"Got a light?" Effie asked, putting a long cigarette between her bright pink lips as the heavens opened. "Oh God, here we go."
The Capitol refused to allow her to smoke inside their precious penthouse, but allowed her to on the roof. Portia usually joined her, much to Cinna's displeasure.
"Sure," Portia replied with a sigh. Neither of them particularly liked smoking, but they were hooked, and it had been quite the rage ten years ago. "You know, Cinna's going to kill me if he smells this one me again."
Effie took a long drag and felt her whole body relax as the chemicals filled her lungs. "Screw him," she said, letting the smoke leave her lungs again. The rain was now pouring, but there was little either woman could do but cover their cigarettes in an attempt to keep them dry. This was the only time of the day – last thing before bed – that they could get away for this, and they certainly weren't going to let it go to waste because of a few spots of rain. At least, that was what Effie told herself as she felt her wig get heavy with water.
"You're a little lopsided," Portia said with a smirk as Effie shook her head slightly in an attempt to dislodge the water. "It's pointless," she added, turning her pretty face to the sky and blowing out smoke through her nostrils. "This rain isn't letting up. I'm going in. Hopefully Cinna won't notice the smell."
"I doubt he will, you've barely had any of that," Effie said miserably, looking at the now sodden cigarette. "Sure I can't tempt you with another one?" She offered the gold-plated box that held her stash; it had been a gift from a past lover, and although she had discarded him, she couldn't bear to throw away such a pretty gift as this.
Portia just shook her head, her silver hair throwing off droplets of water as she did so. "I should be getting in now. Cinna and I have a few ideas we want to play around with before going to sleep tonight."
"Spare me the details, darling," Effie joked as Portia turned her back and made her way inside again.
"I was talking about outfits!" Portia laughed over her shoulder just before the door swung shut and Effie was left on the roof alone.
Not for long.
"That's a filthy habit, you know," came a dry voice from behind her as she flicked the burned-up cigarette away from her.
She didn't jump. She was half expecting him. She only hid her smile.
"So's drinking."
"At least I'm not willingly ingesting chemicals that will destroy my lungs from the inside out." She felt a pair of hands encircle her waist.
"No, you prefer to work your liver that way instead, don't you, Mr Abernathy?"
"How rude," Haymitch growled into her ear, holding her tighter to him.
She pulled out of his arms quickly and turned to look at him, her face quizzical. "But I called you 'mister'!"
"You're funny, you know that?" he said dryly as she smiled coyly at him.
"Come look at the lights Haymitch!" she said suddenly, grabbing his hand and dragging him to the side of the building. Her face was alight as they stood together at the railings that lined the edge of the rooftop. Out in front of them sprawled the entire Capitol. Even though the sun had set and stars were twinkling in the black sky, the city was still bright with lights. Skyscrapers stretched high into the air, most of them still blazing with an entire rainbow of colours, streets still alive with cars and brightly coloured people that seemed to sleep all day and play all night. The city went on for miles in every direction, its light not stopping until the buildings did somewhere far in the distance.
"Isn't it just beautiful?" Effie sighed after a moment, reaching up to pull her wig from her head. It was dripping with water as Effie dropped it onto the floor next to her, leaving a trail of water around it. Haymitch grinned – it always reminded him of a painting he had once seen in the Capitol. The painting was of a woman they say had been the last queen of a place called France – Marie Antoinette, they called her. Apparently that woman had once told her staff to let the peasants "eat cake" to compensate for their total poverty, which sounded a lot like Effie now Haymitch came to think of it. She always insisted that the Tributes they were sent each year eat as much as they liked whilst they were in the Capitol's care, as though that would somehow make up for the lifetime of ill-treatment and impending slaughter. Ah well, at least she tried.
"It's alright," Haymitch conceded. Well, yes, it was pretty enough, but somewhat of a waste, wasn't it? She didn't know the dozens, maybe hundreds, of men that died to produce the coal needed for this energy. Mind you, if she did, she'd probably refuse to use anything electrical again in horror. Despite being a Capitol fluffball, Haymitch had to accept that she was a fairly nice person. She always wanted what was best for him, and always did as much as she could for the Tributes, be that arranging to have their favourite food for dinner to organising meetings with the more affluent sponsors for him to all but rob – for the Tributes, of course.
Effie rolled her heavily decorated eyes and turned to him. "It's beautiful, admit it."
"I can see something far more beautiful from here," he replied with a wink.
"Clearly you've started on the good alcohol tonight," she said with a raised eyebrow.
"Something like that."
"You, Mr Abernathy, are the absolute epitome of a wasted man!" she said incredulously, hitting his arm playfully.
"I resent that… I think."
"You seem to resent most of what I say," she half-laughed, grabbing one of his hands in hers and pulling him towards the door.
"Hey, where are we going?"
"Inside – if you hadn't already noticed, I'm completely soaked! And it's quite indecent for a lady to be alone at this time of night with such a drunkard!"
Haymitch grinned. Perhaps she needed help changing out of her wet clothes, or help warming up… in a hot shower, maybe?
"So darling," Effie whispered once they reached her doorway and she pulled his body close up against hers, tilting her face. "What do you suggest happens to me now?"
"Well, princess," Haymitch began with a grin. "I'd have to say you should get out of that wet dress of yours. You could catch your death, you know."
"Is that so?" she asked, looking up at him through her long eyelashes.
He was about to reply, but was cut off as he felt her hand brush up his inner thigh.
"Sorry, I didn't catch that," she purred into his ear. "What did you say, Mr Abernathy?"
He bit down on his lip to stop himself from making a noise and closed his eyes as he felt her face move tantalisingly close to his.
There was a sudden whoosh, and when he opened his eyes, all he could see was a door that was swinging shut.
"Hey Eff!" he called through the door, pounding on the wood as it snapped shut. "What are you doing?"
"Changing!" she trilled back.
"Can I come in?" he asked hopefully.
She laughed at that. "Most certainly not!"
"Aw, c'mon Eff, why not?"
"It's indecent!"
"That's not what you said last night," he grumbled back, not loud enough for her to hear.
"What was that, darling?" she called to him from inside her room.
"You're an awful tease, you know that, princess?"
The tone of her reply was aloof, authorative, one of a person who was trying too hard not to laugh. "Darling, when are you going to realise, I'm not a princess – I'm a queen."