Finnick should have been expecting it. It's not the first time a victor has freaked out; maybe not at him, but in general. He's been doing this for six years, and he should have known not to press an angry victor. He stumbles back from the force of her body, still a little out of it from earlier.

Her nails catch his cheek, and his stylist is really not going to like that. The next guy he has to be with might not like it. Finnick snarls back, grabbing her wrists and pulling her off of him. She might have won through cunning and brute force at the end, but he was a contender from the beginning, and he's never stopped.

He pushes her to the ground face first not really caring about whether it hurts her or not, or the fact that her hair is ruined or her stupid dress. He sits on her back, shifting his weight so that he doesn't crush her at least.

The fact that they're in the middle of the hallway doesn't bother him.

"Don't be an idiot, Johanna."