A/N: A Guest reviewed my PepperxThor fanfiction (10 Signs She's In Love With You) asking when I was going to post another Finniss fanfiction. This is my answer. I hope you enjoy it! It's my first time writing in the present tense! :)

Reading Time: 5 mins.

Disclaimer: I do not own The Hunger Games.

**EDIT**05/31/2015 I've decided to split this story into 3 parts, so there have been some changes made to the chapters/chapter titles.

Pt I.

Chapter one: Clear to Smoke~

It's dark.

The training room is lifeless and empty, with nothing to aid her eyesight except the dimly lit overhead lights descending down the length of the room in a pale, never-ending row, and the deafening silence leaves a barely audible ringing in her ears. It's strange – almost creepy – how different the place looks at night, when no one else is there. The space that she and Peeta and the others occupied just hours before is now hollow, without any form of energy or life, and goosebumps form on her arms as the chill it holds finally wafts over her bare arms and collarbone.

Katniss exhales, an action that would have been silent if the room wasn't so empty, and steps forward, intent on doing what she came here to do.

She walks, the muscles in her calves loosening and contracting with each step, as she glances over at the different stations.

Archery, melee, trapping...

Finally she sees it – the rope station.

Gradually, she changes direction and shifts towards her destination of choice, not really knowing why she's chosen it other than she hasn't tried it yet, and as she draws nearer she almost doesn't expect it to power on - after all, why would any of the simulations work after training hours? - but nevertheless it does; she steps onto the pressure-sensitive tile and the screen comes on, its bright blue light making her eyes ache in the surrounding darkness, and everything in her peripherals quickly fades to complete blackness.

She exhales again and starts the simulation, choosing at random what she's going to learn.

The program chooses the lesson based on her selection, and suddenly she's berated with moving images of transparent rope knotting itself together all too quickly, and she realizes that she has no knowledge of rope or knots and that she probably should have chosen something of an easier difficulty, but still she tries. After all, she has nothing better to do; the nightmares have gotten worse, and she doesn't want to give Peeta another sleepless night.

She grabs the practice rope hanging off of the metal hook in front of her, failing several times over to recreate the knot the screen is showing her, but is not discouraged or deterred. She will get this knot, even if it takes her all night.

An immeasurable amount of time later, and she still can't get it right.

The rope just won't look how she wants it to look, no matter how many twists and turns and loops she does, and she becomes frustrated that the Capitol wouldn't have made a slower video tutorial for those with little to no experience with rope-tying or knots. Though she regrets her decision to choose such a complicated knot at random, she's not in the least bit discouraged. Angered, yes, but even though a considerable amount of time has passed she can't find it in herself to just give up.

"Light sleeper?"

She whips her head to her left, her sore neck cracking a little with the sudden movement, concentration broken as her eyes fall on the ever-flawless form of Finnick Odair.

She doesn't know what he's doing up at this hour, but she doesn't particularly care either. She's not really in the mood to talk, as Finnick is so famously known to do (when he's not 'entertaining' guests, that is), but she is quick to come to terms with the fact that she will no longer be able to ride out the night in quiet solace as she wracks her brain and whips up a reply.

"...No. But I am now."

He walks closer then, as if her answer somehow doubled as an invitation to indulge in small talk and invade her personal space, and it suddenly feels like the station she's situated at isn't thirty meters away. She turns her head and focuses her attention back on the rope.

"Nightmares?" He asks, once he's within whispering distance.

She freezes, her hands locking up and her spine going rigid, but doesn't reply. Unfortunately, with one as intuitive as Finnick Odair, he takes that as a reply in and of itself.

"Yeah. Me too. We all get 'em. Don't worry about it."

She doesn't know which is more strange to her: the thought of Finnick Odair having nightmares or the way he plays it off so nonchalantly, as though it's perfectly normal and the whole world deals with it. She decides on the former. She makes no move to say anything more and gives him no indication that she'll do so, but apparently he's not done talking. And as she ties and unties the rope in her overworked hands, she wonders if it's just a part of who he is, and something that can never be changed.

"So what are you doing?"

Irritation flares up inside of her at such a stupid question; what does it look like she's doing? But she bites it down and - by the goodness of her heart - graces him with an answer. "Tying knots."

"Knots?" He echoes, and already she regrets opening her mouth. "Since when have you been fascinated with rope?"

"Since just now," she says, the irritation in her voice clearly showing through as she hastens her movements with yet another unsuccessful knot.

It's silent for a few moments, and for a second she thinks that maybe he'll keep his mouth shut and let her work on figuring out how to accomplish her task, but just as she suspects, it's wishful thinking.

"What kind of knot are you trying to do?"

She snaps then, smacking the rope down against the bar it's fastened to and exhaling sharply, glaring at him despite the fact that she can't properly see him in the darkness due to staring at the blue screen for so long.

"What does it look like, Odair?"

