After the war, Effie never picked up her phone. Haymitch stood for hours everyday listening the endlessringing against his ear. He longed for a sound other than the low repetitive murmer, for a click of a button followed by her cheery, high pitched voice. It was strange, because he always thought he hated her voice. Now, it was all he wanted.
With little alcohol and no games to think about, Haymitch was free. For so long he had dreamt of a world where he was safe, no longer a prisoner of the games. And now that it was real, it should have been all he wanted.
So Haymitch realised, as he stood holding the phone to his ear, listening to the sound of the phone that he was so very familiar with now, that the freedom he was gifted with and worked so hard for, meant so little.
It was her. It was Effie Trinket.
That was what meant everything to him.
It was always Effie. She brought light and colour and warmth everywhere she went. If her voice wasn't loud enought, it was her outfit. Pink was her favourite colour, Haymitch remembered. He smiled for a brief moment, which dropped as quickly as it came. Oh- and the sound of her heels clicking in a perfect rhythm. He knew the exact sound of her footsteps so that he could stare at her from the minute he heard her enter the room. He was never the only one staring at her though, because that women, that damn seductress, could capture the attention of any man she wanted. Men would practically fall at her feet, and Effie bloody Trinket knew exactly what game to play. She was a master of her own art. She was...Effie. Just simply Effie. And Haymitch Abernathy missed her perpetually.
Yet, she still choose him. Of all the men she could have had, she chose him. Of course, she had to be awkward and chose the one man she couldn't have. But now it was diifferent. He was calling so he could get her, at least thats what Haymitch was hoping. She could have him.
And despite the safety and comfort of the better world that he now loved in, Haymitch was still scared. Perhaps Effie had moved on. He wouldn't blame her either- she deserved better. Better than a damaged man with a short temper, crippling liver, and the blood of real people on his hands. In that moment, it became clear to him that he needed Effie. She brought the best out of him, which was why it hurt so much to think that he might never see her again.
Was it selfish? Yes. He wanted Effie. He needed her. He- he loved her. Love. Now he could say it and nobody would die. It still scared him slightly to think that, but it was only a habit he had for most of his life.
And he couldn't even say it to her because she wouldn't pick up the phone.
The phone still rang, and Haymitch still stared at the wooden floor beneath him. It was getting late, darkness was burying the house around him. The absence of Effie's warm purr of a voice made him thirsty for a drink. The house, the dark, the clock ticking and the phone ringing he hated. The one thing he wanted, he couldn't have.
She'd most likely gone. Continued with her life, put the games behind her. Why couldn't he? What was the deal with love? He wanted t move on so badly, but he couldn't. Everywhere he went he saw something that reminded him of Effie. It was like his world was entirely made up of her. It was all he was. There was no alcohol or war to stop him. Yet here he was. A phone-a fucking phone of all things- stopping him from finding her. Why was it so hard? He slammed the phone down, anger simmering inside him. He could do anything now, and somehow he could do nothing to get to Effie.
In that moment, Katniss burst through his living room door. Her breath was fast, like she'd just been running, and a smile radiated from her face. It was very out of character for Katniss. Haymitch opened his mouth to ask what was going on, but she beat him to it, barely containing her joy. In a breathy voice, she remarked 'He's- Peeta is coming home tomorrow!' she laughed excitedly, only adding to her lack of breath. She continued anyway 'Effie's bringing him ba-'
'What?' Haymitch cut in, thrown into a spirally mix between shock and happiness at the mention of Effie. It made him glow inside to see Katniss finally happy, and to know that Peeta was finally well enough to return home. Though, admittedly above all, it was Effie's mention that really sparked himup.
Katniss replied with a high pitched 'Effie is bringing him back on the train. He called me just now. Says they're arriving at about 7ish. I, I-' She lost track of her words and let out a squeal, followed by a small amount of bouncing.
Happiness reached every single cell of Haymitch's body. It consumed him like a disease. Haymitch couldn't think of anything to say in the moment, so he suprised himself by letting out a bellowing, happy laugh. His face lit up with a smile, which was so strong it hurt. Tomorrow, at 7am, he was going to see Effie. After hours of endless ringing and doubting, he was going to see her. It was all he could think about, it was like he was flying.
