They walk in silence, trudging through the wilderness until the familiar sound of the cannon stops her in her tracks. She turns and faces him, the boy from her district who up until this point had been her ally; they had kept each other alive through the last couple of days. It had to stop now though, before it got too far. "I- I think we should split up now, there's only five of us left. I don't want it to come down to the both of us. I don't even think I could do it." she says softly. He only nods agreeing with her. "Right, see you then." he says before turning on the spot and walking away. She grabs his hand quickly, preventing him from moving. "Hey," she says softly, "Be careful." He nods, "Yeah, you too." She lets his hand drop and watches him walk off into the bushes and out of sight, she turns as well and walks forward slightly disheartened.
Maysilee didn't want it to end this way, but what else could she do? She and Haymitch were friends; at least they were before they both got reaped. She shook her head angrily and walked, stupid, stupid to think it could have ended any other way. There can only be one winner and it isn't going to be you.
She had met him at school several years ago. They had never shared a word with each other at first, she knew him though as the handsome blonde boy in her class. He was quiet and slightly withdrawn like herself, she often found herself watching him over her book until he'd catch her gaze and she'd look away again embarrassed. Years later she started to deliver food and ingredients at his house every Saturday. She bumped into him one afternoon returning from the Hob and they had their first conversation. He was as quiet as she thought him to be but funny at times and she respected the sense of attentiveness in their small but worthwhile conversations.
From then on he walked her home every day, their conversations were always short but it didn't matter she never was one known for her outgoingness. It was nice; he was nice she had decided. They had bumped into each other of the morning before the Reaping ceremony, like every year she had the familiar feeling of dread. When she asked him how many times his name was in, she winced at his reply. The odds were most definitely not in his favour but he smiled it off- trying to make her feel better. They wished each other luck before departing.
They had called her name first at the Reaping, her heart had stopped all she could think about was her family and the highly likely probability that she wasn't going to make it home. What would they do now without her there to help out? She stopped herself from crying on the stage as the last tributes names were called. Her heart stopped. It was "Haymitch Abernathy." No. Anyone but him.
She watched him mount the stage unable to move or even think anything. She bit down on the inside of her lip to stop herself crying. After saying goodbye to their parents they were whisked off in the train to the Capitol. She had heard all sorts of rumours about how magical and fantastical it was there and how they were in for a few days of total luxury. But none of it mattered, she was going to her death and the boy who she harboured feelings for was going with her.
When they met again in the arena and he suggested become allies she'd be lying to herself if she said she wasn't relived. To have not only an ally and someone she trusted and knew on her side but more than anything she was overjoyed he was alive. It helped it really did, for the first few days they got each other through everything. She took comfort just as she always did from his company; she knew of course that it couldn't last forever.
When the canon sounded she knew it had to stop, there were only five of them left and there was no way that she would be able to kill him. Not the handsome boy with the blonde hair that used to walk me home. Stupid, stupid you're going to die.
Haymitch carried on walking, finding it strange without her there. They had formed alliances quickly and were able to make much more progress than the other, keeping each other alive. It also helped to have someone he knew by his side. They had been friends, back home in District 12. They had met at school, for the first couple years he knew her only as the pretty girl with the blue eyes that read a lot. He didn't know much about her but liked her independent nature. It wasn't until years later that they begun talking, she used to come round every weekend with plants and herbs to give to his mother to make medicine and everyday they'd walk home from school together. Their conversations rarely had an in depth discussions but he preferred it that way and guessed that she did too. She was quiet, attentive and pretty. Very pretty.
The morning of the Reaping ceremony he had bumped into her on the way home, she looked sick with worry and something twinged in his chest. What if her name is called? She had asked him how many times his name was down for selection and his answer had made a terrified look of anguish wash over her face. He didn't mean to make her worry so he gave her a lopsided smile and they wished each other luck before parting ways.
Her name had been called first; he remembers having that sinking feeling in his stomach as he watched her walk on to the stage. He was overcome with the erge to shout out at her, he was angry so angry. No. Not her. But then his name had been called and all other thoughts were pushed from his mind other than the terrifying realisation: you're going to die.
The train ride to the Capitol was nauseating. He supposed he should be getting information on how to survive but all he could do was keeping looking over at her. Her bent head and tear stained face. She wasn't supposed to be here, not with him. It wasn't fair; the only girl he had ever liked was going to her imminent death. He had accepted his own, but not hers.
Their alliance had brought them both a short moment of feeling safe, two people were better than one and they worked well as a team. He was glad to see her alive and being with her was comforting as it always had been. He knew it had to end though. Only one person could win and she was right, he didn't want it to come down to the both of them. He wouldn't be able to kill her, not ever. Not the pretty girl with the blue eyes that he walked home every day.
Haymitch kept on walking but couldn't help but wishing he had said something else before leaving her. It seemed so... harsh just to walk away without a word, after everything they had been through. But then he remembered where he was and what was at stake. Foolish, foolish you're gonna die. He had barely walked 5 minutes when he heard it; a loud, high pitched scream. Her scream. He turned around fast before hearing it again. She screamed his name so loud it made birds scatter and even from the distance he could hear the desperateness. He didn't need to think twice. Haymitch broke into a run, charging through the forest. Stumbling over tree trunks and shoving branches out of the way. He stopped when he reached the clearing. She was on the ground one hand grasping her neck, he could see the blood pumping through her fingers and her eyes were hazy.
He sunk to his knees beside her and pulled her to him, her head resting on his lap. Her blue eyes stared up at him and he found himself lost in them again as he had done several times before. He swallowed the lump in his throat. Maysilee grabbed his hand once more and this time he linked his fingers with hers and gripped back tightly. "Hay-Haymitch." she crocked her voice rough and agonizing. It must be near impossible for her to talk, he tries to calm down- for her. "It's okay, don't try and speak." he whispers. One hand stroking her blonde hair, it was already stained with blood. "W-will you do something for me." she says looking up at him. She blinks and the tears fall from her eyes. He blinks his away.
"What is it?" She chokes, coughing up more blood. He strokes her head again soothingly and she falls back into his lap.
"Win." She says it so forcefully he loses the ability to speak for a moment before swallowing. He nods and leans down to kiss her softly, blood coats her mouth but she presses her lips against his desperately not wanting it to end. He pulls away after what seems a lifetime and she smiles up at him genuinely and whispers something that sounds like "thank you." before her limbs go limp and she doesn't move anymore. Haymitch doesn't move for several seconds until the cannon sounds and he puts a kiss to her forehead. He doesn't want to leave her, especially not lying in a pool of her own blood. So he lifts her up, she's so light it surprises him. He carries her into a secluded spot and lays her back down amongst the long grass and flowers. He kisses her again softy before standing up, his legs are shaking but he manages to walk away. Her blood is still all over his hands and clothes but he can't make the effort to remove it.
5 days later Haymitch Abernathy was crowned the 50th Hunger Games champion; he is taken home and showered in riches and rewards. He becomes a mentor to the future Tributes. Things are supposed go back to normal; better than normal now that he has everything he could ever need. Except they can't and they won't because the pretty girl with the blue eyes and the blonde hair and the books who he used to walk home with everyday didn't return.
He starts to drink, he drinks so much and so often his family grow apart and leave. They don't keep in contact. Each day becomes just another reminder of how he wishes so much that he had died in that arena. But he didn't because he promised her that he'd win in her last desperate moments, how could be not?
Haymitch would never admit to himself or anyone else, but a piece of him died in that arena with Maysilee Donner.