Finnick allows Cinna to touch him. He sizes up Finnick the way many stylists would, which feels at once familiar and strange, but the way he squeezes Finnick's shoulders after is different. Many Capitol stylists and image teams don't bother to get to know you, some don't even seem to think of you as human, more a doll to dress. Clearly, that is not the case with Cinna.
At first, Finnick laughs softly at the mention of styling him for the Games, but as he listens further, he very much likes what he hears. Somehow, even though Cinna has rarely seen Finnick in clothing that he chose for himself, he seems to completely understand Finnick's personal style and what would look good on him.
"Wow. Yeah, hot damn, I would wear the hell out of that. Sounds sexy." He grins. It sounds very comfortable and practical, too.
"I think I need some kind of gloves, too. The salt and wind and ropes make my hands really rough." He looks down at his hands, splaying his fingers, and they do indeed look chapped and calloused.
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At first, Finnick laughs softly at the mention of styling him for the Games, but as he listens further, he very much likes what he hears. Somehow, even though Cinna has rarely seen Finnick in clothing that he chose for himself, he seems to completely understand Finnick's personal style and what would look good on him.
"Wow. Yeah, hot damn, I would wear the hell out of that. Sounds sexy." He grins. It sounds very comfortable and practical, too.
"I think I need some kind of gloves, too. The salt and wind and ropes make my hands really rough." He looks down at his hands, splaying his fingers, and they do indeed look chapped and calloused.