. 
  Thank him for me again next time you see him, okay? Only don't show him this letter, because he doesn't need another burst of air into his already overly inflated ego. 

  I really should go to sleep now. I think ending this letter is harder than getting on the train to the Capitol was. Mom always did say I had separation issues. Mom really is always right, I guess. 

  I love you forever. 

  Love,Seashell
There's a period in time when you know something bad is going to happen. It's this feeling in the pit of your stomach and the tips of your fingers and the back of your neck. It's tense and restless, it's consuming and uncomfortable.I feel that way now. I've felt that way in varying degrees since I began that walk to the Reaping.I'm eating lunch by myself in the dining hall, nervously anticipating the moment when they are going to begin calling back tributes for scoring. I have a general idea of what I'm going to do, but I'm not entirely sure I'm not going to freeze up the moment I get into the room and mess it up.They've just called the male District 1 tribute when I hear yelling.I distinguish Chiron's voice immediately, having lived across the hall from him for a few days. He is screaming at the top of his lungs, so furious I can't make out a word of what he's saying. I rise to my feet and wring my hands, unsure of whether I should walk out into the hallway and see what has him so worked up or stay out of it completely.Concern wins out over caution, and I make my way hesitantly to the doorway. Chiron's temper is something I've seen in only one other occasion, and I was just as terrified then as I feel now.I peek out of the dining hall, and Chiron is standing in front of Osmium—the boy from 2—and his face is flushed a deep red. He's hollering and gesturing wildly, and Osmium has his arms tensed and his fists clenched, as if he's waiting for one slip of tongue to knock Chiron in the face."Chiron!" I call.They both fall silent immediately, turning to look at me. Chiron is panting heavily and Osmium's teeth are barred."What's wrong?" I ask him.Once asked, he looks fairly ashamed to be yelling at Osmium. He opens his mouth and then closes it, his eyes darting around wildly.Osmium takes advantage of this moment and shoves at Chiron. Chiron's head snaps around to face Osmium, and he's got a very hard look in his eyes."Stop!" I shriek as Chiron lifts his arm. "You'll both get in trouble!"Osmium flexes his fists and sneers. "You just wait until the arena, 4. You just wait," he tells Chiron.He stalks off, leaving me standing alone in the hallway with an angry Chiron.I stand still, my arms wrapped around my waist, waiting to see what Chiron is going to do. He ducks his head. We stand there for a full minute, no one moving or saying anything. He looks upset."Are you okay?" I ask softly.He keeps his head ducked down."What does it matter? We're dead soon anyway," he snaps.I take a few steps forward, keeping a cautious distance between us."So? We're still alive right now," I say.He shrugs."I just got so sick of the taunting," he explains. Districts 1 and 2 haven't stopped their assault on Chiron.I hear them call for the female District 1 tribute. My heart begins to beat quicker, my stomach clenching uncomfortably. Only a few more tributes left before 4."If you don't mind me asking, why didn't you want to be part of the Careers?" I finally ask.He grimaces."Do you remember last year's tribute?" he asks. "Sophia Belham?"It takes me a second to place the name to a face, but I remember well enough. Sophia volunteered at the age of fourteen, most likely hoping to follow Finnick's footsteps. She was in an alliance with the Careers for a total of thirty minutes when they turned on her and stabbed her to death. They claimed they had no real need for her. And if Chiron somehow has a connection to her, it explains why he's been so venomously against joining a Career pack, so quiet and forlorn practically every minute of every day, so distrusting of most of us."You knew her, didn't you?" I ask.He nods. "She was my best friend. We've know each other since—or, no, I guess that's wrong. We knew each other since we were toddlers."It stings. If it stings me like this, I can't imagine how painfully it must sting him."I'm sorry," I say honestly.He shrugs again. "It's not your fault. That's just why I hate 1 and 2. And why I hate the Capitol and everything about this. It reminds me so much of last year, watching the parade and scoring and interviews, wondering what she was doing in between then. Now I know, and I can't even share it with her, because she's dead." He crosses his arms tightly over his chest."It's very heavy to be without someone to share things with," I agree.He doesn't