Finnick had heard stories of love growing up, fairy tales read to him by his mother. His father would tell him the story of parents' love often, always with a twinkle in his eyes that Joseph only got when he spoke about Ruth. Call him a hopeless romantic, but Finnick had always thought about what his own love story might look like since then. When he was a boy, he dreamed of it being dramatic and amazing, a knight saving a princess, or a soldier and poet. He never expected it to hurt.