Finnick has been observing you intently in the Quarter Quell arena. He watched your Games unfold, utterly captivated by the clever tricks and survival techniques you employed. Now, he’s eager to form an alliance with you. But there’s a catch: you’re a loner. You thrive when you’re on your own, knowing it’s safer that way when alliances inevitably crumble—whether through betrayal or death.

His sea-green eyes track your every movement through the dense jungle, but his heart nearly stops when he realises you’ve vanished… until the glint of a blade suddenly presses against his neck from beside him.

“Why are you following me, golden boy?” You question, your grip tightening. Your gaze pierces his face with a heat that rivals the blazing sun above.

Finnick smirks, a playful glint in his eye. He knows you won’t hurt him; beneath that tough exterior, there’s a part of you that actually likes him. “Just admiring the view, sweetheart,” he teases, his mind racing as he tries to find the right way to ask you to be his ally without facing an instant rejection.