Wildfire | Johanna Mason

𝒞𝒽𝒶𝓅𝓉𝑒𝓇 𝓉𝑒𝓃

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Daphne managed to leave without Robert, Daniel, or Samwell seeing her. She didn't have Gwendolyn to make her a gorgeous dress anymore, but her closet was well suited for a night out. She got dressed in a tight brown dress and was rather proud of her own attempt to do makeup. She was sure she could have asked the prep team, but she didn't bother to.

The party was bigger than she'd expected to, although she wasn't even entirely sure what else to expect from the Capitol.

She accepted a drink, scanning the area. She didn't know who to talk to, it would be a guess. She sipped her drink, leaning against a wall, trying to figure out what to do, when suddenly, a rather tall blonde man was standing in front of her. She recognized him in an instant. How couldn't she? Finnick Odair was a Capitol sweetheart, often enough seen during the games. Everyone loved to get a piece of him.

"If it isn't the new flame of district seven," he gave her a cheeky grin, and she almost rolled her eyes. "All alone already?"

"What do you want, fish boy?"

He chuckled at that, sipping his drink and licking his lips before answering. "Johanna didn't lie about you," now that certainly spiked her interest. He must have seen it, because he leaned in a bit more. "Ah, I've made you curious, haven't I?"

Daphne took a slow sip, holding eyecontact. "Maybe you have, maybe you have not," she pushed herself away from the wall, just a few inches away from him. It was an easy thing to do, when there wasn't any attraction at all. "What do you want to do to find out?"

His lips turned into an easy smile, and he took a respectful step back. "Daphne Westerfall," he said slowly, tasting the name on his lips. "Do you need some help tonight?"

"Do you have to make it sound so dirty?"

"That's half the fun of it," he said with a wink, and Daphne's eyebrows rose again. Finnick then turned to the crowd, letting his gaze shift over them. "The easy prey are the old men, but they usually want things in return a pretty little thing like you shouldn't give--" Daphne shot him a glare he decided to ignore. "Now, I think in your case, those young, lost puppies might be interesting. They're rich enough to be here, we're still early in the games. They can buy your boy something good."

As nice as the help was, Daphne wasn't sure if she really trusted him. "Why are you helping me?"

He glanced at her, soon returning his gaze to the crowd. "We're all victors, we're the same, even if we come from another district." A tall lady passed them, winking at Finnick, whose smile faltered for just a second. "I hope I'll see you again, Daphne Westerfall."

And just like that, Finnick Odair was gone.

If she'd cared to, she could have met other victors, but one of the men Finnick had pointed out was looking like a lost puppy, and she wanted to keep Orlando alive. With that in mind, she drank what was left in her glass, forced a smile on her lips, and moved to the man with a confident sway in her hips.

***

With her head held high and the check clasped in her hands, Daphne walked into the dining room. Samwell was alone, eating a rather simple breakfast considering the choices he had.

A grin formed on her lips as she strode over to him, proud and confident, and she slapped the piece of paper onto the table.

He barely looked up. "What's that and why is it in my space?"

"A check," she said, pulling the paper away again. "I got Orlando a sponsor, we can send him food now."

He placed his spoon down, folded his hands together, and knotted his brows together. "So now you want a pat on the back for doing your job?"

"It's certainly more than you have done," Daphne said, pressing the paper against her thigh. "You didn't get him this, you stayed here when you should be focused on saving his life."
He rolled his eyes and began eating again. "He'll be dead in two days, I'll give him three for good measurement." He barked.

Daphne's mouth dropped open. "How can you fucking say that? You can't see the future, can you?"

"I've done this enough, little girl —" his mistake was calling her little girl. Her eyes narrowed, and she interrupted him.

"Little girl?" She snapped, taking a step forwards, her legs pressing against the table. "This little girl can break your fucking nose so change the tone, asshole."

"I thought you didn't 'give a rat's ass'," he said, slowly chewing his food. "I've been threatened by worse people."

"Obviously they were all bark no bite," She sneered. "Want to find out if I am, too?"

Samwell eyes narrowed, but Daphne didn't back away, kept his stare. If it hadn't been for Robert, they might have stayed like that for a long time.

"What's going on?"

Daphne turned around, a scold still on the tip of her tongue. "I got Orlando a sponsor."

"Really?" His eyes lit up, and greedy hands came for the check. "That's a lot of money, he'll have a feast by tonight."

"Shouldn't we save some?" Daphne crossed her arms. Spending all the money at once sounded like a bad idea.

"No need, he won't last long. The careers are very strong this year. The district twelve girl had a high score, maybe she'll make it far. The rest are already dead."

"How can you say that?" From the corner of her eyes, she saw Samwell looking rather pleased.

Her father looked up from the check. "It's the truth, sweetheart. They find him, he's dead."
"But- we should give him a chance. Benefit of the doubt."

"If it makes you happy," her father said. "We can spent half now and the other half tomorrow. Or the day after."

She didn't believe that would change anything about how they treated Orlando, so she scoffed, shook her head, and stomped out of the room.

***

That night, Orlando got the food that was promised to him. The next, he died. Daphne hated it, because her father and fucking Samwell had been right. She hated it because he was another victim to the horrible Capitol. So that evening, Daphne cried. She cried for him, and for Zetta, and for everyone who had set foot in the arena, dead or alive.

She felt like a baby. She'd never been much of a crier, yet all she seemed to do was weep. She needed to pull herself together.

There was little left they needed to do now that their tributes were gone. Robert said they could go home, if they liked. Daphne wanted nothing more.

They were asked to answer a few questions about their fallen tributes, their plans, and some other things Daphne hadn't bothered to answer or listen to, Samwell seemed to actually have the ability to smile when looking in a camera. What a shocker.

Luckily for her, it was soon that they were on the train and on their way home. Home. She'd rarely been as glad to think of those words.

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(a/n): sooooo a little later than i usually update, but i've started writing a new story and writing anything else just wasn't possible so yeah. anyways, part two is coming soon (-ish?) !