I put my phone on shuffle, and found five songs. Then, I wrote down 5 A/U's down on a card, shuffled them, and picked one for each song. This, my friend, was the result.
Often
Haymitch rolled on his side, his back facing them. Sleeping alone came naturally to the older man, and it was actually a favorite. It was too much awkwardness to sleep with someone else, too many loud glances and unforgotten memories the morning after.
How drunk had he been, he had no clue. He had said some things, she had some things and then the Effie just showed up. The other girl welcomed her. She was a Capitol bitch, no doubt. Carmela or Chocó or some sort of candy name. Long blue curls that fell past her shoulders and unnatural green eyes that pierced through him. And her lipstick – red, making her lips look thick and delicious – oh god the lipstick. He didn't have to look in the mirror to tell that it had been everywhere on him.
He had called her adorable, she had snorted in disgust. "I'm not cute," she had grinned. "I'll have you and that little princess of yours begging for my mercy." She had said some other things that would have made Haymitch blush if he wasn't so turned on by that tight little behind straddling his lap.
He was exhausted, he realized with a start. Effie had just walked in on them and joined and just… he didn't do very much sleeping that night. Neither did they.
In this city bustling with lights and moans in the middle of the night, he was viewed as god. A sex god, to be more specific. He and a few of the more popular Victors had credit for their… skills in the bedroom. Or the floor. Or the bathroom. Or the alley behind Mickey's Night Club.
"Do you do this a lot?" Effie had asked drily, when the other one had fell asleep. Haymitch glances at his supposed girlfriend – or so the Capitol gossiped – and nodded his head in almost shame.
"Often," he sighs.
"How many times?" She presses. He can't even look at her as he replies.
"Often."
"How many times are you willing to do it with me?"
"Not so often, sweetheart," he whispers, kissing her forehead. "Go to sleep."
"I know. I know how girls throw themselves at you. For your body. For that monster you cart around in your pants. And those…"
"Sweetheart," he groans. "Shh." It was too early, too late, he couldn't tell the difference anymore. But whatever the case, it wasn't the time to talk about this. Effie was persistent, her hair falling to frame her face. She presses a kiss to his bare sweaty shoulder and he sighs. Why was she so gentle? It made him feel like shit.
"Haymitch I-"
"Effie just go to the fuck to sleep," he snaps in frustration. She retracts in hurt before resting her head on his chest. His fingers tangled in the blonde locks that she hid with such care.
"I left him. Faustinus, I mean. I left him. I need to know that if given the chance-" He tackled her, pinning her to the bed. His mouth trailed sloppy, uncoordinated kisses down her body. She gasps, gripping the dirty brown locks of his hair.
"Yes," he murmurs. "Yes, Effie."
Pumped Up Kicks
One body, two body, three body, four. How many, how many, how many more?
Haymitch kicked the body of the bank teller aside, turning to his partners in crime. Effie Trinket and Katniss Everdeen stood aside, watching as he had ruthlessly murdered so many people. The customers weren't here, the bank hadn't even opened yet. It was always best to strike at morning. Or night. Either way. It saved lives.
The less dead, the better.
"What are you gaping like fish out of water for? Get the fucking money!" He snaps at them. He had been a little snappish as of late, seeing as Snow cut him off unless he made good runs. He was frustrated a tired but they all were. Katniss didn't see it as an excuse to be an asshole.
Effie rolls her eyes, though, ignoring the outburst. "That's not my job. I flirt with security, I lure men into traps, and I seduce women. But I do not steal money." Haymitch groans, running a hand over his face. He loved Effie, he really did, but sometimes she could be such a pain in the ass.
"Just get the money Effie," he sighs. She pouts her lips, red and plump, and gives him a proper frown. One thing he could say about his girl was that she knew how to have men coming to their knees.
"Please just make Katniss do it baby," she whines. Katniss whirls around at that, her hands full of money.
"Are you two serious? How come Effie always gets her way? It's not fair!" The girl was newbie, fresh to the games. She didn't know how things worked, but being assigned to Division 12 of their Sector wasn't the highlight of her days. Her counterpart, Peeta Mellark, usually came along to stand up for her and prevent the older couple from undermining her.
But he had the flu.
Haymitch fires one warning shot in the air, and the girls jump. It was dangerous. It could alert people, they could get caught. The last thing he needed to do was show up in Coin's court again for another armed robbery charge. It would be life in prison this time.
