{ ✡ };; The pages in his hands cracked like an old man’s
back as the wind played with them. He paid it no mind, but focused on the girl. ❝This one,❞ he explained, raising the book, as if he meant to toast — seeing as how she held one in her hands, too. ❝Most of it is quite good, but there is one thing, which constantly trials my patience; — the side romance.❞
"What's it about...?" Annie murmured quietly, her voice rather light, almost airy. The way she spoke gave away the madness. Each syllable that passed through Annie's full lips came out in something like a question. If you wanted to hear the young, mad victor, you needed to listen. If you didn't listen, you would miss her voice completely. "Oh..." Annie whispered, her wide, anxious green eyes suddenly going empty. She often avoided the topic of romance. It made her think of Finnick. Of death, and loss, and torture. "Romance is rather...overdone, in novels...isn't it..." Annie breathed in sharply, before turning her gaze back towards the man's. "It's...unrealistic."