say anything else, and his name is called thirty minutes later. I'm so tense that I forget to wish him good luck.When my name is called, I somehow rise to my feet, and then I'm moving so quickly over the floor it's like I'm gliding. My dread for this to begin has now morphed into a desire to get it over with as soon as possible.I stand in front of the balcony holding tightly to the hem of my shirt. They stare expectantly at me. They're all just as flamboyantly dressed as everyone else in the Capitol. I think even the differences between our fashion helps to keep the Capitol from sympathizing with those they sentence to death. It's even hard for me to see them as people akin to myself, so I imagine they have a similar problem when faced with tributes. After all, if something is drastically different from yourself, where is the proof that they are one of you? There isn't any. This is all a mess.I clear my throat. I can't meet their eyes when I talk."My name's Annie Cresta. District 4," I whisper.The Head Gamemaker this year nods his head. "Let's see it then, Miss Cresta."I turn and survey the room. My eyes land on the rope. I walk rapidly over there and fall to the floor beside it. It takes me only a few minutes to make a fairly large net. After that, I throw it over my shoulder and walk over to the mannequin targets. I grab one of the knives on display beside the target area and it feels a lot heavier than the one I've been practicing with. That worries me.It isn't until I'm standing in front of the target, getting ready to throw the net, that I realize I have no place to put the knife while I do that. I freeze. If I set the knife down on the ground, I'll get points off for letting my weapon lie where it could be taken from me. If I keep it in my hand and try to throw the net with one hand, I'll most likely miss.Ignoring all safety rules completely, I bring the knife up to my mouth and bite down on the blunt end of the blade. The sharp metallic smell reminds me of blood.I bite down so tightly on the blade to keep it from falling that it physically pains me. All I know is that I don't want the weight of the handle to pull it down and out of my mouth, because it will most likely injure me on the way to the floor. I should have tried to bite it by the handle, but it's too late now.I lock eyes on the mannequin and fling the net away from my body. It lands on top of the mannequin just as Finnick and I practiced. I then quickly reach up to pull the knife from my mouth. Normally I stand very still for a few extended seconds, listening to Finnick's repetitive last minute advice, but I know I can't hesitate too long right now.I find myself hesitating anyway though, because it's much different to throw the knife at something that looks remarkably like a human opposed to a piece of foam. I repeat to myself over and over again that it's not alive, and then throw it forward. It sticks solidly into the belly of the mannequin—not exactly where I was aiming for, but enough of a critical blow for the difference not to matter a substantial amount.I back away from the scene of the staged murder, and then turn to face the balcony.The Gamemaker nods."Thank you, Miss Cresta."I nod. The words slip out before I think about what I'm saying."Thank you for watching," I say.A few look thrown aback by that, and I'm mentally berating myself. Thank you for watching? Yes, thank you for watching me demonstrate how I'm going to kill the other tributes that will be trying to murder me in the Games where only one can survive. I am very grateful for you taking the time. Thanks so much.I'm walking out when the Head Gamemaker replies."Trust us, the pleasure is all ours," he says.That is something I can definitely trust them on.The minute I walk into the apartment, Annora grabs my arm and pulls me into the living room."How did it go?" she questions. She leads me to the couch and sits me down. She then sits down in a chair next to the chair Mags is currently occupying.I glance around the living room, expecting to see Finnick lurking somewhere, but he's no where to be found. This confuses me, as he promised me last night when I was nervous that he'd be upstairs the entire time, ready to hear how it went the minute I got out."Where's Finnick?" I ask them. I look back at their faces and Mags is grimacing. Annora, on the other hand, doesn't look fazed at all. She blows the question off with a wave of her absurdly manicured hand."Oh, he had some business to get to in the Capitol. He'll be back before dinner." She says.I try my hardest not to look disappointed. Annora buys it with the same enthusiasm she probably bought the light-up dress she's wearing. Mags, on the other hand, just looks at me sadly.I sit