Finnick lets the tide of the conversation turn, quietly ingesting everything that Johanna says. It's true. There are parts of this place that do smack of the Capitol, but parts of it that seem like it couldn't have possibly been constructed by the people who enslaved them for so long. It might just be the finery of everything. There isn't anything as well-constructed and decorated as this place anywhere but the Capitol. But, if this is a Capitol trick, what's the end game? It's evident that they're not killing each other. They've said enough about the rebellion that all three of them could be tried for treason. Why keep them here for a prolonged of time in such comfort?
He looks at Johanna without any of his usual facade when she suggests they escape. Maybe they could. But that isn't what they set out to do, was it? If they left, just deserted Panem, does anything change? Do the Hunger Games grind on? And he knows implicitly, that even if they stop, he can't just leave. He has too much family. Too much to lose in Panem.
His gaze narrows, mouth actually thins a line when Johanna so openly alludes to Annie. His chest goes tight for a moment, because he's been trying not to think about her too much, but all he does is end up obsessing over her. Every night he lies awake and thinks of her, retraces her face over in his mind, makes sure that he can still hear the sound of her voice, what her hair smells like after they've been swimming in the sea at night. He had been afraid to leave her for the Hunger Games, but that had been a sacrifice he could make. He might die; but it was with the promise of bringing her a better life, where she could be free, didn't have to worry about hiding herself from the Capitol at all times. He had done it for her -- and for all of his sisters, who he had to stay in the Capitol for, to make sure they weren't reaped. They were all together, at least. It's a small consolation, mostly because he doesn't understand what's happening to himself, so he can't understand what's happening at him.
He doesn't know what to say to Johanna for a rare moment, because he can never dare to say Annie's name anywhere remotely public. He can't risk exposing them, can't risk anyone knowing what she is to him, that he loves her so deeply that he would do anything to make sure she doesn't feel anymore pain.
He clears his throat.
"So, do you think the Capitol sent us here or not?" Finnick asks.
no subject
He looks at Johanna without any of his usual facade when she suggests they escape. Maybe they could. But that isn't what they set out to do, was it? If they left, just deserted Panem, does anything change? Do the Hunger Games grind on? And he knows implicitly, that even if they stop, he can't just leave. He has too much family. Too much to lose in Panem.
His gaze narrows, mouth actually thins a line when Johanna so openly alludes to Annie. His chest goes tight for a moment, because he's been trying not to think about her too much, but all he does is end up obsessing over her. Every night he lies awake and thinks of her, retraces her face over in his mind, makes sure that he can still hear the sound of her voice, what her hair smells like after they've been swimming in the sea at night. He had been afraid to leave her for the Hunger Games, but that had been a sacrifice he could make. He might die; but it was with the promise of bringing her a better life, where she could be free, didn't have to worry about hiding herself from the Capitol at all times. He had done it for her -- and for all of his sisters, who he had to stay in the Capitol for, to make sure they weren't reaped. They were all together, at least. It's a small consolation, mostly because he doesn't understand what's happening to himself, so he can't understand what's happening at him.
He doesn't know what to say to Johanna for a rare moment, because he can never dare to say Annie's name anywhere remotely public. He can't risk exposing them, can't risk anyone knowing what she is to him, that he loves her so deeply that he would do anything to make sure she doesn't feel anymore pain.
He clears his throat.
"So, do you think the Capitol sent us here or not?" Finnick asks.