I've edited this chapter as well, though I don't think I've changed or added anything significant. Enjoy! New chapters coming up soon!

Do you guys like the switching views? I'm kind of tempted to just stick to Haymitch since I love him so much, but I feel like being able to understand what's going on in Katniss' head helps with understanding and following the development of the plot.

DISCLAIMER: ALL HUNGER GAMES RELATED CHARACTERS BELONG TO SUZANNE COLLINS

Katniss

By the time I was inside my house my anger over Haymitch's arrogance had cooled. Instead, I was left feeling more alone than I had before and wondering what the flash I'd seen in his eyes meant. I had seen it before, I know I had, I just couldn't remember where. And God! That entire situation was so painfully embarrassing. I mean I was touching his- and his face was in my-. No. Christ. I couldn't think about that. Or how his stomach was surprisingly hard and chiseled under my hand, the one that wasn't touching his-. Ugh! I guess he hadn't entirely given up the workouts we began training with for the Third Quarter Quell after all. I refused to think about how underneath the smell of alcohol and sweat he smelled faintly of earth and spices, reminding me of my woods. I wonder if that's his natural smell or some kind of cologne. Whatever it was, it was comforting. No, Katniss! You are not thinking about it! Or how he was so scantly clothed! Christ. Was he always dressed that way? Or did I just realize it today? Ugh! It doesn't matter Katniss!

I'm so distracted with wrestling my thoughts that when the doorbell rings I yank open the door without wondering who could be on the other side. Haymitch. And all of a sudden I remember where I had seen that look in his eye. In the eyes of my father when he looked at my mother, and in her's when she looked back. In Finnick's when he looked at Annie. In Gale's eyes. And in Peeta's.

I was sure I had never looked at anyone that way, not Gale, not Peeta. Just as I was sure that this was the exact way I was looking at Haymitch standing on my front steps freshly cleaned and shaven, looking at the ground, shuffling his feet, and running a hand through his mess of black, curly hair, mumbling an apology about my birthday. I realize this too late, and don't have enough time to hide it before he looks up and his eyes meet mine.

Haymitch

I steeled myself as I got to her door, half willing myself to turn back around and dive back into my booze. Dammit. I hated apologizing! It set a bad precedent! But I guess I owed it to her a bit, forgetting her birthday and all. But I brought her a bottle of my best booze! Straight from the Capitol. That's about the only thing they got right, their liquor. "Might as well get this over with. Don't be a coward!" I ring the doorbell.

I don't look at her when I apologize, it's degrading enough already. I don't need to see the gloating, superior look in her eye while I say it. She can take it or leave it for all I care. Didn't matter to me. I look up, expecting to see her smirking, and instead find her looking at me like- No, that's not possible. But she is. Looking at me like I'm the sun, her own, personal sun. She looks so happy and beautiful, so beautiful. More so, even, then the day I saw her reading Peeta's letter. Before I can even blink she looks away, blushing, and steps aside to let me enter. I walk past her numbly, mind racing as I try to comprehend what I just saw.

"So you finally figured out how much of an ass you are, huh?" And just like that, I'm sure I imagined the look.

"Newsflash, sweetheart, you aren't exactly at the top of my priority list!" I snap back anger boiling quickly the way only Katniss can set it off. Same goes for her I think. When it comes to each other, the fuses are non-existent. More like trip-wire. One slight step too far and boom! Instantaneous. Her face flushes with instant anger now as mine cools off just as suddenly as it came on. "What did you want anyway?" I ask, not too unkindly, before she gets a chance to mouth back.

At this her face falls slightly making my heart pull a little. Ugh, pathetic, Mitch! You're heart pulling? Really? Get a grip!

"I was- well, I was sort of- I was lonely." She says, her eyes not meeting mine. Well, damn.

I reach out to her, lifting her chin and waiting until her eyes meet mine. "Katniss, sweetheart, you can come to me whenever you'd like. You know that." What? I'm not completely heartless.

She nods, her eyes never leaving mine, and then buries her face in my chest. After a second I wrap my arms around her and bury my face in her hair in return. The companionship, the break from solitude and our own, personal horrors, is a welcome relief. After a few minutes of this she pulls back a bit.

"Hey, Mitch?" She says, looking up at me with that look again, smile playing at her lips like she finds something amusing.

"Yeah, sweetheart?" I whisper, gazing right back into her beautiful, big grey eyes.

"You smell good." She states simply, and returns her face to my chest, inhaling deeply.

"Ha! Do I now? There's a first." I say planting a kiss on top of her head. "C'mon, sweetheart, let's go break open this bottle. I brought the fancy stuff, just for you." I say, leading her into the living room, grabbing two wine glasses on our way through the kitchen.

"Here's to you, sweetheart." I say pouring generous amounts of the sweet smelling, red liquor in both glasses. "Happy birthday."

"It is now." I hear her whisper under her breath, just before she takes a drink. Wonder what she means by that? That she's happy to have a drink? Company? Or is it because I'm here? Ha! There's no way it's the last one. Is there?

I turn the television on to Heavensbee's new singing show, Panem Idol, where three judges travel to all thirteen districts and the Capitol to find the best singers. Then throw them on television and have them compete against each other while the audience votes for who they thought was the best. Right now I'm cheering for this little District 7 girl who can sing like an angel.

