Brown winter boots crunched against the white snow. The freezing winds that blew made Katniss huddle her hunting jacket closer. The Victor's Village, now called the Village Square, was lonely and quiet. Everyone was off to attend the Tribute to Tributes, an honorary to those who died not only in the Games but in the war. But Katniss couldn't stand to go there. Peeta went in honor of his family but it's still too painful for her. All the memories were still too fresh.
Ding...
Ding...
Katniss blinked her eyes and thought she had imagined things. Silence can make you desperate to hear things.
Dong...
Katniss was now sure there was a sound, a piano she guessed, but the real question was, where was it coming from?
As if on cue, individual notes turned into a melody. The song sounded rather sad. Slow and tender tones gave off a feeling of melancholic loneliness. As a child was drawn to the pied piper, Katniss followed the lamenting song through a twist and turn of houses. When her ears seemed to be sure of the source, she found herself in front of Haymitch's home.
She should've guessed he wouldn't attend the ceremony either. But she didn't expect that those hands that was once handy with a knife and had an iron grip on alcohol bottles, would be so elegant on the keys of a piano. She sneaked inside wanting to hear more. And sure enough, Haymitch was in his living room, with a piano that she had once thought was a table. His body language was swaying with the music and Katniss just stood behind the doorframe; silent tears suddenly streaming down her face until Haymitch stopped playing. Haymitch huffed out before pressing on a key, his index lingering on random notes to decide a song. Then, he positioned his hands, seemingly having decided a next piece. As soon as the first set of notes play, Katniss immediately recognized it. Without even thinking, she sang along.
Deep in the meadow
Under the willow
Haymitch seemed to have paused, probably surprised at her presence, but he continued, and so did she.
A bed of grass
A soft green pillow
Haymitch sighed.
Lay down your head
And close your sleepy eyes
Katniss' breathing became more ragged, her heart trying to reduce her to ugly sobs but she kept it together.
And when again they open
The sun will rise
Haymitch stopped playing and they both remained rooted in their spot.
"I didn't know you could play the piano," she spoke.
"When I was little, I always wanted to play the piano,"
Katniss slightly jerked her head to the side, her face scrunched up in confusion.
"I would watch kids from town play the instruments,"
Haymitch turned to face Katniss and his eyes glistened with withheld tears.
"And-and when I won, I was even more eager to learn. I- I took piano as my talent, in honor of Maysilee. I even asked Madelyn, her sister, to teach me. And then..."
His body started to shake badly.
"After my public performance in the Capitol I went home and-" tears began to flow heavily from his face. "My mother, my brother, Janus and my girl, Alina,"
He didn't need to go on. He couldn't go on anyway. He buried his face in his palms and released, with every teardrop, the sorrows of more than two decades of pent up emotion. Katniss tears flowed immediately after.
They didn't even hug each other. They just sobbed hard.
After a while, they both somehow ended up lying on the floor with their faces on the floor while they were crying.
"Look at you, Haymitch," Katniss sniffled. "You look like a horrible sobby mess,"
Haymitch snorted. "You just made up that word, sweetheart," His nose wasn't as stuffy as Katniss yet his voice was raw. "Besides, who went crying and singing like a mental patient for months,"
"Just for the record, I was a mental patient," Katniss let out a slightly bitter laugh. "But I wouldn't be offended since it came from a drunk hypocrite,"
Peeta came a few minutes after that statement was made. The ceremony was over and after not finding Katniss in the house, he figured Katniss doesn't really go anywhere but Haymitch's house since he wasn't there either.
When he got there, a small smile tugged his lips. He found them face first on the floor as if they were little kids who had nothing better to do. Though a part of him is jealous of them, not romantically but how they seem to understand each other well without words, he was happy that at least they have each other when he's... out.
Well a break from writing hayffie and enjoy this hayniss daddy-daughter fluff. Ehhh... For those who read Snow's Last Gift. The 3rd year anniversary of the story is on July 23rd (Woody Harrelson's birthday lol). Hopefully I'll get a chapter up by then. Well if not, at least I'm starting to have ideas :D Anyway hoped you enjoy. Love you guys.