Effie's brain registered the elevator's chime and she managed to slid off Haymitch's lap before Brutus strolled into the room, his heavy sport bag tossed over his shoulder.

The whole thing, she guessed, still looked damning. Haymitch's left hand was still on the back of her thigh if nothing else and she must have looked disheveled.

Brutus' eyebrows shot up when he spotted the stranger bare-chested in the kitchen and his lips stretched into an amused smile.

Haymitch, on the other hand,wasn't amused at all.

The moment he saw Brutus, he stood up, angling his body so it was slightly in front of hers – shielding her, her mind supplied a second before irritation kicked in – and he stared at him so rudely that Effie wanted to whack his shoulder. She had never had violent urges before she had met him and she briefly wondered if he was rubbing on her the wrong way.

Under Haymitch's intense scrutiny, Brutus tensed, his amusement quickly fading into a dangerous sort of calm, quite similar to Haymitch's own demeanor. The two men assessed each other, clearly trying to evaluate the threat.

Effie rolled her eyes at all this macho posturing and slipped from behind Haymitch to reach for the clutch she had discarded the previous night and Lavinia had yet to place back in her walk-in closet. She grabbed her phone and unlocked it, tossing both men an annoyed look. She had a couple of messages but nothing that seemed urgent. "When you are done deciding which one of you is the most manly, I will make the proper introductions."

Brutus burst out laughing and Haymitch immediately relaxed, probably because as frightening as Brutus could look sometimes – he was built like a gorilla – he really was a teddy bear underneath and it showed.

"Ex-military?" Haymitch asked with a touch of… something in his tone.

Brutus immediately straightened up as if he was standing at attention. "Yes, sir." Effie lifted a surprised eyebrow because she had never heard Brutus call anyone sir, not even Seneca – who she knew to be one of his customers – and certainly not with that degree of instant respect. Haymitch didn't seem fazed by it, not even when Brutus flashed him a big grin. "Semper Fi."

Effie crossed her arms and watched, confused for a second until she remembered that the Latin phrase was supposed to be the Marines' motto. Or something similar. She didn't claim to be an expert in their military.

"De Oppresso Liber." Haymitch replied as if it was a code, his voice dripping with bitter irony.

Brutus let out an impressed whistle, his clear eyes darting to the scar on Haymitch's side and back up to his face. "Green beret?"

What an outrageous choice of hat wear, she mused, still watching as Haymitch winced.

"Yeah." he nodded, finally outstretching a hand. "Retired."

Brutus glanced at the heavy relatively fresh scar tissues on Haymitch's stomach again – and, at the way Haymitch looked around, she knew he was looking for his shirt and she almost fetched it for him – but politely didn't make the obvious connection out loud. He shook Haymitch's hand.

"I did two tours. Made it to First Lieutenant and quitted." Brutus explained. "I'm a private trainer now. It pays better."

"Haymitch." he offered in return.

He didn't give a rank, Effie noticed, not that it seemed to matter because just at the way he stood and at the way Brutus automatically seemed to defer, it seemed the two men had silently established between themselves that Haymitch was the highest ranking officer in the room.

She hadn't thought to ask and now she was a little curious about that.

She was also a little turned on by it.

"Are you joining us today?" Brutus asked, clearly excited by the prospect. He finally turned to acknowledge Effie's presence. She tilted her head to the side, not quite pleased with his lapse in manners given the huge paycheck she signed at the end of every week.

Haymitch made a strangled noise that might have meant no but Effie hadn't liked being ignored while they played soldiers and she didn't like the thought of Haymitch leaving just yet either. "Why not?"

"I ain't really…" Haymitch winced, his hand automatically reaching for his wounded side…

"We can tailor the exercises to your needs." Brutus cut him off, in the professional tone Effie usually liked so much. She paid him to shout at her like a sergeant instructor so she wouldn't slack and keep exercising but she also appreciated it when he took the time to explain what the exercises were for and gave her a pep talk when she was so exhausted she didn't think she could do more. Brutus had been a great help after the sleeping pills problem and he was trustworthy, which was why she didn't mind him seeing Haymitch.

Every objection Haymitch raised was swiped away. Brutus had a spare pair of sweatpants in his duffle bag and sneakers that would probably fit and would not take no for an answer.

Effie let it happen despite her soulmates' increasingly desperate glances. She figured if he really wanted to go, Haymitch would go and if he really didn't want to exercise, he would simply not do it. She had never pegged him as someone who could be bullied into something.