He visibly perks up then, as though he's been waiting for this outburst, and he all-too-happily answers as he says, "Well the screen looks like a double constrictor knot. But that," he points to the limp rope in her hands. "Looks like a toddler trying to tie their shoe."

She scoffs. "Really? Well how would you do it, then, oh, Great Odair?"

He bows his head and steps forward, not bothering to hide his mirth-filled smirk as he embraces her dripping sarcasm like a warm hug. "Like this."

Without asking, he takes the rope in her hands and gently extracts it, the stray fibers poking at her fingers and palms as it slides from her grip, and she watches on in anger and resentment as he effortlessly ties the knot she's been attempting for the past fifteen minutes in mere seconds.

And he's not even looking at the screen as he does it; she watches his skilled hands and easy movements, like flowing water, and suddenly she realizes – he's done this before. Many times, by the looks of it. He's too comfortable and too happy to show her up on something she'd had no idea he was so skilled at, until now.

He finishes, using the extra length to add a little bow atop his double constrictor knot (or whatever it's called) and presents it to her as one would a bouquet.

"There. See?"

The act is chivalrous, and yet all it does is anger her further.

She exhales hotly, nostrils flaring like an ox. "Bite me, Odair."

His eyes almost sparkle then, glinting with unsettling mirth as he leers closer. "Believe me, Fire Girl - I'd love to."

She instinctively leans away, the upper half of her body angling at a humorous position, but snaps her spine back a moment later to snatch the rope back from him.

"What is it with you?" She asks, furrowing her brows and eyeing him up and down suspiciously.

His smirk only grows wider. "What do you mean?"

"You know what I mean," she snaps, the emphasized word just loud enough to echo out into the room. The innocent look he gives her only manages to anger her further, and though her words are low, they have the effect of a whip. "What is it with you? Why are you so...flirty?" She says the word as though it's a worm trying to wriggle its way out of her mouth, and her face contorts in such a way that he can't seem to help chuckling.

"Why, Fire Girl? Does it make you..." He steps forward and leans in close, drawing out his reply as his face slides past hers and hovers by her ear, and it's so quiet that she can hear the steady breath he's drawing in through his mouth. "...Uncomfortable?"

She jerks back and swats him away, absolutely infuriated with his shameless behavior. "Ugh, you're disgusting!"

He tilts his head and shrugs, momentarily drawing the corners of his mouth down in thought. "Well I can't say I've heard that one before. You know, most ladies in your position would have died by now."

She doesn't hold back her scoff. "From repulsion?"

He smirks again, irking her even further by lifting his eyebrows suggestively. "No; from quite the opposite."

She wants to throw another smart comeback at him but nothing comes to her. She's angry and annoyed, and she realizes that as long as he's here, she's not going to accomplish what she came here to do. She'll never achieve a sense of calm as long as he's around, and she knows that if she doesn't quit now she'll only leave with her anger heightened to a point that prevents her from ever getting back to sleep.

She quietly scoffs to herself, shaking her head as she moves to brush past him. "Whatever..."

She's pretty sure of herself as she leaves him in her dust, and she's halfway across the room to the exit before she knows it, but when he doesn't say anything or call after her with some smart remark or perverted comment, she changes her mind. Because then she realizes: he wanted this. He was trying to irritate her so he could be alone, so he could have the entire training room to himself.

And then she's really mad.

She stops dead in her tracks, turns sharply, and marches right back up to him, projecting her anger at his stupid, uncaring back as he's too much of an ass to stare after her like any decent person would, grabbing him by the shoulder and spinning him around to face her.

"Woah, what's the big idea, Fire Girl?"

She ignores him, intent on getting to the bottom of what's irking her. "Just what is your problem, exactly?"

His brows furrow and he smiles, like he somehow doesn't know what she's talking about. "Problem?"

"Don't play dumb with me," She snaps. "You're always saying or doing something to make me uncomfortable. And I wanna know why."

He laughs then, clearly amused, and his eyebrows momentarily shoot upwards as he shakes his head and says, "Okay, Fire Girl, I think maybe someone's a little full of themselves. In case you haven't noticed, I'm like that with everyone; it's who I am."

He holds out his arms, gesturing to himself like he's some kind of god before turning away from her and back towards the roping station, but she's quick to step in front of him and block his path. She's not about to let him get away so easily – without an answer – just yet.

"But me especially. I've noticed. Out of everyone here it's always me you single out. Why?"

She's been as crystal clear with him as she can possibly be – practically spelled it out for him – and yet somehow, some way (which she's sure is exclusive to Finnick and Finnick alone), he finds a way to dodge it.

"Uh...I'm flattered, I truly am, but do you really think this is wise? I mean I know I'm good-looking, but Peeta-"

She throws her arms up and turns away. "Urgh! How can you be like this?"

She can't see him with her back turned, but just the sound of his lion-purr voice is enough to make her insides clench and twist with livid fury.