there silently until Annora gives me a look so pointed that I remember she asked me a question."Oh, it went okay," I say. I have no desire to retell it in great detail. Annora, on the other hand, has a great desire to hear everything about it, right down to the shoes the Head Gamemaker was wearing.After suffering through her questions for at least an hour, she feels satisfied that her mental picture is complete."I'm guessing you'll probably get somewhere between a five and seven. You could have gotten higher, had you not hesitated. Why did you do that?" She asks.I'd explained my hesitation to throw, but hadn't clarified why. It seems just as foolish now as it did then."I'm just used to taking a second to collect myself before throwing. Helps with the aim," I lie. I feel guilty almost immediately after, and I avert my eyes and take to staring at the carpet. I don't have the words to explain to Annora—an avid lover of the Games and all the violence it ensues—that I cannot stand violence. That it makes my heart ache and my head throb and my limbs shake. That the first time I saw the Peacekeepers whip someone publicly, I cried for two hours. So I say nothing of it.After my detailed recount of the session, Annora leaves to go to Chiron's room to try and get him to tell her more about it. Mags and I sit in silence until she asks me a question. I miss it the first time, but she repeats herself."He wanted to be here, not there," she says.She doesn't have to clarify who or what she's talking about, and I don't pretend she has to. She knows that as much as I try to pretend that I don't, I do care that he wasn't here."It's fine. I'm a bit disappointed, but I'm sure Annora will love to have the job of retelling it to him once he gets back," I say. I smile, thinking of how enthusiastic Annora will get, and how it will probably turn into one of the overdramatic Capitol soap operas on television before she's done. Which is precisely why I'm sure Finnick will cut her off as politely and kindly as he can halfway through and ask me to tell it.Mags shakes her head."He's going to want to hear it from you.""I was thinking that might be the case," I say.I tug uneasily at my hair. I wonder what score I'm going to get. If it's anything better than awful, I worry the Careers are going to know I was exaggerating my sensitive side when I talked to them. Something tells me they won't get too thrilled over being tricked. I almost hope it's atrocious."So what's the real reason you waited to throw the knife?" Mags asks casually. I shoot her a look of disbelief, and she starts laughing. "You sweet child, no one but Annora could have fallen for that. You are horrible at lying."I smile sheepishly. "Yeah, I've always been rather poor at lying."She stares at me, waiting, until I retell that part of the story honestly."I'm afraid that that's the way it's going to be in the arena. That when it comes down to it, I'll freeze, and then I'll be dead," I say.She looks at me thoughtfully. The wrinkles around her eyes scrunch up as she thinks. "I think that had the mannequin been charging at you to hurt you, you'd be able to do it. It's one thing to think you're killing an innocent, unarmed person, and another to use a weapon to keep off someone who wants to hurt you."I hadn't thought of that before."I guess there's no way of knowing how I'll act in that kind of situation until I'm actually in it," I mumble.She nods, her face stretching into a wise smile. "You've got that right."I look down at my lap. It makes me feel both better and worse that there's no way to guess how I'm going to behave."Anything else eating at you?" Mags asks.I look up at her, knowing she can still read it on my face that I wish Finnick were here. It's really not that big of a deal though. Sure, I wish he were here, but he'll be back soon and I can't expect him to be here all day every day, even if it is his job to mentor me. It's safe to say he's gone above and beyond his mentoring responsibilities, so if he wants to take a few hours off, that's fine by me."I'm fine," I reply."I know you're fine. I just worry you think the boy wanted to leave and go where he did, and he didn't. There is a difference between leaving someplace because you want to and leaving because you absolutely have to," she explains.I wonder in what situation he would absolutely have to leave anywhere. He's Finnick Odair, he pretty much writes his own laws here in the Capitol (and back at home, now that I think of it).She answers my unasked question. "There are certain errands Snow makes him run. It's not pleasant for him, and he would rather be here. He's told me as much and I know that kid like the back of my hand."I feel ashamed then, like she thinks I think