Freya's POV
When the battle's dust settled, I was still standing with my eyes on Finnick and my heart racing. As he came closer to me, his once arrogant and aloof glare softened, and I was nearly taken aback by the hesitancy in each stride.
"Thank you... for helping us," he said in a low but anxious voice, "Freya." He hesitated, nearly faltering in his speech. "I realize that my rejection of you was incorrect. You were always more resilient than I knew.
After everything I had been through, I wasn't sure if I could believe what he was saying, so I stared at him. There was regret in his eyes, but it was encased in something more profound that I couldn't quite identify.
"Now, Finnick, what do you want from me?" I questioned, trying to conceal the flurry of feelings underneath by speaking steadily. "You turned me down. Do you recall?
