I am just writing. I have no idea where this is going to go. I hope you enjoy it.
It was the 74th Games. Haymitch and Effie were downstairs, working up some new sponsors.
"Yes ma'am, don't you see the map? Peeta is leading them away from Katniss. That lover boy, always risking his life for Katniss. They truly love each other and a small donation would get Katniss closer to home. It's what Peeta wants, for her to win." Haymitch says. His hand rests on the single woman's knee, and he gives her his best pearly white - thanks to Effie - smile.
"Of course." The woman says, reaching into her purse to find her checkbook. Haymitch claps and then turns to see Effie. In a heated liplock with Seneca Crane. His eye twitches, and he turns to the woman.
"Will you excuse me for a minute please?" he asks, before standing and marching towards him. Effie is laughing and grinning and Seneca has the lust-filled look in his eyes. Haymitch didn't like it.
One minute Effie is listening to her boyfriend talk about the rough edges of his arena, the next she's watching Haymitch pummel him into the ground. Haymitch barely gives Seneca time to react. He tackles him, grabbing his collar. Then he smashes his head against the floor and begins punching him.
Seneca lands a few blows in the scuffle, but is left pretty much helpless. It takes Finnick, Chaff and Brutus to pry the older man off the gamemaker.
"Get off me!" Haymitch growls at them, and they release him. He glares coldly at Effie, then at Seneca, and turns on his heel.
"I need a fucking drink." he growls. After profusely apologizing to everyone about what happened - especially to Seneca, who tells her he wants to see her no longer - Effie scurries back to the twelfth floor, where Haymitch had disappeared too.
"Haymitch Ramone Abernathy, what in the world has gotten into you?!" Effie roars, when she enters the penthouse. Haymitch looks up at her from his spot on the couch with angry steely gray eyes.
"I know who's been getting into you. So what Effie, am I nothing to you?" he asks. Effie rolls her own gray eyes and shakes her head.
"What are you talking about, Haymitch? You're drunk." She says.
"If I am I'm not drunk enough. You know exactly what the fuck I'm talking about." He snaps. Effie purses her lips.
"You will not curse at me, Haymitch. Secondly, no I don't."
"So what is this then? You're the dirty little escort by night who likes to use the Victor as her sex toy, and then the faithful princess by day who is about marry the Head Gamemaker and have all his babies I bet." He says. Effie is taken aback, seeing as he's never put what they have together into words.
"Haymitch," Effie begins. "You don't understand-"
"You're Effie, I fucking don't understand! Because I'm the blundering insufferable drunk from 12 that thinks only with his cock right? So of course, I don't have the fucking intellect to understand. So please, take the time to explain it to me," Haymitch growls. When she doesn't reply, he scoffs. "That's what I thought. Just stay the fuck away, okay?" he says, before grabbing his bottle.
But Effie doesn't let him leave.
"Listen here, Haymitch. You know why I'm with Seneca? To make you jealous. You don't care or love me, it's just sex for you right? I need somebody to love me, not just somebody to fulfill my sexual needs. I love you, Haymitch Abernathy. But you don't love me. I keep tellling myself 'You're not going back to his room, Effie' but for some reason I keep crawling back to you. I am bound to you for reasons unknown and I can't get away from you. But while I wait for you to love me, I'm going to find any sort of love I can recieve. I am a woman, Haymitch. That's what we do."
"You are a fucking joke, you know that? A fucking joke. But while I wait for you to love me, I'm going to find any sort of love I can recieve. Quit bullshitting me, Effie. Because if you loved me, you wouldn't be fucking around with Seneca Crane. No, if you loved me, you would tell me. I know I'm not the easiest to love, because I don't know how. But Jesus Christ woman, do you really think I'm that cold-hearted to lead you on. If I don't love you, I would tell you right here, right now, that our sexual affairs would have to end. You know what love is? Being shit-faced drunk, having women come onto you, and still thinking about coming home to you," Haymitch drives his pointer finger into Effie's chest. "Love is staring at you, with all this shit on your face, and still think 'damn, she's beautiful'. Love is watching you being passed from man to man on the dancefloor, and feeling a hatred for each man because that's not me, that's not me twirling your beautiful self around the dance floor. Now that's love." Haymitch grabs his bottle again and heads to his room, slamming the door angrily.
Effie blinks before smiling broadly. "Did you just say you loved me?"