It takes a second longer than she's probably expecting to get him to look up, but he eventually does, though very reluctantly. More for how he's unsure he can keep his words in check if he looks at her. It's easier to remember not to speak when he isn't looking at someone he's used to speaking freely with.

And maybe he should have kept to that strategy, because what she says has him replying before he can think better of it, before he can remember that maybe the Capitol didn't want him to realize what he does, but the words stumble across his lips.

"I have to try, it's my last chance," he bites his lip after, clearly looking like he shouldn't have said that, maybe they were vague enough. Maybe the Capitol won't realize he's aware that they don't plan to bring him back, that he's too much of a hassle, that once he dies this arena, he's dead for good. Maybe, just maybe, the Capitol will think he means it would be his last chance for redemption, his last chance to be a good tribute.

He can't just stay quiet after that, he needs to roll with it, he needs to say something more, "Ground keeps my feet, helps with something."