"You should be on this show," I tell Katniss, "you'd blow them all out of the water."

She turns to me and smiles, "Heavensbee asked me to, I turned him down. I've had enough of the Capitol for one lifetime."

"I'd have to agree with you there, sweetheart. Besides, you never were good with the cameras. What did I tell you before your interview? Oh yeah, all the charm of a dead slug!" I say, dodging the fist she aims my way. She's laughing though, so I know I haven't hurt her feelings too badly.

"Oh, and what about you? All the charm of a possum and half as attractive!" She laughs back at me.

"Oh, you have no idea, sweetheart." I purr seductively. "Who do you think taught Odair everything he knew?"

At this she starts to giggle and curls into my side, sipping her wine. God, it's been so long since I've seen her let loose a little. And so long since I've had a nice time too. I can tell she's starting to feel the buzz of the alcohol a little, enough to relax. We sit there together for a while, my arm draped over the couch behind her. When she snuggles in closer to me, I drop my arm around her shoulder, tracing patterns along her arm with my thumb while she runs lines down my leg with her fingertips.

"Are you getting tired, sweetheart?" I ask, reluctant to leave. It's nice here.

"No, just more comfortable." She says.

"Oh. Okay."

We sit for a while longer, the show ends and goes to one of those infomercials talking about jewelry and what not. Katniss pops up her head and stares into my eyes with such intensity it makes me fidget a little. What's she doing?

"Katniss, what-" is all I get out before she leans forward and kisses me, once, twice, three times. I freeze unsure of what to do. She's just sitting there, examining me before she leans in and kisses me again. Jesus! What the hell?

"Katniss, the alcohol…" I sputter, but she's already shaking her head.

"It's not the alcohol. Haymitch." She whispers still staring deep into my eyes with a look of fear, hesitation, and hope in her eyes and I know it's not the drink that's bringing this on.

We sit there staring at each other for a moment longer and this time when she leans in to kiss me, I kiss her back. Hesitantly at first, and then with a passion I didn't know I had in me anymore. She gasps when I return her kiss, and I feel her moving to straddle me on the couch. Christ, what's going on here?

"K-katniss…" I stammer, pushing her away slightly. "Sweetheart, what…? I don't…" I don't really know what to say. I mean what can I say? Here I am, forty-two years old, kissing a nineteen year old! God I feel like a pervert. I am a pervert! I move her off of me, and face her. The look of pain and betrayal in her eyes drives a knife through my heart. I hate to see her in pain, but this can't be right! I mean, I'm her mentor for crying out loud!

"Katniss," I begin, reaching out to tuck a stray strand of hair behind her ear. "Sweetheart, this isn't right. I'm your mentor, you're just a-"

"Don't!" She says, and I can see the anger in her face, the defiant set of her shoulders. "Don't you dare say that I'm just a kid! I stopped being "just a kid" the moment Prim's name was called at the reaping. The games took that from me. They took everyone from me! But they gave me you. They gave me you and you've never left me. You never turned your back on me. You're the only one who has forgiven me time and time again. You're the only one who really cares about me." She has tears in her eyes when she's done speaking, trying so hard to hold them back. She's so strong. And she's right, she isn't a kid anymore. But I can't take advantage of her this way. It's not right. It'll be its own form of betrayal.

"Sweetheart, of course I care about you, I'll always care about you, but this isn't right!" I beg her again. "You don't really want this!"

"Don't tell me what I want!" She snaps back. "I've never been able to choose what I want! I was never given a choice, always chosen for! I was always told what to do! When is it my turn to choose?"

"Don't choose me because you feel like I'm the only option you have. There are other men out there, men your own age, men who would line up at your door to have a chance to date the Mockingjay."

"Don't you see? That's exactly it, they want the Mockingjay. They want the person the Capitol and Coin turned me into. They don't want me, the broken shell of a Mockingjay the rebellion wrung out and left behind." She whispers.

Suddenly her head snaps up, "That's it, isn't it? You don't want me either." She says, pain in her eyes. "Of course you don't, why would you? I'm a mess. I'm a crazy mess that would just bring you down. I'm so stupid. Why would you want me?" She jumps off the couch and runs to the kitchen, hiding her tears from me.

Dammit! Silly girl! Only Katniss can turn this around on herself! Always blaming herself. So goddamn selfish! I follow her to the kitchen and make her face me.

"Katniss, of course I want you, sweetheart. How could I not want you? You're an amazing, strong young woman. I mean sure, you can be a big pain in the ass sometimes," I concede with a smile, "but for the most part you're pretty okay. You're the only one I have too you know." I say drawing her into my arms.

"But how could you want me?" I say in disbelief. "I'm just an old drunk who can't tell up from down half the time. What can I give you?"

"You aren't just a drunk. And you're not old!" She says into my chest. "You're there for me, Haymitch, whenever I need you. I know you like to hide behind your sarcasm and your liquor, but you are more than that. I know you. You and me, we're alike, we understand each other. We're the only ones who do. And I… I love you."

That stops me short. I draw away from her and lift her chin up, searching her eyes, and I can see that it's not the booze that's making her say this, though it's probably given her the courage to. But she really believes that she loves me. I wasn't prepared for what I saw in her eyes. The openness of them knocked the breath out of me.