Finnick's expecting it, if he's going to be honest. He's expecting the way her mouth feels against his, and that desperation that's filling her body - the way her muscles tense and the awkward way she holds herself. He responds mechanically anyway, despite being ready for it.
There's a rebellion, there's a Game. They're going to die, they might live.
His last night with Annie was spent comforting her. He doesn't mind, because it meant he could protect her one last time.
It's a strange parallel to draw on, but it's similar to the way Johanna feels against him. A different kind of comfort, another type of protection. His hands move to her face, rough fingers moving over skin as his thumbs brush over her cheekbones. For a moment, he thinks about telling her no. Like this is a bad idea, like he can't let his last moment be with her instead.
"Okay," he breathes against her mouth before kissing her hard.
no subject
There's a rebellion, there's a Game. They're going to die, they might live.
His last night with Annie was spent comforting her. He doesn't mind, because it meant he could protect her one last time.
It's a strange parallel to draw on, but it's similar to the way Johanna feels against him. A different kind of comfort, another type of protection. His hands move to her face, rough fingers moving over skin as his thumbs brush over her cheekbones. For a moment, he thinks about telling her no. Like this is a bad idea, like he can't let his last moment be with her instead.
"Okay," he breathes against her mouth before kissing her hard.