Hunger Games fic: The Dark Before the Dawn (pg-13)
Title: The Dark Before the Dawn
Rating: PG-13
Word count: 769
Focus: Annie Cresta/Finnick Odair
Beta: none
Setting: at home in District 4, between Annie's Victory Tour and the 71st Games
Summary: It’s rare that I have a night when the nightmares don’t wake me.
Warnings: none
Author's note: written for roseofsinnoh on Tumblr for the prompt "Finnick and Annie, Quiet Me."
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Annie woke to the sound of screaming.
Her heart pounding in her chest, gasping for air herself, she searched the darkness for the source of the awful sounds. The bed shifted as someone kicked her and a bright spot of pain bloomed on her shin. Choking off a scream of her own, she turned as the man beside her shot bolt upright, grasping at the sheets and shouting, “NO!”
Trying to push down the terror of not knowing where she was, of waking in someone else’s bed, it all came flooding back.
… walking on the beach, trying to sort out her feelings, to process what had happened between her and Finnick the night before…
… knocking on his door with no memory of how she got there and the way her heart tripped in her chest at the sight of his welcoming smile…
… talking for hours on the floor in front of his fireplace, a cheerful blaze dancing within it until they ran out of wood and it died down to embers…
… Finnick taking her hand when she shivered at the chill in the air as the fire died out and then leading her to his bedroom…
… endless kisses and caresses as they slowly stripped away the barriers of cloth that kept her skin from his and his from hers…
… the feel of him moving inside her as tension coiled tighter and tighter, narrowing until the only thing that existed was that point where their two bodies became one…
… and after, falling asleep in his arms, safe for the first time in months and happy for the first time in forever.
Laughter bubbled up inside her and escaped into the darkness that grew less heavy with the first streaks of dawn. The memories washed over Annie in a matter of seconds, quickly followed by the darker memory of what woke her in the first place. Unable to completely kill her laughter, all but cutting herself on the hysterical edge of it, Annie threw herself into Finnick’s arms; they closed reflexively around her and she felt the tremors in them as the nightmare refused to let him go.
“Finnick, it’s okay,” she said between kisses peppered over his mouth and nose and eyes and chin. “You’re home. Nothing will hurt you here.” The tiny sounds that still escaped him, no longer anything as robust as screams but every bit as terrified, frightened Annie. This was Finnick: she’d never seen him afraid of anything. “Finnick, please…” she whispered against his hair, stroking his bare shoulders, his back, his skin warm against her palms. And still those sounds slipped out. “Hush.” She kissed his forehead, brushed at the stray strands of his hair that clung to her lips. His arms tightened around her. He shuddered, burying his face against Annie’s neck.
“I should never have let you stay.”
She felt his words, feather touches against her neck; she shivered and went still. Suddenly, Annie couldn’t think. She couldn’t breathe past the lump that rose in her throat. She closed her eyes, scrunched them shut before opening them again. His bedroom was light enough now that she could see the faintest hint of color - a drop of blue-green in the walls, a deeper blue in the curtains that he’d never drawn across the window.
Able to breathe again, she inhaled deeply and tried to pull away from him, but he didn’t let her go. “Annie?” His voice sounded like his again, like Finnick.
“I’m sorry,” she told him, glad that her voice didn’t shake. “I didn’t mean to overstay my welcome.” She felt his muscles stiffen.
“Your…?” He bit off a curse, then, “Annie, no, that’s not what I meant at all.” He finally loosened his hold on her only to raise a hand to stroke her cheek. Annie could see the green of his eyes as he searched her face. “I probably should have said I’m sorry I disturbed your sleep.” He looked away from her then, looked down at her hands on top of the sheets and lifted them to kiss her knuckles, first one hand and then the other. Meeting her gaze once more, he continued, “I don’t… stay with anyone. It’s rare that I have a night when the nightmares don’t wake me. It’s not always screams, but…” His voice trailed off and Annie thought he looked embarrassed in the pale sunlight that filtered into the room.
Embarrassed herself, Annie whispered, “I thought you didn’t want me here.”
“Not want you here?” He smiled at her then, and leaned his forehead against hers. “I don’t ever want you to leave.”
