Exhausting was probably the best word for Haymitch. Octavia stared quietly at the man passed out on her couch, contemplating his ever feature. He was older than her, too old for her many would say, and his face was etched with the lines of his years. She studied the curve of his brow, furrowed in a nightmare, the arch of his neck, the slump of his shoulders and she shook her head. He was the most exhausting human being she had ever known.
He had his good days, of course. Those were the days where he was kind to her, with only the slightest touch of liquor on his breath and the faintest trace of it in his kiss. He would be gentle with her then, watching his words, minding his gaze. She would feel the warmth of his smile, her smile, the one he only shared with her. She would have his laughter in her ears, his hands in hers, and his presence surrounding her. Those were the days she loved him. Those were the days she watched slip away slowly.
The days that replaced them could be anywhere from bad to mortifying. The sweet words replaced by harsh slurs. The caresses turned into rough grabs and pulls. He wouldn't watch what he said to her in front of people, often divulging details about their private life in polite company. Those were the nights she would have to leave parties early, ashamed and barely holding back tears. They were nights she would try to keep him calm enough to sleep, only to have him wake, screaming, from nightmares hours later. Those were the days she resented him.
She never hated him. Hate was too strong for what she felt toward him, but she hated herself. She hated how she shared her bed with him, only to have him fill it with vomit and the stench of alcohol. She hated how she had to look after him so carefully. She hated how she had to lock up her liquor with 3 locks. She hated how it was never his fault that he was like this. She hated how she came from the place that ruined, ruined, ruined this man.
That night had been a bad night. He had caused another fight between her and Effie. Octavia wondered if she could keep defending him, defending her choice. She was tired and it was all because of him. She thought of all the quiet words that blossomed into screaming matches after he had been drinking, the shame the sympathetic looks her neighbors gave her brought, the utter disregard for her feelings and a voice inside her screamed, 'STOP DOING THIS TO YOURSELF! GET RID OF HIM!' and she would almost listen.
He shifted in his sleep and Octavia stood immediately to get a blanket from her linen closet. She wrapped the soft cloth around him and tenderly touched his face. Haymitch sighed in his sleep and she felt the same twinge of happiness she had gotten before the embarrassment, the fights, the hate. She placed a soft kiss on the top of his head and shut off the lights in her living room. He would be awake in a few hours, stumbling into her bed where he would kiss her sloppily on the cheek and mutter a slurred apology before settling against her back to sleep. And that was the time she loved him anyway.