"The question you should be asking yourself, Fire Girl, is why have you noticed?"

She whirls around to face him, ready to unleash her mounting anger and frustration, but is momentarily thwarted when she realizes just how close he suddenly is. Her face is mere inches away from his neck, and she has to angle her head up to look at him properly. It's enough to unnerve her, but not nearly enough to stop her.

"Excuse me?" She asks, though it's not really a question.

He smirks, more than happy to elaborate. "Well, it's just that if you think I'm so 'out to get you', then why have you taken such an interest in what I'm doing to begin with? Shouldn't you not give a damn whether I'm in the same room or not? Have you been watching me from the beginning? That seems outright stalker-ish to me."

She can't deny that he has a point, but she also knows full well what he's trying to do – he's twisting her words around, trying to make her doubt herself. And she won't let that happen.

"Don't turn this around on me, Odair." She moves past him, standing next to the hanging rope she'd been trying to work just minutes before a few feet away from him, not ready in the least to admit that it's so she can breathe again. "I'm not the one who's always trying to talk when you don't want to talk and say things you don't want to hear and touch you when you don't want to be touched."

"You sure about that?" He asks, and for the first time in all their conversations together, she doesn't know what to say.

"...What?"

"Are you sure about that?" He repeats, launching off the heels of his feet and circling closer. "Because if I didn't know any better, I'd think that you wanted to be touched and talked to. I mean after all, you sure as hell don't get that with Peeta."

Her face reddens, both with anger and embarrassment, and she's all too quick to rebuke him. "What Peeta and I do and don't do is none of your business."

"Well sure," he says easily. "Because you don't do anything. I've seen the tapes, Fire Girl. Watched the interviews, seen the recaps. You don't love him. I'd be surprised if you've even held hands with him off camera."

She blinks, trying to find some angle or point to fight him with. She's rather unsuccessful. "That...that's not-"

"And you never will," he says, continuing as though she'd said nothing in the first place. "You might settle for him, sure. He's sweet and innocent and...well, Peeta. But you'll never truly be happy with him unless you change who you are...which you can't, by the way."

He's coming closer, and she knows it. He moves carefully, as one would when approaching a lion or cobra, as though hoping to close in on her without her noticing – it doesn't work. She backs away almost immediately as soon as she notices what he's doing, but her retreat is halted by the sudden feeling of chilled metal pressing into her back, and she realizes too late that she's backed into the bar of the roping station.

He swoops in on her then, clearly seeing his chance and not about to let it go, and before she's even able to register it properly he's caged her right where she stands. His arms lock beside her and his fingers wrap firmly around the cold metal bar she's backed up against, and his face is mere inches from hers. She doesn't want to share her personal space, let alone breathe the same air as him, but finds she has little choice; he's so close that her vision blurs, and she's unable to stop the rush of heat that floods up her neck and into her face.

He smirks. "The bottom line is, no matter what you do-" He leans closer. "No matter how much time you spend with him-" His breath tickles her ear. "He's never going to satisfy you."

He begins to pull away, and she thinks that maybe he's done, but he leans back in a second later.

"At least," he whispers, pausing for effect, and she can just hear the smirk in his voice. "Not like I can."

He sounds like a lion, all rumbles and low purrs, and she knows that it's meant to beguile and seduce her (and if used on any other girl it probably would), but she's too stubborn to give in to something as simple as functioning vocal cords.

It's when he licks her ear that she decides she's had enough.

Disgusted, she shoves him away, and he only laughs and gives her a wide-eyed grin, like he's pleasantly surprised at her roughness.

After a few moments he turns and walks away, apparently satisfied that he's ruffled her feathers, and he leaves her with a few select words that he knows will leave her as angry as she can possibly be before he disappears from her line of sight completely.

"You should come see me some time. When Peeta gets too boring for you I could really put that fire of yours to good use. And to answer your question, Fire Girl, the reason I've been singling you out all the time? It's because I wanted to."

It takes her a while before she realizes that he's answered her initial question, and it doesn't leave her with the satisfied feeling she'd hoped it would. She leans back against the bar of the rope station to support her inexplicably weak legs, and she decides to wait a few minutes before going back to her room. She doesn't know why she does this – she tells herself it's because she doesn't want to go outside with a beet-red face, but she knows that's not entirely true – but she doesn't bother to read into it either. She waits, and after a few minutes, pushes herself off the bar and stands on her feet, raising her chin and straightening her spine.

She steps off of the pressure-sensitive tile and leaves one step at a time, not bothering to check and see if the blue computer screen shuts off as she reaches the end of the room. She peeks cautiously around the corner, more so than she would like, and is careful to head in the opposite direction of the famed Capitol Heartthrob.

She goes back to her room with no interruptions, and unwillingly dreams of bronze hair and double knots.

A/N: I had originally intended this to be a oneshot, but I get the feeling that it could really be something if I continued. Do you think I should continue? Let me know! :)

Thanks for reading!