#sugar cube

The moment she stepped out of the arena is when the real trials began. She was Snow’s puppet, used to flaunt around like a prize. The only thing she supposes she can be grateful for is since she is in so high demand, Snow keeps her close. Not just anyone can touch her.

She’s valuable to him. She has a special talent that he values and it’s her ability to sing. To put on a show. She’s a desirable Victor no doubt, but Snow has never been one to let her get too far off her leash. It’s exhausting. Especially being a newer winner of the Games.

The Canary is what they call her. Fragile yet beautiful. So it was quite the shock to find out how dangerous she truly was when seeing her in the arena. Being from an outlier District, no one expected much from her. But as soon as she got her throwing knives and a sickle in her hand, they realized how much they underestimated her.

Fourteen out of the Twenty-four Tributes died because of her.

That’s how desperate she was to get home. To get back to her family. But at that time she didn’t know she’d be spending more time in the Capitol than she ever would back home. It was performance after performance with an occasional day or two spent back in District Ten. If she would have known this would be what her life would turn into, she would’ve let the dry desert conditions kill her. But at least her family was taken care of. That’s all that matters.

She misses them, of course. Everyday she calls and hopes they’re doing well. But there’s no point in getting her hopes up to see them again.

That hope was only stripped further away when she ended up being reaped for the Quarter Quell.

A small part of her wondered if Snow meant for this to happen. Perhaps she lost some of the value she once had to him, but judging by the tight look on his face when she arrived with her Tribute partner, he wasn’t happy.

There weren’t many female Tributes to choose from in their District. While it terrifies her to be thrown back into the arena, there’s a reason she has the most kills out of any Victor in the Games.

When she’s desperate, she’s not afraid to get her hands dirty.

The only thing is, this time she isn’t desperate to get out. She wouldn’t mind dying this time. Maybe then she could experience real freedom and not the fake kind she was promised among her first winning.

Coming into the 75th Games was rather nerve wracking. Most of the Tributes that were reaped know each other, they’ve made friends, alliances. Y/N has never been permitted to go far enough away from Snow or his guards to make friends. Or to at least get someone to trust her. Even her escort was unsure of her chances this time around simply because she’s an outsider.

The only other two that seem to be in a similar boat is last years winners from District Twelve. Katniss Everdeen and Peeta Mellark. But the Girl on Fire doesn’t seem to keen on making friends. Not that Y/N blames her. Making nice with the people of the Capitol, let alone the previous Victors was no easy feat.

If Y/N could voice how she truly feels about the people she’s surrounded by, she no doubt would be hung for her very choice words.

Loud cheers erupt from overhead as she walks out to the chariots before the Tribute parade. They chant her name like a prayer as she saunters forward, but she pays no mind to the attention. Her eyes remain on the dark horses that sit politely as they wait for the parade to start.

Her long, golden dress sways freely behind her as her heels click against the concrete. The subtle shimmering patterns on the sheer white fabric resembling the free flowing image of crops being pushed by a light breeze in a large field. Her heels wind up around her calves, the thin straps also resembling the tips of wheat as it reaches the top.

The design was reminiscent of the bounty of her district, but the material was so thin that it left very little to the imagination. The gown was made in a way that accentuated her curves and showed off her body. A pair of golden shoulder plates added a touch of intimidation, making her look like the warrior she became in her first games.

She finds it hard to take deep breaths, her waist cinched into the corset so tightly that she might have permanent internal damage by the time the night is over. Golden strands are weaved throughout her hair which is braided into a half crown that rests atop her head.

This outfit is rather different than the usual ones Snow has her put in. It’s much less innocent than what she’s used to. He usually wants her portrayed as his perfect rose, incapable of tarnish. But perhaps things are different now that he might lose her.

She fights the urge to dig her nails into the palm of her hand by distracting herself. She pets the soft mane of the horse in front of her, the magnificent creature leaning into her touch like they’ve known each other for years.

Judging by the looks she’s currently receiving from the other Tributes, this horse might be the only positive relationship she’ll form over the next couple of days.

“How did we end up here, huh?” She asks the horse quietly, scratching him in the exact right place. He huffs happily which makes Y/N’s heart warm. It doesn’t happen often, but she does try to notice the beauty that’s left in Panem.

“Well, well, today must be a momentous occasion,” a sultry voice rings out behind her, making a shiver run down her spine. “The Canary has finally been let out of her cage.”

Y/N spins on her heel, her eyes narrowed. The black eyeliner making her stare look even more deadly. She stares unamused as Finnick Odair in all of his glory walks towards her, sugar cube in hand. He tosses it in the air before licking his lips seductively, stopping a bit too close to her.

She can feel his body heat radiating off of him, making her cheeks flush at their close proximity. She thought she had the right to complain about how revealing her outfit was, but she stands corrected. Finnick is the closest anyone could be to naked. Only a small golden net strategically knotted at his groin for some form of modesty.

“Finnick…” Y/N trails off, continuing to remain uninterested as she continues petting the horse in front of her.

