She likes the idea of privacy. If not only for her sake, but Finnick's as well. He's flawless in the eye of the public. Annie knows the role that he has to play. She has her own role as well; though she hasn't had trouble playing it on her own end. It's easy to be the poor mad girl of District 4 when she's here, thrown into the thick of things. Her fear of this place is as real as her own skin. Finnick? He has to put on a show; amplify pieces of himself she knows he would not broadcast to the whole world if he honestly had a choice in the matter. The Finnick that Panem knows is not the Finnick that Annie knows. Not truly. She knows this place is not any easier for him than it is for her; just harder in different ways.
"Yes," she answers him. "I'm looking forward to it." And it isn't a line she says because she thinks he wants to hear it. It will be nice to escape from things for a moment. Slip away from the greenrooms and the training center and the fourth level suite, to find a quite corner where the Games aren't saturating every sensation and carve out their own little refuge from the chaos. It will only get worse before it gets better, she knows, and it will be nice to have something good here in this place to hold on to.
She lets him lead her away. Her first few steps are less graceful than she'd hoped for. The shoes she's wearing make her taller than she's used to being, and her balance is pushed up to her toes. Heels aren't something she gets a lot of practice wearing, and she'd have gone without them entirely if her dress hadn't been so long; liquid blue-black silk still trailing behind her on the floor. She'd paced around the room a few times before he'd arrived to try them out, but her legs seemed to have forgotten her practice for a moment. She squeezes his hand and actually giggles at her blunder before righting herself.
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"Yes," she answers him. "I'm looking forward to it." And it isn't a line she says because she thinks he wants to hear it. It will be nice to escape from things for a moment. Slip away from the greenrooms and the training center and the fourth level suite, to find a quite corner where the Games aren't saturating every sensation and carve out their own little refuge from the chaos. It will only get worse before it gets better, she knows, and it will be nice to have something good here in this place to hold on to.
She lets him lead her away. Her first few steps are less graceful than she'd hoped for. The shoes she's wearing make her taller than she's used to being, and her balance is pushed up to her toes. Heels aren't something she gets a lot of practice wearing, and she'd have gone without them entirely if her dress hadn't been so long; liquid blue-black silk still trailing behind her on the floor. She'd paced around the room a few times before he'd arrived to try them out, but her legs seemed to have forgotten her practice for a moment. She squeezes his hand and actually giggles at her blunder before righting herself.