The longer Darcy looked at Finnick, the more things became increasingly clear to her. She had been blinded by the overwhelming attractiveness of him, as she could admit to being more than a little drunk and of a singular mindset most of the time anyway. She thought then, without any tangible reason that she could come up with, that he was very contained without appearing to be so. It made him all the more interesting and admittedly attractive to her, as one was always bound to be attracted to a polar opposite by contrary nature alone.

She also had to admit that the attraction was less in the sense that she wanted to unzip his pants with her teeth - learning he had a wife had put a permanent nuke on any and all proverbial boners she might've been able to muster otherwise - so perhaps 'compelling' would've been a more fitting word for Finnick. Either way, she leaned in to rest her elbow on the bar, settling in, and smiled brightly at him. He was pleasing and interesting and continued conversation with him was bound to be enjoyable, so why not?

"It is some pretty good news," she agreed. "I like making new friends. And I bet your wife was doubly pleased to find you kicking around here. Being reminded that you won the husband jackpot has got to feel pretty incredible, I'd imagine."

Darcy attempted to imagine staying here for seven months or longer, and found the idea both harrowing and interesting, all at once. "You must like it okay here," she said. "I mean, just assuming that you aren't stuck here and unable to move on somewhere else. From what I heard that happens to people here sometimes."