Four
She found him on the rooftop of their Penthouse suite in the wee hours of the morning and stood silently beside him. He looked like a wreck and Effie told him as much. He hadn't slept in days; he had to divide his time between coordinating for sponsors with the other Districts and sneaking off to meet Plutarch to discuss the plan they had.
There was Effie, of course. He had to keep her off his back and not rouse her suspicion but he thought it was futile. Contrary to what people generally believed, Effie wasn't entirely stupid. She realized something was amiss but had no idea how to get through to Haymitch for an explanation.
"You're leaving," she said softly. The air was cold around them and she pulled her robes tighter against her body.
Throwing his head back and looking up at the clear dark sky, Haymitch inhaled sharply. He had no idea how she knew or what she suspected but it didn't matter anymore. Effie wasn't going to inform anyone of her suspicion. If she wanted to, Haymitch knew she would have done so a long time ago, so he nodded his answer.
The smoothness of her palm as it slid into his hand was such a foreign feeling that he looked at their linked hand and then up at her questioningly. She was looking down on the streets below pensively but turned her head towards him when she felt his gaze on her.
"Come to bed. You need to sleep. You need rest – you won't be any good to them if you're so exhausted," she said simply before softly tugging his hand and leading him down from the rooftop back towards the Penthouse.
Haymitch made no protest as he followed her. He kept glancing down at their hands as though he found the concept of someone even holding on to his hand so puzzling. Before he even realized it, he was in the middle of her room and the woman standing before him was looking slightly nervous.
"We don't have to – I know the last time didn't end up well. I didn't bring you here to… you know. We'll just sleep," she said finally.
"Okay," he replied. He could deal with that. It wasn't as if he wasn't exhausted enough to be doing anything else.
Haymitch pulled the covers up, slid in and laid his head on the pillow with a small sigh. The pillow smells like her, he thought to himself as he inhaled the fruity scent. After a while, he felt the bed dip on the other side and turned around just in time to see a flash of blonde hair before Effie switch off the bed side lamp.
"Goodnight, Haymitch," she said softly, turning sideways with her back facing him.
They remained that way for some time with him on his back and her on her sides; her hands tucked under her head. He couldn't sleep. For some unexplainable reason, his exhaustion had left him and he was so acutely aware of the woman beside him. Haymitch could tell that she was still awake just by her breathing.
He turned sideways to face her and watched her silhouette in the dark room - watched as her body rose and fell with each breath she took and the mess of hair splayed on her pillow. He was overwhelmed by the desire to know how she looked like now in the wee hours of the morning, in her dark bedroom hidden away from the prying eyes of the world.
His hand hovered above her head and slowly he brought it down to stroke her hair. It felt so soft and he twirled a strand of her shoulder length hair around his index finger. He saw her stiffened but remained unmoving otherwise. Almost naturally, he ran his hand from her hair to her shoulder, down her arms and traced the swell of her hip before bringing it up again to her shoulder. He gently pushed the strap of her nightgown off and placed a kiss on her bare shoulder.
She shuddered at the feel of his lips on her skin and made to turn around but his hand had travelled down to intertwine his fingers with hers and kissed her just beneath her earlobe.
He peppered kisses to her neck and shoulder, his hands running up and down her thigh causing the hem of her night gown to hike up exposing more of her skin to him. She tilted her head to the side so she could kiss him and their tongues explored each other for the first time without her tears messing it up.
His hand abandoned her thigh to snake down the front of her stomach and into her undergarments. He thumbed her clit and slowly inserted a finger in. Effie moaned and reached back to caress his cheeks, motivating him to increase the speed in which his finger was pumping into her.
Haymitch pressed his erection against the butt of her cheeks and began to dry hump into her at the same speed that his finger was working her to the edge. Effie's breathing was becoming more labored and when she came, her eyes were closed with her mouth parted slightly, his name falling from her lips. He kissed her, swallowing the soft, "Haymitch" she just whispered again.
Pulling her night gown up to her waist, he pulled her undergarments down and let her kick it off before flinging it carelessly across the room. Her back was still to him when he spread her legs and slowly, lowered himself into her from behind, propping himself on his elbows to support himself. His hand cupped one of her breasts and massaged it gently through her night dress, earning a moan from Effie.
Unlike the previous two occasions, sex with Effie that night wasn't marred by anger or the need to keep her silent nor was it influenced by alcohol. Sex that night felt like love-making and yet, it felt so tragically sad. He probably wouldn't be seeing her again for a long time, if not ever, depending on whether or not he survived the war. The arena would have exploded by the next day and they would all be enroute to District Thirteen if everythingwent according to plan and Effie… Well, she would not be part of that story. Their story was meant to end tonight – with her in the Capitol.
He buried his face in the crook of her neck, inhaling her scent. He bit her none too gently as he tried to muffle the sounds he was making when he finally reached his peaked.
"You must be beautiful," he whispered, sinking back onto her soft pillow, trying to catch his breath.
"Come back and you can see how I look like and you can judge for yourself. Come back safe, Haymitch."
He had not meant to say it out loud. Her voice hitched when she asked that he returned safe and fearing that she might break into one her emotional tears again, he pulled her close and pressed her face against his neck. When he finally fell asleep, long after she had, it was with her hand wrapped around his mid-section, her warm breath against his skin and a whispered goodbye for the woman he was about to leave behind.
She was gone when he woke up the next day, no doubt, completing some task she had on her schedule and he never saw her again until the Rebellion was in full swing.
& one more to go!
