Chapter Text
“I just wish those Avoxes wouldn’t linger around the shop all the time,” Peeta’s mother said when she tightly wrapped a loaf into parchment paper. Her motions were swift and her tone was harsh, so he instinctively ducked when he pushed the cake for the Grenadines into the display window. They were going to pick it up later that day but he was quite proud of how it had turned out, so his father had agreed to showcase it. “Shush!” his mother said behind him. He flinched but then realized that she didn’t mean him. She angrily waved at the group of Avoxes that had gathered outside the window and intently stared at the cake.
“It really has become quite a nuisance,” Mrs. Getty, the wife of the butcher, said when she took the bread Peeta’s mother handed her. “I have talked to Alby about this and we are thinking of filing a complaint to the mayor. It has gotten worse since they lifted the curfew at the dormitories and have them roaming around unsupervised. The officials explain it with the Avoxes having proven to be diligent workers but I believe they just can’t be bothered to do their job. After all, Avoxes wouldn’t be Avoxes if they were up to any good. It’s just plain irresponsible to not monitor them.”
“That is exactly my point,” Peeta’s mother said. “Maybe they haven’t caused any issues in the mines yet but who knows what they’re capable of? When it comes down to it, they’re strangers we’re forced to live with.”
Peeta rolled his eyes. It was true that the Avoxes had made it a habit to wander the streets and look at the display windows but they never actually bothered anyone. They never entered or blocked any doorways or stood in anyone’s way. They just sadly gaze at the displayed food that they would never be able to afford. Avoxes weren’t paid. That was the whole point. He didn’t see why it was so bad just to have them look at things, even if they would never be paying customers. If anything, he preferred them over those people who never even slowed down as they walked by. Who bought cake with passionless expressions. Who thought that the hours of work he put into particularly difficult frostings were a given.
One Avox pressed his nose against the window when Peeta turned the cake. He seemed young, possibly even younger than Peeta. There was nothing menacing about him.
His mother made a disgruntled sound. “What did I tell you about edging them on, boy?” she asked in that definite tone that he knew he couldn’t ignore. He was twenty-one, so not exactly a child any longer, but that didn’t prevent his mother from bossing him around.
He threw the Avoxes a quick smile and meant to retreat. But then he noticed a familiar face. Another Avox stood behind the others. He was one of the few Peeta actually remembered because he always seemed a little out of place. He was tall and had the kind of face that seemed unreal, as though it was taken from one of the old art books Peeta used to study in school. Like the others, he examined the cake but there was a different air around him. It didn’t feel like innocent joy or numb desperation. Peeta actually felt appraised.
“Peeta Mellark!” his mother said sharply. He grimaced. When he turned, he met the eyes of the Avox and felt a shudder running down his spine. He didn’t know what it was. He felt seen but couldn’t really define what that would mean.
He occasionally saw him around, usually at the bakery but sometimes in other parts of the town.
He and a group of other Avoxes were chased away by Lyle, the Getty family’s oldest son when they lingered around the butcher’s shop for too long and ran by Peeta when he came back from making a delivery to the hospital. The Avox was fast, much faster than the others, as if he was carried by the wind.
One rainy afternoon, Peeta brought a crate with old bread to the dormitories and found the Avox sitting on the roof of one of the buildings, staring at the clouds above him. He didn’t seem fazed by the height or the rain starting to pelt down on him. Peeta found that odd but didn’t want to stay out in the rain for too long, so he quickly marched inside. When he left the building after delivering the crate to the kitchen, a Peacemaker was yelling at the Avox to come down. The Avox seemed amused by that because the Peacemaker didn’t actually attempt to climb the roof himself, so it looked like a man yelling at the sky. Peeta watched the scene for a moment and snorted a laugh until it hit him that the Avox would eventually get punished. The idea made him uncomfortable. Not wanting to wait around to witness that, he left.
A day later, he saw him in a group of Avoxes as they started building the stage in front of the Justice Building for that year’s Hunger Games. Peeta always forgot about those until the preparations started. It was like a grim reminder that there was a constant shadow looming over their lives. In that context, it felt wrong to see the Avox, as someone who held even less freedom. He limped a little as he carried a wooden beam. His left eye was nearly swollen shut. When he noticed Peeta staring, he paused for a split second but then just moved on.
