The week came and went all too quickly. However, they had shared some particularly sweet moments together that they never had before. Building a big bonfire together and roasting marshmallows and making s'mores together, ending up wearing the majority of the marshmallows as he started a food fight- and lost. Lying under the stars that same night, cuddled up to him. Waking up in the morning in each other's arms. Being able to just TALK to one another without using code. Simply relaxing together.

That morning, she almost dreaded getting up to get ready. Her mother had purchased her tickets for her, had paid for everything without complaint-it wasn't that. It was leaving him. For the first time, she knew what it felt like to leave someone you love more than anything. To say goodbye, even knowing that you would see each other again, but knowing the absence would be terrible.

The goodbye wasn't teary, but short and almost cold from both of them. They both knew that any qualms from the other would end badly for both, so the goodbye was a simple kiss and a wish well.

Sure, he had the cellphone she had forced him to use to be able to communicate with her. But it wasn't the same as being with him. As squeezing him when he startled awake, to let him know she was there. As feeling his lips caress hers in a stolen kiss. Even as just his presence being there.

She knew from the drunken texts at odd hours of the morning that he was hurting. It broke her heart in the morning to awaken to texts like "Plez talke toooo me." She knew him- she knew he would only request something such as that in an hour of desperation. And she hadn't even been there for him. Even if he was drunk-that didn't end the fact that he was hurting. She realized how much it had probably stung when she told him she was leaving in their few months together. But she also knew that he knew the value of family time-when you don't know when you'll lose them.

Those three months were hell for the both of them. He buried his sorrows in drinking, as usual, but actually tried for her. He did the work she asked him to do-hey, it gave him something to do. And also worked on a few things he knew she didn't exactly prefer about him.

She spent her time hectically busy, planning and working to make every detail perfect. when she could, she tried to talk to Haymitch as much as possible. she tried to make sure he was ok. she did enjoy the time with her family, however, as it was valued time she could make up from being absent to the games every year, and their being absent any other time.

The date of the party couldn't come soon enough. Then, the next day she could go right home to him. To his arms. To his huge, otherwise empty house.
That night, she made her costume as elaborate as possible, beautiful, glittery, stunning. But nothing about it made her feel beautiful. Not now that she knew what real beauty meant because of him.

The party had started only minutes ago, and she was socializing, buzzing around the room busily, but had finally settled in a group of closer friends. She felt a strong tap on her shoulder, and startled, she turned around. The man who had requested her attention was broad-shouldered, standing a few incehs taller than she. He wore a mask that drew into points to suggest an anubis-like figure, but that stopped at his mouth and drew down on the sides to cover the jaw-line. What she could see of his face was painted snow white, but his fluffy beard was left brown. What she could see of his brown hair was slicked back, stiff. He wore red contacts, and the rest of his face she could see through the eye holes of the mask was painted black. He wore a black suit with a blood red shirt and black tie, all adorned with a sweeping black cloak. Overall, he seemed rather imposing. But he had come right up to her. Requested her in an assertive way. Something about him told her she was safe, but he gave off a sense of danger.

"I...I'm terribly sorry...but...I'm going to have to decline, sir."

He leaned close to her ear, and whispered so that she could barely hear, "That's a shame, sweetheart. I was really hoping ot have a dance with my girl."

By that time, her other capitolite friends had wandered away to one of the food tables, and no one was watching. She couldn't help but smile with absolute joy. There was no other way she could describe it. He had gone to all this trouble just to come to see her. "Haymitch...I can't believe this." She wrapped her arms around him, almost crying at how joyful, again, it made her to be in his arms again. To feel him against her again. To just have him there. "You did this all for me...?"

"All of it's makeup, sweetheart. But." He kissed her lightly. "We can get away with anything tonight. No one will know we're together. We'll be safe."

she smiled, and kissed him again. "And I take it you've even thought of a fake name?"

"Beyarie Degier." he chuckled. "From the capitol, of course. We were old school friends, remember?"

"Ah, Yes! Beyarie! How nice to see you again." she giggled and kissed him again, but pulled away grimacing. "Please tell me you're going to trim that after tonight. I like your beard when you keep it shorter, but this is a little much."

He rolled his eyes. "That's fake, too."

She laughed. "Well Beyarie. what do you say we catch up?"

He smirked. "Sounds good to me, sweetheart."