Rating: PG-13
Word count: 769
Focus: Annie Cresta/Finnick Odair
Beta: none
Setting: at home in District 4, between Annie's Victory Tour and the 71st Games
Summary: It’s rare that I have a night when the nightmares don’t wake me.
Warnings: none
Author's note: written for roseofsinnoh on Tumblr for the prompt "Finnick and Annie, Quiet Me."
-----------------------
Annie woke to the sound of screaming.
Her heart pounding in her chest, gasping for air herself, she searched the darkness for the source of the awful sounds. The bed shifted as someone kicked her and a bright spot of pain bloomed on her shin. Choking off a scream of her own, she turned as the man beside her shot bolt upright, grasping at the sheets and shouting, “NO!”
Trying to push down the terror of not knowing where she was, of waking in someone else’s bed, it all came flooding back.
… walking on the beach, trying to sort out her feelings, to process what had happened between her and Finnick the night before…
… knocking on his door with no memory of how she got there and the way her heart tripped in her chest at the sight of his welcoming smile…
… talking for hours on the floor in front of his fireplace, a cheerful blaze dancing within it until they ran out of wood and it died down to embers…
… Finnick taking her hand when she shivered at the chill in the air as the fire died out and then leading her to his bedroom…
… endless kisses and caresses as they slowly stripped away the barriers of cloth that kept her skin from his and his from hers…
… the feel of him moving inside her as tension coiled tighter and tighter, narrowing until the only thing that existed was that point where their two bodies became one…
… and after, falling asleep in his arms, safe for the first time in months and happy for the first time in forever.
Laughter bubbled up inside her and escaped into the darkness that grew less heavy with the first streaks of dawn. The memories washed over Annie in a matter of seconds, quickly followed by the darker memory of what woke her in the first place. Unable to completely kill her laughter, all but cutting herself on the hysterical edge of it, Annie threw herself into Finnick’s arms; they closed reflexively around her and she felt the tremors in them as the nightmare refused to let him go.
“Finnick, it’s okay,” she said between kisses peppered over his mouth and nose and eyes and chin. “You’re home. Nothing will hurt you here.” The tiny sounds that still escaped him, no longer anything as robust as screams but every bit as terrified, frightened Annie. This was Finnick: she’d never seen him afraid of anything. “Finnick, please…” she whispered against his hair, stroking his bare shoulders, his back, his skin warm against her palms. And still those sounds slipped out. “Hush.” She kissed his forehead, brushed at the stray strands of his hair that clung to her lips. His arms tightened around her. He shuddered, burying his face against Annie’s neck.
“I should never have let you stay.”
She felt his words, feather touches against her neck; she shivered and went still. Suddenly, Annie couldn’t think. She couldn’t breathe past the lump that rose in her throat. She closed her eyes, scrunched them shut before opening them again. His bedroom was light enough now that she could see the faintest hint of color - a drop of blue-green in the walls, a deeper blue in the curtains that he’d never drawn across the window.
Able to breathe again, she inhaled deeply and tried to pull away from him, but he didn’t let her go. “Annie?” His voice sounded like his again, like Finnick.
“I’m sorry,” she told him, glad that her voice didn’t shake. “I didn’t mean to overstay my welcome.” She felt his muscles stiffen.
“Your…?” He bit off a curse, then, “Annie, no, that’s not what I meant at all.” He finally loosened his hold on her only to raise a hand to stroke her cheek. Annie could see the green of his eyes as he searched her face. “I probably should have said I’m sorry I disturbed your sleep.” He looked away from her then, looked down at her hands on top of the sheets and lifted them to kiss her knuckles, first one hand and then the other. Meeting her gaze once more, he continued, “I don’t… stay with anyone. It’s rare that I have a night when the nightmares don’t wake me. It’s not always screams, but…” His voice trailed off and Annie thought he looked embarrassed in the pale sunlight that filtered into the room.
Embarrassed herself, Annie whispered, “I thought you didn’t want me here.”
“Not want you here?” He smiled at her then, and leaned his forehead against hers. “I don’t ever want you to leave.”