Sometimes, when he and the Avox walked by each other, their eyes met. It was like a silent agreement Peeta wasn’t able to decipher. There were times when he considered chatting him up but then wasn’t sure how that would even work. Avoxes couldn’t reply. He wasn’t sure where the idea was coming from in the first place. There was nothing for them to talk about even if that was an option.
But the more he tried to tell himself that there was no reason for him to be interested in the life of the Avox, the more curious he got. It felt like an itch that wouldn’t go away.
“Mady Sinclair said that they’re mostly political criminals,” Aaron said when he shuffled the pastries in the glass counter to make it look more full than it really was. Before the Hunger Games started, they always ran into supply issues because most resources were pumped into the Capitol and its festivities. It was a truth everyone knew about and yet never put into words. Peeta sometimes wondered whether that was what the name was supposed to indicate. The Hunger Games brought hunger to all of Panem.
“How would Mady even know that? Doesn’t she work in the hospital?” Peeta asked and tried not to stare at the Avoxes gathered in front of the window. They would be even more starved than regular citizens.
“She’s engaged to that one guy from the Larkspur family. The one who was in Reese’s class. He barely managed to graduate but when they opened the dorms, he snagged a job as a custodian,” Aaron said.
Peeta snorted a laugh because he sometimes wondered how Aaron even knew all those things. They were only two years apart but Aaron had heard of more of the neighborhood gossip than any of the old ladies who habitually came by to chat up whichever family member minded the shop that day. The Larkspurs were a family of cheesemakers. The wife was nice and always winked at him when she cut his lump of cheese a little bigger than what he paid for. That was the extent of Peeta’s knowledge.
“What does that mean though, being a political criminal? Did they protest against the Capitol?” he asked as he wiped the counter clean. He saw the Avox from the corner of his eye. As usual, he towered over the others.
Aaron shrugged. “I guess.”
It made Peeta wonder if that was why they had been sent to District 12 of all places. They were the furthest away from the Capitol. Nothing that happened in District 12 ever had any consequences for the rest of Panem.
“I wonder what they want, staring at food all day. It’s not like they can taste it,” Aaron said. When Peeta frowned at him, he added, “They don’t have tongues.”
At first, the implication didn’t quite hit Peeta. He tried to picture a mouth without a tongue. But then he realized that they wouldn’t have lost them by accident.
He didn’t mean to but threw a look at the Avoxes outside and caught the one Avox’s gaze. He seemed startled at the sudden attention. Peeta mechanically lifted the corners of his mouth into a smile and felt queasy when the Avox returned it in an equally strained manner.
“I bet the big guy came from one of the rich districts. Probably 4,” Aaron said. “Must be nice to have enough free time to think about rebelling.”
I took Peeta some effort to avert his gaze. A rebel without a tongue was the last thing he needed in his life.
The problem was that he was never rational about these things. It only made the itch worse.
He didn’t see him for a couple of days after that.
The stage was taking shape and more and more banners were hung around the city. Everyone got their best clothes from hidden corners in their closets. The upcoming Reaping meant that everyone was tense because they all had at least one relative who was at risk. Two of Peeta’s cousins weren’t nineteen yet. He himself also remembered much too well what it was like to stand in the group of boys, staring up at the woman who had come from the Capitol, praying that she wouldn’t draw his name. Most tributes were poor kids from the Seam who had applied for tesserae but that didn’t mean that they had not lost enough sons and daughters from his neighborhood before.
It was maybe because he wanted to shake off the constant discomfort he felt during this time.
Whatever the reason was, the night before the Reaping he did something rash.
He was the last person in the shop. He heard the creaking of the steps as the others made their way upstairs, and a lonely shattering of metal bowls, probably caused by his father who always found something to sort and clean even when everyone else was already retiring to bed.
There was a frosted cake in the display window that Peeta had nearly forgotten about. It was just a small display piece, the kind that rarely sold and that only existed to make the window look a little more appealing. It still looked presentable but he figured that the day of the Reaping wasn’t the right time to show off his skills, so he meant to take it back for them to eat the next day. Just when he was about to pick it up, he noticed the figure outside. It was the Avox. Dusk had already fallen, so he was illuminated by the street lamps around him. He held Peeta’s gaze for a few seconds and then turned away with his hands in his pockets.
Peeta looked at the cake and the lonely street outside and before he could really think about it, he dashed to the door and swore under his breath when he realized that he had already locked it. He still had the key in his pocket but felt the seconds tick away as he fumbled it into the keyhole.
