They fall back onto the bed, Finnick's body on top of hers. It doesn't take much for him to shift his weight so that he's not resting on her, not pinning her down. He remembers that it only took him a few times to learn how to do that in the beginning. He's always been a quick learner.

His hands move under her shirt, dragging against skin. It's soft, because the Capitol stylists know what they're doing when they're not dressing girls up like trees. But it's not Annie soft. Hard muscles meet his fingers, but that doesn't stop him. Johanna's not Annie. Her shirt comes up with his hands, fingers spread out over her rib cage.

Finnick breaks the kiss, breathing hard as he looks her over for a moment. Then he leans in again, teeth scraping gently over her jawline as his mouth moves down her neck, hands sliding up until he's palming her breasts.

Whatever reason they're doing this for, he's going to make it good. Make it count.