badly of him and she has to defend him."I don't think badly of him for not being here. I wouldn't even if he had left because he wanted to," I quickly say.She smiles kindly. "I know, Annie. I just wanted you to know that."I nod, feeling better that she knows I wasn't angry with Finnick. I know the two are close, so if she says he did something for a certain reason, I'm going to believe her. I wonder if they got close before his Games or after. In fact, I don't know for certain that she was even his mentor then."Were you Finnick's mentor?" I ask.She laughs. "I still am!"I grin, thinking about all the instances that I've seen that truth demonstrated."Good point."She stretches her legs out, her knees popping. She massages them for a moment and then looks back at me."I love him dearly. I've never had a family of my own, but that boy's my son in all the ways that matter," she says.I can't help but smile at the sudden thought of a tiny Finnick grasping Mags hand as they walk across the streets in District 4."I can tell he loves you just as much."She smiles. "We were very fortunate the day they paired us up as mentor and tribute."She falls silent for a few long moments and then looks back at me, catching my eye."It's funny how serendipitous mentor and tribute pairings can be."I'm trying to dissect her statement when our conversation is interrupted."Aw, Mags, do you really think this is the time and place for matchmaking?"Finnick walks into the room, dressed in a white suit with buttons so gold I'm almost positive they're the real deal.Mags looks away from Finnick, turning her nose up to the air."Sorry, Finnick, I didn't hear a word you just said. My hearing aid's turned off," she says.Finnick rolls his eyes and then shoots me a smile."Well then, my dear friend!" he says. He sits down on the couch beside me. "How did it go?"Mags sneaks out of the room the same way she did the other night and I retell the full and honest story to Finnick."Don't even worry about pausing. It sounds like you did so well! Good job, Annie," he grins.I beam back. A comfortable silence falls over us."Oh, and Finnick?" I ask."Hmm?""I did it with my hair down."The scoring takes place after dinner.We all sit around the television. Chiron looks completely at ease. I, on the other hand, am a lot more nervous than I thought I would be. After ten minutes of nervously bouncing my right leg up and down, Finnick firmly sets his hand on my knee, stilling it. I look up at him."Everything is going to be fine," he murmurs. I stare into his eyes, searching to make sure he's not lying to me. Nothing seems to even hint as dishonesty, so I nod.They have a brief introduction where they explain the scoring again, and then they start reading out the scores. Julius gets a nine and Sapphire a ten. Aly scores an eight, and Osmium follows after Julius with a score of nine.The two tributes from three get two sevens, and then it's onto Chiron and me. I feel a brief sensation of jealousy for District 12, who gets the longest amount of time to prepare for everything."Chiron Siot, with a score of...10!"Chiron looks fairly shocked, but that quickly melts into an expression of relief. In order to not get killed by the Careers immediately out of revenge he needed a high enough score to be seen as intimidating. I think a ten will do him nicely."That's wonderful, Chiron!" I congratulate him.A few more congratulations and a pat on the back later, and they're saying my name."Annie Cresta, with a score of…6!"Finnick wraps an arm around my shoulders and gives me a friendly squeeze. He smells off again, like someone else and not himself. I don't think I like it."That's great, Annie! You did well enough to seem competent but you won't be made into an immediate target," he says.Mags pats my arm. Annora says something along the lines of, well, it could be worse!Finnick pulls back and taps my nose playfully."Who knew our little Annie Cresta had it in her!" He coos.I try and shoot him a fake glare, but I know it comes off poorly. I eventually give up and smile at him, which is a much more natural display of emotions.Annora leads a conversation all about how excited she is for the interviews and only stops talking every now and then to hear brief input from everyone else. She seems to finally run out of things to talk about after a while, and then she takes to contently humming. I let my mind wander as I stare out the window into the busy Capitol streets."Annora?" I ask.She looks up excitedly. Finnick turns to look at me."Yes? Do you want me to tell your stylist about that new shade of neon pink?" She asks. It takes me a moment to realize that must have been what she just finished talking about. I admit I zoned out somewhere around her