She hesitated at the door. She didn't know why, but something made her stop. She was nervous, not knowing what to do. Should she knock? Ring the doorbell that was guaranteed not to work? She swallowed, her posture retaining its usual balance. She leant forward to see if she could move the doorknob. It swung open. Typical Haymitch. He couldn't even lock his own door.
'Ah, look who it is.' He said, strolling towards her, the humorous grin she couldn't resist displayed on his face.
'Nice to see you too Haymitch.'
She carried her bags to a small cupboard, and stored them away safely, Haymitch pursuing her.
'You know, you could've just left them at the door sweetheart.'
'It's better organisation and it's tidier.' She chided 'I see you haven't been cleaning at all. It's ridiculously messy and you have clothes, cutlery, knives...strewn over the floor. And bottles! I knew you wouldn't stay sober for much longer.'
'You're lecturing me like an old women. You just came into my house and already you start to criticise the hospitality! And as much as I stayed sober, you didn't stay natural.' He retaliated, gesturing to her wig.
'At least I have less makeup on. But liquor...whiskey...wine bottles. I should think you'd have drunk all the alcohol in the world by now!'
'Effie we're doing all this bickering and yet you haven't even said hello to me.' He said back in a flattering tone.
She paused, looking to him and the scruffy floor beneath them. She embraced him slowly, replying back to him as she withdrew to stare him in the eye. 'Hello.'
Seconds passed.
'Have you heard any news of...' He said, trailing off at the end, but she knew what he meant.
'The Capitol is in ruins. It's not doing very good. Resources are low and the streets have finally been cleaned of dead corpses.'
He swallowed, his eyes looking away.
'Katniss and Peeta are staying together.' She said, and Haymitch looked at her again, a surprising yet smug look on his face, a small smile appearing.
'Gale's in District 2. Haven't heard anything at all. Katniss is quite disappointed, but she has Peeta.'
'Who do you have?' He asked unexpectedly.
'I-' she looked down, blinking her eyes while replying.
'I don't have anyone. Not really.'
'Wrong. You have Katniss and Peeta and me.'
Her heart jumped when he said 'me.' He smiled down at her, eyes twinkling.
'Well, we are still a team.' She said.
'Always a team.' He replied.
She looked back down again, a serious look on her face.
'We really don't know what to do. Society has led us nowhere. I really don't know what the future will bring.'
'We don't need to worry about the future. We only need to think of now. Live in the moment. All that stuff.' He explained.
'I always thought you were wise. But never inspirational.'
'I can be a lot of things you never thought I could be.'
'I'm sure you can.' She said, her tone flattering.
The day went by with as much normality as any quiet and peaceful day was.
All the tapes of the Games had been destroyed and everything to do with it was never talked of, never implied of.
Katniss and Peeta joined them in that afternoon. They all sat and talked, wine pouring from bottle to glass (mostly from Haymitch's). It was just like how it used to be, being the escort, being the mentor, being the tributes, being a team, albeit the pressure of the terrible Games lifted from their shoulders.
The humour, the sarcasm and the relentless banter never left Haymitch's personality. She admired it-no him-so greatly, that even after all the change, all the fighting, the rebellions, the destruction...he was the same person. He had always been the same person, frozen, unchanging. She loved it-loved him.
When Katniss and Peeta left, it was quiet, it was peaceful, and they sat there, until Haymitch drank the rest of his wine, and stood up, walking toward her, his arm extended, his eyes shining.
'I need a distraction sweetheart.' he drawled.
'From what?' She said, rising from the chair to take his hand.
'Everything.' He whispered, his face inches from hers.
'Am I your distraction?' She asked.
'The best one.' He said, twirling her around.
'Has anyone told you how beautiful you are?'
'You're the first, and you've said it so many times already.'
'I'm honoured.'
He kept her close, his scruffy beard close to her chin, and she could smell him, the smell of alcohol, intoxication, but also a sweetness she couldn't name. He smelled like Haymitch, he smelled like his humour, his sarcasm, his aptitude of drinking entire bottles in one night.
'I've loved you for a long time.' She whispered, her hands to his shoulders. They slow-danced around, his heartbeat loud enough to hear.
'I doubt you've loved me as much as I've loved you.' He said, looking down at her, his eyes intense.
'There were times when I detested you Haymitch Abernathy. There were times when I couldn't stand you, when I hated you. There were other times when I appreciated you, loved you enough to keep going. But then they're are the times, most frequently...when I hate you as much as I love you.'
'Pretty much sums our relationship up.'
He said, jokingly, referring back to their conversation in District 13.
Her heart was against his chest, his lips pressed to her neck, and she was falling for his eyes, but they didn't know her yet. She only started to realise that she had never properly looked at his eyes, he had never looked at hers; it was like they could finally fully see each other, rather than how they used to see, as if through a window that made everything a blur.
'Stay with me.' He said, his voice gravelly, but smooth.
She didn't say anything, just stared at him as if he was speaking another language.
'Effie Trinket...stay with me. Forever. The Capitol is hardly going to resurrect itself soon. You'd be better off staying with me Effie. Stay close to me. I love you. Stay. You need-'
She put her fingers to his lips, silencing him.
'I'd love to stay. Forever.' She whispered.
He twirled her once more, all seriousness from him gone.
He looked at her, smiling.
He picked up the wine bottle from the (mahogany) table beside them.
'I told you, I like you better without all that makeup.'
And he pulled her wig off, letting her natural blonde curls spill over her shoulders once more.
She stared at him for only a second more, when she threw the bottle out of his hands, the glass and liquid smashing on the floor, but she didn't care. As the sound of broken glass came, she threw herself into his arms, her hair falling around her shoulders in waves.
'I like you better sober.' She fired back.
She pulled him towards her, kissing him with as much force as she could. The world may have been changed, may have been engaged in war, may have caused peril; but the spark had burned brighter than ever, and they themselves hadn't changed. And Haymitch was the only remaining thing in the world. The only remaining thing in her world.
