Re: [Hotel; Finnick]
"Right. Katniss." He pronounced it right this time, off-handedly, as if he had meant to say that the entire time. He brought his hands out of his pockets, his shoulders relaxing back. "Ten years ago, that's a while. So you killed a lot of people then. To survive, right?" He dipped his head and lifted his round eyebrows up, slowly inquiring, his expression not aggressive. He frowned, as if sympathetic, but he wasn't even close to it. "You must definitely be pretty tough then." He worked his elegant jointed fingers around nothing for a moment, thinking, working them like insect legs under the carapace of his fist.
"They're books where I'm from. Like I said, I haven't read it, but I heard it's pretty terrible." He took a step forward, light on his feet as he trod on victory. He put that hand around the back of his neck and made a fist. He could not make nothing out of nothing, but he could take something out of the nothing where it was hidden. It made no sense until it did.
"What are you going to do about it? Badass like you, I can tell you're thinking about it." His voice went soft, the edges of the sibilants hissed on his lips. Another step forward, maneuvering around Finnick until they shared the center of the hallway.