"Goddamnit you two! I've been doing this longer than either of you and what I say goes!"
"So what do you say, baby?" Effie asks, her arms still wrapped around his waist. Katniss glared angrily. She had grown on the old man, and he had grown on her. Enough for him to call her baby girl when he wasn't stressed out. But Effie was still his fiancé, and she simply didn't have that same effect on him. It frustrated her to no end.
"I say, Katniss get the damned money and let's beat it. We don't have much time until customers arrive." Effie squeals and claps her hands, but Katniss is less enthusiastic. She grumbles something about Effie just being a stuck up bitch and Effie flashes her a middle finger.
"I've got no idea what I'm going to do with my two girls," he sighs. After they've collected as much money as they are able to carry, they exit through the back door and load it up in the trunk of Haymitch's SUV, covering the black trash bags with tarp and then tossing a bunch of junk on it.
Katniss sits in the back, Haymitch driving and Effie in the passenger seat, painting her nails a sickly metallic color that resembles blood. Rolling her eyes, Katniss settles back in her seat. Hopefully, she'll sleep heavy enough not to hear Haymitch and Effie's constant nagging, kissing, and sweet nothings.
.-.-.
Love Runs Out
Haymitch watches Effie as she stares out over the village, her long curls blowing everywhere.
"M'lady?"
"Haymitch," she smiles, turning to see him. "Look at the beautiful sunset. Come join me, yes?"
"Of course, m'lady," he murmurs, repressing the urge to roll his eyes. He had such bad news, he decided to spare her their arguments for now. Although it would help with the mood of the room.
She was the Queen of this Kingdom, but she had yet to wed and birth a heir to the throne, even at her age of thirty-four. The government could not wait until she was unable to have children, they were forcing her to wed and birth immediately. He almost cringed to tell her who.
King Seneca of Varille. He was, in short, an annoying whiny man who didn't deserve love. He too had no children, and was unmarried. He proposed her hand in marriage and the council had already accepted and begun to plan the wedding. And they sent him to break the news.
"Haymitch? Is there something wrong?" She asks, turning to place her hands on his chest. He wishes he could wed her instead, take her away from that slimy bastard but alas, Knights did not get to wed or marry royalty. Unless they were a princess, in that case they had all the right to attempt her hand.
"Eff- m'lady," he catches himself. "Congratulations on your new engagement." She laughs.
"What are you talking about, you foolish man? I am not engaged. I couldn't be, I am courting you," she points out. He sighs, shaking his head. She couldn't go around with those types of things, Queen or not, they'd have her head in seconds. Knights and Royalty were forbidden, it was the former kings law. After of course, his wife had an affair with a knight.
"No, you are marrying Sir Seneca Crane of Varille," then, in a lower voice. "The council already decided it, Effs. I'm sorry."
"No! I refuse to marry that vile beast!" She snaps. Before turning to him. "Marry me. Please. Marry me. I love you, marry me," she's begging now, stepping into dangerous lands.
"I can't," he murmurs, holding her to him. He was without armor, so she could feel the hard muscles beneath. It comforted her, knowing that if need be he would protect her. "I can't, princess."
She snorts. He called her princess growing up because that's what she was. A princess. But he had used it snide remarks and snarky answers, not as a proper title. But now, his voice so soft and filled with regret and sorrow, she couldn't sense a bit of sass.
"Haymitch," she whines, tugging at the bottom of his shirt. He knew what she wanted, she always wanted it when she was distressed. And like always, he gives it to her. He removes his shirt and grabs her, pushing her into her bedroom.
She falls on the bed, and he crawls on top of her, kissing the corner of her mouth.
"Haymitch, save me," she pleads. He bites down on her shoulder to get her to be quiet because to be honest, he couldn't save her. And that thought burned his insides like iron on a faerie so he simply makes her stop talking. That's what he was always good for, anyways.
.-.-.
Rude
Haymitch untangles his limbs from hers, carefully so she still sleeps. He goes to the closet that they share, removing a clean shirt and a pair of his best jeans. Scribbling a note on a piece of paper, he tucks it between her arms before disappearing from their shared apartment.
-x-
"Abernathy, what are you doing here soldier?" Her father asks. Haymitch thinks that he should have worn his dress blues, but ignores the thought. That's not the point here.
"I know that you're an old-fashioned man, and I want to ask you something. I uh… I know Euphemia and I are from two different sides of the street but I love her, and she loves me. So… I came to ask if I can have your daughter for the rest of my life. Can I make her… my wife?" The young 20-year-old was here, pouring his heart out to his girlfriend's old man. And the man just laughs in his face. Just like that.
