A/N: As said in this story's summary, this is for Maristela Freesia's 100 Theme Challenge.
Rating: T
Summary: Haymitch has a conversation with "his girl" and muses about the the complexity of love.
Theme One: Love
Four Letters
Love is a four letter word. Who knew four letters could mean so much? I didn't, but I know better now. As she lay dying in my arms, I can almost understand the word. I understand as tears run down my face, cleaning the coal dust off my face.
Her eyes probe my gray ones with unusual intensity, "Take care of her."
"I will," I choke out.
"I mean it, Haymitch."
I try to laugh but it comes out as a sob. I hold her hand as she dies, her last smile still playing on her lips. I pull her closer to me and cry softly into her silky hair. I keep her body warm, hoping that if I do she'll somehow come back to me. But she's not going to, I know this all too well. Every person I love has been taken from me. My mother, my father, my little brother.
I sob again, realizing how this is all too similar to an earlier experience. I went through the same thing with Maysilee, I held her hand as she died. I cried when I thought the cameras weren't watching, couldn't let them see that the cocky front I put on was all an act.
I love- I mean, loved- them both. I loved Maysilee and my girl, my Amber. But who did I love more? It's not a question I can answer. I knew Amber longer, I loved her longer. Does that matter with love, though? Does love that lasted only for two weeks count as love, if when she was around you it was like the world was a better place even despite that you were competing in the Hunger Games?
Does it count? I'm sixteen-years old, how am I supposed to figure this out by myself? I have a sudden need to ask my dad . . . but he's gone, too.
Love may be made up of only four letters, but it's the most complex word out there.