Finnick can just see the blurry outline of the Girl on Fire before he breaks through the surface of the water and is left staring up at Katniss. He still doesn't know exactly what to make of her; more of his knowledge of her is still based on what he's seen on television and whatever secondhand information has been passed down to him, rather than the minutes he spent with during training and their arrival here. He's glad she's here, if only because she's safe, but he still can't help but trust Joahnna a bit more. He and Jo have history, at the very least.
He smiles reflexively, an instinct he doesn't bother fighting; it's the smile that would make Johanna claim she feels dirty.
"How do you think I won my Games, darling?" he asks -- a lie, but one that most people would find amusing; he's sure that she won't. Sure, he had a hell of a lot of sponsors, but all the sponsors in the world wouldn't have taught him how to fight with a trident, how to find water. That was Mags, a lifetime ago, teaching him how to survive.
"Water's fine if you want to come on in," he invites with a tilt of his head, suspecting that there's no way he's going to get Katniss to strip down and take a swim with him.
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He smiles reflexively, an instinct he doesn't bother fighting; it's the smile that would make Johanna claim she feels dirty.
"How do you think I won my Games, darling?" he asks -- a lie, but one that most people would find amusing; he's sure that she won't. Sure, he had a hell of a lot of sponsors, but all the sponsors in the world wouldn't have taught him how to fight with a trident, how to find water. That was Mags, a lifetime ago, teaching him how to survive.
"Water's fine if you want to come on in," he invites with a tilt of his head, suspecting that there's no way he's going to get Katniss to strip down and take a swim with him.