"You'll never get my blessing in all your years son! You're filthy scum that fights for the other side of the team, you should be lucky I even let her court you. Get out of my face with that hilarity," he says, and goes to close the door. Haymitch puts his foot in it, staring the man is his eyes angrily.
"I hate to do this, but you're leaving me no choice. I love her, and she loves me," he repeats his earlier statement. "And you know she'll follow me wherever I go. So I'll give you another chance. Can I have your daughter as my wife, please?"
"Tough luck son, answer is still no. Now get your foot out of my door before I call the police.
"I'm gonna marry her anyway," Haymitch growls, gritting his teeth. "I'll marry her no matter what you say. And haven't you ever learnt you manners sir? It's rude to slam the door in somebody's face." The old man rolls his eyes and shuts the door, and Haymitch slumps to the stairs in defeat.
It had been his only chance, and he blew it.
-x-
"You're breathtaking," he whispers, tucking a blonde curl behind her ear. Effie giggles, blushes and looks down. In her wedding gown – something she had borrowed from her mother – she looked fantastic. He knew it was bad luck to see the bride before the wedding but he just couldn't help himself. He needed to see his princess.
"Haymitch stop," she replies, wrapping her arms around him lazily. "This is it. After this, it's just me and you… did you get my father's blessing?"
"No. I'm sorry, sweetheart."
"It's not your fault he's so stubborn. I love you, Haymitch Abernathy."
"I love you too, Effie Abernathy."
There is a knock and they both call for the person to enter. It's – surprisingly – her father.
"Daddy!" Effie squeals. The share a hug and some whispers before the old man passes Haymitch a note. The young boy opens it almost cries in relief.
You finally got my blessing, boy.
.-.-.
Make You Feel My Love
He was fading again. Losing himself in the withdrawal symptoms. He wouldn't dare look at her, wouldn't dare sneak a glance at the pitying expression on her face. She had to do something, else he'd drift completely away. So she brushed back his dark curls, kissing his sweaty forehead. He looks up at the sudden signs of her presence before resting back down.
"Hey sweetheart, how you holding up?" It was bizarre. He was almost dying and he was asking about her. She hated that he did that, made her feel useless, weak.
"I love you, Haymitch," she whispers suddenly. He barks squeezes her hand, noting the tears pooling in her eyes. The last thing he wanted was an upset Effie Trinket.
"Love you too, sweetheart. Don't cry," he attempted weakly. She shakes her head, blonde hair bouncing all around.
"No, I mean it. I'd go hungry, I'd go black and blue. I'd go crawling down the avenue on hands and knees. I'd drag myself through a billion shards of glass. Just to make you feel my love."
"Oh princess," he breathes, holding her with shaking arms.
"Your turn," she whispers suddenly. He nods, thinking, before grinning like an idiot.
"I could make you happy, make your dreams come true. Nothing I wouldn't do. Go to the ends of the earth for you. To make you feel my love," he replies. Effie wipes away the tears that had begun to drip down her face.
"Haymitch Abernathy you oaf, look what you've done," she whispers. He kisses the thumb with her tears on them, and she breaks down into sobs. He tugs at her until she is laying directly on top of him, and he wraps his arms around her to keep her steady.
She is still crying when he whispers, "Your turn."
"When the evening shadows and the stars appear, and there is no one there to dry your tears, I could hold you for a million years to make you feel my love. I swear to the high heavens, Haymitch. I would do anything to make you feel my love. Your turn."
"I would never do you wrong. I knew it from the moment that we met, no doubt in my mind where you belong. Here. In my arms. With me, sweetheart. I don't want anyone else with you," he sighs. Haymitch was never so open, so she relished in the moment. It was a bit bittersweet, if she thought about it. The one thing to get him to open up was put him through detox.
"The storms are raging on the rolling sea, and on the highway I believe. The winds are changing, blowing wild and free. You haven't seen anything like me yet," she grins. He kisses the top of her head before laying his head back down on the armrest.
-x-
It had become a game between them. One of them would say something like "I'd give up all my make-up to make you feel my love" or "I went through withdrawal to make you feel my love" and then it became a contest. To see who loved the other the most. It reminded them why they loved each other during the dark moments. And then one day Effie blurted out:
"I'd get pregnant to make you feel my love."