This is what freedom is, he thought.
In fact, it was more. It was happiness.
With little alcohol and no games to think about, Haymitch was free. For so long he had dreamt of a world where he was safe, no longer a prisoner of the games. And now that it was real, it should have been all he wanted.
So Haymitch realised, as he stood holding the phone to his ear, listening to the sound of the phone that he was so very familiar with now, that the freedom he was gifted with and worked so hard for, meant so little.
It was her. It was Effie Trinket.
That was what meant everything to him.
It was always Effie. She brought light and colour and warmth everywhere she went. If her voice wasn't loud enought, it was her outfit. Pink was her favourite colour, Haymitch remembered. He smiled for a brief moment, which dropped as quickly as it came. Oh- and the sound of her heels clicking in a perfect rhythm. He knew the exact sound of her footsteps so that he could stare at her from the minute he heard her enter the room. He was never the only one staring at her though, because that women, that damn seductress, could capture the attention of any man she wanted. Men would practically fall at her feet, and Effie bloody Trinket knew exactly what game to play. She was a master of her own art. She was...Effie. Just simply Effie. And Haymitch Abernathy missed her perpetually.
Yet, she still choose him. Of all the men she could have had, she chose him. Of course, she had to be awkward and chose the one man she couldn't have. But now it was diifferent. He was calling so he could get her, at least thats what Haymitch was hoping. She could have him.
And despite the safety and comfort of the better world that he now loved in, Haymitch was still scared. Perhaps Effie had moved on. He wouldn't blame her either- she deserved better. Better than a damaged man with a short temper, crippling liver, and the blood of real people on his hands. In that moment, it became clear to him that he needed Effie. She brought the best out of him, which was why it hurt so much to think that he might never see her again.
Was it selfish? Yes. He wanted Effie. He needed her. He- he loved her. Love. Now he could say it and nobody would die. It still scared him slightly to think that, but it was only a habit he had for most of his life.
And he couldn't even say it to her because she wouldn't pick up the phone.
The phone still rang, and Haymitch still stared at the wooden floor beneath him. It was getting late, darkness was burying the house around him. The absence of Effie's warm purr of a voice made him thirsty for a drink. The house, the dark, the clock ticking and the phone ringing he hated. The one thing he wanted, he couldn't have.
She'd most likely gone. Continued with her life, put the games behind her. Why couldn't he? What was the deal with love? He wanted t move on so badly, but he couldn't. Everywhere he went he saw something that reminded him of Effie. It was like his world was entirely made up of her. It was all he was. There was no alcohol or war to stop him. Yet here he was. A phone-a fucking phone of all things- stopping him from finding her. Why was it so hard? He slammed the phone down, anger simmering inside him. He could do anything now, and somehow he could do nothing to get to Effie.
In that moment, Katniss burst through his living room door. Her breath was fast, like she'd just been running, and a smile radiated from her face. It was very out of character for Katniss. Haymitch opened his mouth to ask what was going on, but she beat him to it, barely containing her joy. In a breathy voice, she remarked 'He's- Peeta is coming home tomorrow!' she laughed excitedly, only adding to her lack of breath. She continued anyway 'Effie's bringing him ba-'
'What?' Haymitch cut in, thrown into a spirally mix between shock and happiness at the mention of Effie. It made him glow inside to see Katniss finally happy, and to know that Peeta was finally well enough to return home. Though, admittedly above all, it was Effie's mention that really sparked himup.
Katniss replied with a high pitched 'Effie is bringing him back on the train. He called me just now. Says they're arriving at about 7ish. I, I-' She lost track of her words and let out a squeal, followed by a small amount of bouncing.
Happiness reached every single cell of Haymitch's body. It consumed him like a disease. Haymitch couldn't think of anything to say in the moment, so he suprised himself by letting out a bellowing, happy laugh. His face lit up with a smile, which was so strong it hurt. Tomorrow, at 7am, he was going to see Effie. After hours of endless ringing and doubting, he was going to see her. It was all he could think about, it was like he was flying.
This is what freedom is, he thought.
In fact, it was more. It was happiness.