When he was finally outside, the Avox was almost out of reach. Not wanting to yell across the neighborhood, he ran after him like an idiot. His shoes echoed across the dusty street and he could immediately feel his heart beating all the way up to his throat. He hadn’t run in years. Luck wanted it that the noise he created alerted the Avox who slowed down and turned just in time for Peeta to reach him and hold onto his arm.
The Avox was clearly startled and took a step away. He seemed ready to throw a punch, so Peeta, barely able to catch his breath, quickly said, “There’s leftover cake. I don’t want to throw it away. Do you want some?”
The Avox seemed guarded and Peeta expected him to just turn away and leave. He would do the same if a random guy came up to him like this. He didn’t even know his name.
But then, just when Peeta prepared himself for an awkward retreat, the Avox looked around them and at the open shop door, and then finally half shrugged, half nodded.
It was odd. Because it wasn’t really supposed to mean anything but it made Peeta feel oddly lightheaded. As if he had caught a butterfly with his bare hands and felt its wings fluttering against his skin.
There was something he had not considered and it only struck him when he put the cake on the counter and sliced it. The Avox stared at his hands with a pensive expression. When Peeta maneuvered a slice on a plate and handed it to him, the Avox hesitated.
“Wait,” Peeta said and felt the blood drain from his face. “Can you eat this? Because I heard that–” He didn’t finish the sentence. It felt wrong to say it out loud and make wild assumptions about someone whose life he knew nothing about.
The Avox grimaced as he pulled the plate towards himself.
“I’m sorry if I–” Peeta said and then pressed his mouth shut. He was an idiot. The Avoxes would have to eat something or else they would have all starved to death. He regularly delivered bread to the dormitories, more than the staff there could possibly eat, so that bread would end up with the Avoxes. Compared to the bread, the cake would be a lot easier to swallow. Even if it wasn’t, they still had teeth. They wouldn’t just have gaping mouths like leeches.
The Avox forked up a piece and sniffed at it. Peeta’s first instinct was to be offended but then he figured that the Avox would only have his sense of smell left. He couldn’t imagine what that would be like. He suddenly was painfully aware of his own tongue pushing against the back of his teeth.
The Avox put the fork to his mouth and seemed wary. When Peeta tried to smile reassuringly, he opened his mouth and slipped the fork inside. He angled his head and then swallowed hard. There was something off about it but as Peeta thought about what it was, he realized that he didn’t normally stare at people eating.
He wanted to ask whether the Avox liked it but didn’t really know how to ask anything that didn’t require a lengthy response.
When the Avox took another hesitant bite, Peeta felt a little awkward and tried to busy himself wiping an imaginary stain on the counter. That in return seemed to embolden the Avox who quickly wolfed down the whole slice, audibly swallowing with each bite. Peeta cut him another and another until the cake was nothing but a few crumbs on a platter.
“So I guess that means it was edible,” he said.
The Avox cracked a smile. It was a nice smile. A warm smile. A smile Peeta could picture being popular. He didn’t know why but it flustered him a little.
“What’s your name anyway?” he asked when the Avox was on his way through the door and realized too late that it was a stupid question. He patted his pants to see if he had anything to write on, only to then wonder if an Avox would even know how to write. He knew nothing.
The Avox took his hand and Peeta fought the urge to pull it back. The Avox ran his finger across Peeta’s palm and then looked at him as though to check that he understood.
“F?” Peeta asked.
The Avox nodded and continued drawing.
“I,” Peeta said, not sure if he was supposed to confirm each letter. “N. N. Finn?”
The Avox emphatically drew out the next line to show that his name was longer than that.
When he finally let go of Peeta’s hand, Peeta said, “Finnick. Finnick? That’s your name?”
The Avox nodded. Peeta was never sure which district names were from but it neither sounded as though it was from District 12 nor the Capitol. Maybe Aaron was right and it was from District 4. Either way, it was the first time he met someone from a place he would never be able to visit.
“I’m Peeta,” he said and closed his hand. His skin still tingled from the touch.
Finnick, the Avox, nodded and then finally turned away to walk out of the door.
“Nice to meet you, too,” Peeta said under his breath. He only closed the door when Finnick had disappeared behind the next corner.
He knew that he had made a mistake of some sort. Nothing good could come out of knowing the name of an Avox.
But as he still felt the phantom of the letters on his palm, he also felt as if he had gained something. Something precious. Something that had turned a stranger into a person.