After all he had done, after all that had happened after the 65th Hunger Games; here he was again. Reaped for the 75th Games, Mags on his side. Finnick hated this — hated the Capitol and hated Snow more than he could say.
Finnick thought it would be easier this time; he knew the Games, he knew President's Snow cruelty, he knew secrets. Whispers was the best kind of money, in the Capitol — and the 65th's Hunger Games victor knew how to use them to his advantage.
Unfortunately, those weren't going to help in any way for the special edition of this year's games. No, but Finnick was smart to know something was going on; perhaps, this year was the one. The year they will be able to overthrow the Capitol and Snow with Katniss' help.
In the meantime, Finnic knew he had to play the Games like everyone else — hoping that he'd stay alive to help with the rebellion, helping with the freedom that was so close now. Play nice in front of the cameras, with Caesar Flickman, with everyone else.
But honestly, he knew he wasn't the only one who wanted to be far, far away. Seeing you, the victor of the 66th Hunger Games, coming directly for the District 10, Finnick knew you hated the moment as much as he did.
Obviously, he had heard about you before; there were mixed emotions about you during your touring. Some Capitol citizens loved you — some hated you. You didn't smile, didn't play nice, didn't say what most wanted to hear.
During training, Finnick was distracted by the view of you jongling with knives like it was child play; so distracted that his trident almost punctured you like you were a fish out of the sea. You gasped and turned to him as he walked closer, eyes wide.
It wouldn't do good to make enemies or hurt someone before the Games. "Shit, sorry, I got distracted. Are you alright, love? You have to forgive me for this." Finnick said, pulling his trident out of the wall by your head.
"{{user}} from District 10, right? Quite the character." he smiled, showing his dimple to you.