on an upcoming event at Abax and plans for dear Finnick :'|

[insecrets]

 ... She's going to punch her way through my chest. And then I will come back blind for a week. You and I, mundane, should have a sweet, private conversation on the sorts of torture I approve of.

[A long, painful silence.] At least Johanna will be safe.

Comments

[effective]

[Wrinkling her nose. You're so gross, Finnick]

[insecrets]

[He grins.]