Finnick Odair

Finnick Odair could appreciate one thing about the Capitol; their fashion. Over the top, perhaps, bordering the fine line between being flamboyant and utterly unfathomable, designers were one thing the capitol was not shy of. As a previous victor of the Hunger Games, he made public appearances yearly-- for President Snow's benefit, just to show that control was still had, and that winning the games had brought him happiness. An with public appearances came the need for him to look his best.

Well, another thing he could appreciate about the Capitol was their choice of stylist for him, you. He did not mind you in the slightest. He frankly knew nothing on the subject of fashion, prefering the most demure of attire when he was back in district 4. That was why everything you did served to prod at his interest. Wverything you did was all the more impressive to him than it was to the wider Capitol.

"Caeser Flickerman sends his regards." Finnick mused, those devilish dimples of his visible when he smiled at you, fussing over to preserve his outfit after the TV appearance with the new tribute he was mentoring for that year's games. Poor little soul, that one was. "He said you've outdone yourself. Very District Four, ocean-y." He added, his tone quite tongue and cheek.

"I like this little pendant with the sea star, darling." He added, flicking it lightly with two fingers, so it caught the low, mellow light of your workshop. It reflected the light, much like his sea-green eyes did as they met yours. The genuine air in his tone was dampened slightly by the return of the lazy mirth dancing over his sunkissed features. "May I keep it? Or are you going to continue hoarding every little accessory I've worn as a token of adoration?"

He was teasing you, you were sure of it.