explanations of why orange is a summer color, and not a fall."I was just thinking…I see a good amount of children around the Capitol, but I've never once seen a pregnant woman," I say.She laughs once quickly, and it has the high pitched frequency of a nervous, embarrassed laugh."Oh, Annie! Why on earth would you?" she asks.I don't know how to answer that.Finnick steps in."Annora, in District 4 they do things differently. Women usually go out freely the entire time they're pregnant," he says.Both Annora and I seem to have been unaware that it was different anywhere else."The mothers don't mind?" Annora asks, completely scandalized.Her question confuses me greatly."Mothers?" I ask. "They're the mothers."Finnick's body shifts a bit to the right. His side is warm against mine, and for a minute I feel as though he's protecting me from something, but I don't understand what."Once the baby is born, yes!" Annora agrees.Her wording has me befuddled."Annie, women in the Capitol employ other women to carry and then give birth to their children. These women stay in the house of the expecting mother until after the delivery," Mags explains.I'm so shocked I don't remember to hide the emotion."You mean women carry their own babies in District 4? And go out in public during it?" Annora asks.I nod numbly.It seems the differences between the Capitol and the districts are greater than I thought. The Capitol is truly and completely detached from human empathy and connection. It goes further than them not recognizing us as people; they truly don't care about anything that puts them out in the slightest. They like the Games because it's entertainment, so it doesn't matter what is happening to anyone else. Sure, they can be kind in their own small ways, and they are all kind in the way of politeness, but I feel they have no idea of what it's like to be self-sacrificing. They refuse to give life of their own because it is a sacrifice, and instead pay someone else to do it. The arrogance of the Capitol has extended so far as to shame pregnancy and make it something that's locked away behind closed doors. An inconvenience only those being paid in material goods would ever consider taking part in. They've cheapened one of the noblest acts a human can do, and for some reason this shocks me more than the Games, more than the fashion, more than the architecture. Or maybe it's just that this, combined with everything else, makes me see the Capitol as something far less misunderstood as I did before."How dreadful!" Annora says.I want to explain to her that what they do is dreadful. That I am upset by their culture and the way they live. But I know I could never get her to understand.It isn't until later that night that I talk about how it makes me feel."The Capitol is a very corrupt place," Finnick says.We're sitting on the roof again. We were playing some Capitol card game inside with Annora and Chiron, but it quickly ended when Annora began retelling her favorite kills in Hunger Games history with detail to rival her description of summer and fall colors. I must have looked bothered, because Finnick offered to take me up to the roof for some fresh air. I desperately needed it."You know, I didn't really think that until today. I mean I knew that they were wrong, but I just chalked it up to culture differences. The…disgust of their lifestyles didn't really hit until today," I say.Finnick reaches over and fiddles with my hair. It's such an affectionate and comfortable gesture that I'm instantly calmed. He slides his fingers through it and braids it and then undoes it and starts the cycle over again."My mother always said that the most amazing part of being a parent was learning to love something more than you love yourself," he says. "I don't think anyone here knows anything about that."I wrap my arms around myself and agree with him."The sooner you're out of the Capitol, the better," Finnick says, almost more to himself than me. "It's an awful place. District 4 has its faults, but it's better than this." He pauses. "Anywhere is better than here."Sitting here, watching the lights from the giant screens reflect down on the streets below, with Finnick running his hands through my hair, I can't help but think that it's really not as bad as he makes it out to me. At least not right here, and not in this moment. I have nothing to say for anywhere else here.'
User: Summarize the chapter based on the content provided, ensuring to follow the set format and emphasize key aspects within the specified length.
User: Summarize the chapter based on the content provided, ensuring to follow the set format and emphasize key aspects within the specified length.
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