Luke’s smile falls and he quirks a brow, helping himself to one last, long swallow of beer he half-suspects he’ll need before setting it down and reaching for the note. The Capitol breeds paranoia – all the easier to keep tributes in line - and it doesn’t escape him that there might be cameras tucked into his room as well, eliminating all the subtlety and secrecy of communicating by writing. But it’s a moot point now while he unfolds the piece of paper, curiosity and the smallest twinge of dread stirring in the pit of his stomach as he does.

Two lines on a piece of paper. That’s all there is. And for the first half-second he thinks it might be some kind of misplaced joke until he looks up and into Nick’s face and realizes that there’s no ‘maybe’ about this. This isn't a suggestion Nick's making. It's a statement of fact made in the hopes of finding approval, maybe. Something Nick wouldn't here.

Luke's eyes come alive, bright and fierce like those of animal backed into a corner.

“Goddammit Nick, no—! Hey--” He can feel heat rising within him and he cuts himself off, breathing and breathing as he fights to wrangle his emotions into submission and iron them out of his voice. Eyes and ears are everywhere.

“...Nobody’s jus’… runnin’ off doin’ their own thing, okay?” He presses on after a while, quieter now. Every word edged with a seething undercurrent of despair and frustrated helplessness. “We discuss this and we decide as a group.”