THIS IS THE FINAL CHAPTER! Thank you guys so much for all the support! Keep your eyes peeled for the sequel, which will be called Resistance: Brave. There will be new characters and gore and fluff and all that nice stuff. THANKS AGAIN, GUYS! Also, some people have been freaking out of the whole Finnick-getting-poisoned thing. If you look, he drinks the antidote before he goes into Snow's office. That's why he's okay.

Speechless

(ANNIE)

I'm dancing with a big guy. He calls himself Plutarch Heavensbee and says he's a Gamemaker. He's nice enough, but the word "Gamemaker" doesn't exactly make me like him. He talks every now and then, but I'm rather distracted.

I want him to go away so I can go home. I'm so sick of this place.

Finnick disappeared with a woman a while ago, and I haven't seen him since. I try to tell myself that I'm worried about him, not that I'm jealous of the woman he ran off with – even though I am. But that doesn't matter. He should've been back by now . . .

I'm growing impatient. When will this damn song end? Where is he?

The song ends and the band's lead singer – a ginger woman with a District 1 accent – announces a special song. She says they learned this number especially for the victors of District 4. They say it's a song from home. If that's true, then it will forever be ruined for me.

Finnick appears out of nowhere and asks Plutarch if he can cut in.

"It was good meeting you, Annie," Plutarch says before walking away.

Finnick very easily puts my hand on his shoulder, his on my hip, and holds my other hand. He has that same old serious-face on. Jaw clenched. Blue-green eyes narrowed. And eyebrows pulled together with a crease between them.

No one else dances – not because they don't know the song, but because this was chosen specially for me and Finnick.

The song is one of the most popular ones in the district. Everybody knows it – and the dance. It's very simple: basically, you just move aimlessly around the dance floor and whenever they say the word "swim" or "swimming," the boy spins the girl. Simple, like I said.

It's weird being this close to Finnick. Even when we shared a bed, we barely even touched. And it's even weirder because of the way Finnick is looking at me. I feel slightly . . . uncomfortable. But Finnick has perfected this dance. I can tell he's trying to make it fun. So I try to have fun.

When the dance ends, the other partygoers applaud. Finnick slips away without a word. I don't find him again until the party ends. In the car, he doesn't speak. He doesn't do a thing. He does end up walking me to my room on the train.

He's got those blue-green eyes on me again. He's looking strangely pale. His square jaw is clenched tight and his bronze-highlighted hair lies in an unkempt mess across his head. Has he been sleeping well lately? Has he been sleeping at all?

I wait for a few seconds, hoping he'll say something. Do something. But he doesn't. So I turn around and open the door.

When it's about three inches open, Finnick's hand reaches over my head and slams it shut. "I have something to say."

Slowly and cautiously, I turn around. I'm pressed up against the door, Finnick's arm still holding it shut. He's still got the serious-face on, but it's somehow different. He looks like he's in pain. I don't like it. He shouldn't be in pain . . .

Nothing could ever prepare me for the words he says next.

"I love you, Annie," he says.

What? He what? Me? I . . . um . . . Me? He loves me? That doesn't sound quite right. Is this a dream? Because it feels suspiciously like a dream . . .

I'm supposed to be madly in love with him and he's supposed to keep living his life, oblivious to how I feel! That's the way of the world!

"And I don't know if this will work out," he continues. "I don't think it will. You deserve somebody that'll be good to you. And that's not me. I'm just going to hurt you. I'll cheat on you. I'll make you feel like crap – even though I don't mean to."

I'm still having a little trouble understanding. Finnick Odair – the Finnick Odair – famous for his looks, his charm, his Games, for being him – loves me? I'm damaged goods! I'm crazy! He can't love me! It's not – it's not – it's – not –

"But I had to say it," Finnick says slowly. "And you needed to hear it. Just once." He waits for me to say something, but only for a second. Then he slowly removes his hand from the door. Then he very gently kisses my forehead and heads down the hall.

I want to speak. I want to tell him that I love him, too. But I can't speak. I need to speak, though, because if Finnick gets away before I can say or do something, there's no telling what will happen.

He's at the door, now. The one that connects to the next train car.

There are words building in my chest. And this time, they don't die in my throat. "Finnick, I love you!"

Finnick stops at the door, hand still on the doorknob. He stays frozen like that not for seconds, but entire minutes – I'm not exaggerating. And I'm just stand there like an idiot. Chest heaving. Heart racing. Voice finally working.

The suspense is killing me! Did he hear me? Is this even real? Please, please, please, let this be real. Because if it isn't, I don't think I could handle waking up from this dream.

Finnick turns around very, very slowly. I can't place the emotion on his face; I've never seen it before. It's disbelief? Shock? Happiness? Anger? Pain? Confusion? A blend, maybe.

Next thing I know, he's right in front of me. Once again, I'm pressed against the door. And again, his arm is over my head with his hand on the door. He's looking right in my eyes like he did when we were dancing. I can't regain my breath when he's looking at me like that.

He puts his free hand on my cheek and kisses me. I have to stand on my tiptoes to reach his lips, and even then, he has to bend down slightly. This kiss is noticeably different from any of our others. I don't know how, though.

I pull away and Finnick moves back slightly, but doesn't let go. "Say it again," I whisper.

Finnick smiles and even laughs a little. "I love you."

And I press my smiling lips to his once more.

Yeah . . . So, that's all. I just want to say thanks so much. And keep your eyes peeled for the sequel! I promise it won't suck.