“I never thought I’d live to see the day,” he laughs breathily, still rolling the sugar cube between his fingers. His breath though gives off the sickly sweet aroma that he’s already helped himself to quite a few of those cubes before heading over to her. “Where I’d finally get to see you up close,” his eyes rake up and down her form hypnotically. She understands now why everyone has fallen for this man. He makes it hard not to. “I’ve been to a few of your shows, and I must say, you are just as mesmerizing up close.”

“You think so?” She comments dryly, finally giving him the time of day by turning to fully face him.

Finnick laughs again, “You’re a closed off little thing, aren’t you?” He once again licks his lips, sucking all the oxygen out of Y/N’s lungs. “I have to admit, this is a very different persona from what I’ve seen in your interviews.”

“I’m sorry I’m not living up to your expectations,” she crosses her arms. “But you’ll have to forgive me for not caring. I mean, you would know all about differing personas wouldn’t you?” She quirks a challenging brow.

“Ooh, so she does have teeth,” Finnick nods, tilting his head as he analyzes her every move. “I like that.”

“Are you telling me you want me to bite you, Odair?” Y/N’s lip twitched upward slightly as she returns some of his flirty nature.

“I wouldn’t necessarily be opposed,” he fires back just as smoothly. He leans in closer to her, “But just a warning, I tend to bite back,” his smirk would be infuriating if Y/N wasn’t extremely attracted to him.

“I don’t know if you saw my Games, but I don’t mind playing rough,” she returns his smirk. “Despite the good girl reputation I’ve been bestowed, I’m not as innocent as people would believe.”

His eyes darken and his pupils dilate as his vision takes in her form. She clearly said something he likes. “I’m starting to believe that’s true.” He sticks his hand out towards her, “Sugar cube?” He offers.

Deciding to play into the light banter they have going on, Y/N leans forward, making direct eye contact with the sea foam green eyes in front of her. She gracefully wraps her lips around the sweet treat, letting it dissolve on her tongue before pulling away. Finnick can’t seem to look away. She’s truly is very different than the person he thought she was.

He raises his finger up, a small bit of sugar still left, “You missed a spot.”

Y/N knows better than to let his flirty behavior rattle her. “Oh, I’m sorry,” she grins, leaning forward again as she grips his wrist gently. She brings his finger to her lips before licking the remaining sugar off. “Better?”

“Much,” his eyes flicker to her lips. “Y’know, it really is too bad this is our first conversation. I feel like we would have had a lot of… fun had we gotten to know each other sooner.”

“Who says we can’t have fun now?” Y/N counters, using her new height from the heels to her advantage. While Finnick still towers over her, she can meet his stature much easier with the stilts on her feet. Their noses are practically touching at this point. “The only question is if you’re willing to take the risk. Getting involved with a caged bird is risky business.”

“I have a feeling you’re not as caged as you pretend to be,” he whispers, using his pointer finger to tilt her chin up. “What do you say you tell me all those secrets you seem to keep locked away?”

“What do I get out of it?” Y/N challenges. “I have a lot of things to keep hidden, Odair. I can’t just go spilling everything to every pretty blonde who flashes a smile.”

“What other pretty blondes do you know?” He questions cockily.

“I mean, I have to say, the newbie is pretty easy on the eyes,” she nods over to Peeta who just emerged from the hall, a nervous look on his face. “I’m not easily persuaded, Finnick. If you want to know my secrets, you’ll have to try a bit harder than that.”

“I think you’ll find that I don’t give up easily,” he places his hand on her waist, his fingers digging into the soft flesh. “I’ll make you sing, Bird. Don’t you worry.”

“Oh, so we’re already at the nickname phase?” Y/N says teasingly. “Seems our relationship is progressing pretty quickly, Peacock.”

A genuine laugh leaves his lips, not the fake or seductive one he always uses. “Yeah, yeah, I guess it is.”

“You’re rather forward considering the fact we just met,” Y/N places her own hands on his chest, dusting off invisible particles from his tan skin.

“And you’re rather receptive,” he adds, enjoying the feeling of her delicate fingers on his skin.

There’s a certain electricity brewing between them. He’s always found her intriguing, like a beautiful jewel he can stare at but never touch. Hence why he can’t help but hold her closer to his body, to make sure that this is real. That he really is touching the woman he’s watched from afar for so long.

“I’ve waited to meet you in person for a long time, Bird,” Finnick’s voice is low, only loud enough for her to hear. From the outside, it would look like the Capitol Darling trying to intimidate the innocent Canary with his flirtatious tactics. No one would know just how much she’s relishing in the attention.

“Well, I suppose the question is now that you’ve met me… What do you plan on doing with me?” She somehow manages to push herself closer, her lips practically grazing his.

It takes every fiber of Finnick’s being not to close the distance, but he can’t. Not here. “Believe me, there are plenty of things I plan on doing to you when I have the chance,” he says huskily. “Unfortunately, I can’t act on those impulses now.”

“I’m sure we can work around that,” she whispers back. “Two a.m., my room. The guards take five minutes to change shifts. It’s a short window, so don’t be late.”

And with that, she backs up, batting her eyelashes if nothing happens. “It was nice chatting with you, Finnick.” She winks subtly at him before mounting her chariot, leaving the Prince of Panem speechless.