“How do you bear it?”
Finnick looks at me in disbelief. “I don’t, Katniss! Obviously, I don’t. I drag myself out of nightmares each morning and find there’s no relief in waking.” Something in my expression stops him. “Better not to give in to it. It takes ten times as long to put yourself back together as it does to fall apart.”
(Source: grringirl, via theinfernaldevices)
“Finnick!” Something between a shriek and a cry of joy. A lovely if somewhat bedraggled young woman-dark tangled, sea-green eyes-runs towards us. “Finnick!” And suddenly, it’s as if there’s no one in the world. They collide, enfold, lose their balance, and slam against a wall, where they stay.
Clinging into one being. Indivisible. No one seeing them could doubt their love.”
(Source: parsletongue, via odairbear)
I tried to make a click and drag.
In the order: Cinna, Primrose, Mr Everdeen, Finnick, Rue, Boggs, and all the people who died.
For the first time, I get a good look at them. A mix of human and lizard and who knows what else. White, tight reptilian skin smeared with gore, clawed hands and feet, their faces a mess of conflicting features. Hissing, shrieking my name now, as their bodies contort in rage. Lashing out with tails and claws, taking huge chunks of one another or their own bodies with wide, lathered mouths, driven mad by their need to destroy me. My scent must be as evocative to them as theirs is to me. More so, because despite its toxicity, the mutts begin to throw themselves into the foul sewer (…).
“Climb!” Gale barks at me. I’m back up, hauling him in, peering into the gloom for more. “No.” Gale turns my face to him and shakes his head. Uniform shredded. Gaping wound in the side of his neck.
There’s a human cry from below. “Someone’s still alive,” I plead.
“No, Katniss. They’re not coming,” says Gale. “Only the mutts are.“
Unnable to accept it, I shine the light from Cressida’s gun down the shaft. Far below, I can just make out Finnick, struggling to hang on as three mutts tear at him. As one yanks back his head to take the death bite, something bizarre happens. It’s as if I’m Finnick, watching images of my life flash by. The mast of a boat, a silver parachute, Mags laughing, a pink sky, Beetee’s trident, Annie in her wedding dress, waves breaking over rocks.
Then it’s over.
(Source: mrhawthorne, via theprincessinthetower)
Finnick and I sit for a long time in silence, watching the knots bloom and vanish, before I can ask, “How do you bear it?”
Finnick looks at me in disbelief. “I don’t, Katniss! Obviously, I don’t. I drag myself out of nightmares each morning and find there is no relief in waking.” Something in my expression stops him. “Better not give in to it. It takes ten times as long to put yourself together as it does to fall apart.”
(via foxfaced)
“Finnick recites a poem he wrote to his one true love in the Capitol, and about a hundred people faint because they’re sure he means them.”
(via muggleland)