His apprehension, mostly, seemed to have to do with his injury. Brutus asked questions about it in a professional tone on their way over to the room she had converted into a gym of sort – and she didn't miss Haymitch's incredulous look when he stepped inside, she supposed he thought it to be another eccentricity of hers – and by the time they were ready to start, Effie knew more about the wound than she had five minutes earlier. Not about the circumstances. He had told her as much about the circumstances as he could.

Can tell you guts are fucking slippery and disgusting and I ran like hell to jump off a fucking cliff and into a fucking chopper thinking I was gonna drop them and trip on my own fucking entrails and die there and it would be the most fucking stupid death of all time.

What she learned was how many surgeries he had gone through, how long it had taken for him to be up and about again and how his doctor had encouraged him to find a physical activity but he hadn't bothered. Brutus was easy to talk to and knew how to ask questions without judging – hell, the number of times he had been forced to ask her how she felt during her withdrawals from sleeping pills alone; he had pushed her to the point of throwing up sometimes.

"I need pictures before we start." she cut in when she sensed Brutus shift into drill instructor mode. She didn't want him to bark instructions just yet.

"Oh, yes. Sure." he said. "With me or…"

"One with you and then you can take a few while I pretend to work out." she decided.

Haymitch watched, arms crossed and leaning against the wall, as she and Brutus took selfies and went over the well-rehearsed routine of making it look like she had been working on different machines and exercises. She would post them as a story later.

Brutus must have caught Haymitch's slightly judgmental look because he shrugged. "Makes good publicity. She tags me, I get new customers."

At the lost look on his face, she guessed Haymitch had no idea what a tag was. She cut in before he could say something rude. "Let's start."

Brutus had her and Haymitch go through different exercises. Haymitch's, she couldn't help but notice, were lighter and spared his middle section as much as possible. Brutus shouted at them to be quicker, to go higher or deeper, to push themselves… A session usually lasted an hour and a half. After only forty minutes, Haymitch collapsed on his back, completely out of breath, clearly wiped and pressing a hand against his side.

Effie immediately stopped the core building exercise and intended to rush over but Brutus waved her off and yelled at her to keep going.

His voice softened to something far more natural when he towered over Haymitch's sprawled form though. "Not bad for a first day, sir."

"Ain't ever doing that again…" Haymitch grumbled.

"Sure, you are." Brutus countered. Effie watched, keeping her breathing regular and ignoring the throbbing pain in her own limbs, as her coach grabbed Haymitch's ankle and forced his leg toward his chest. He had done it for Effie a few times when she couldn't move anymore, it was meant to stretch the muscles. "You join us again, we're gonna have you back in shape in no time." He seemed to realize though that this was up to Effie more than Haymitch and that he was intruding on private matters because he amended. "Hell, even if you don't… Give me a call I'll give you a good discount. Us vets have to stick together, right?" Haymitch seemed to have more than a chosen words for that last comment but one look at Effie and he forcefully held his tongue. "Keep stretching."

Brutus kept an eye on him while he finished stretching all the while screaming at her that she was slacking today. She was only able to focus once Haymitch had left to limp to her bedroom for a shower though.

The rest of the session was hell, as it always was but it also made her feel good because she knew her figure would look great the next week on the catwalk.

"Please, do not tell Seneca about Haymitch." she warned Brutus in a low voice when she walked him back to the elevator. "He does not know I met someone yet and I like it better that way."

Brutus nodded with a small frown, as if a little offended she thought he would gossip about her. He knew about the importance of keeping certain things secret, though. He was going out with one of her model friends and Valeria liked to keep her private life close to her chest. They hadn't gone public yet either.

He hesitated a second before stepping in the elevator and then turned back, making a face. "Not my place to say and he seems like a good guy… But green berets mean special ops. And the guys in special ops… They're not the best adjusted people. Be careful."

The warning might have been appreciated because it was heartfelt if Haymitch hadn't been so insecure about his own mental stability. Was this what he had to compose with? Were people always reacting that way because he had been part of whatever classified stuff it was special ops were doing? She didn't imagine the prejudice would be helping his self-worth.

"Haymitch is not dangerous." she growled, glancing over her shoulder to make sure he wasn't about to overhear a conversation that could be misinterpreted.

Brutus lifted both hands in a defensive gesture. "The injury's bad. I mean really bad. Whatever happened, it can't have been pretty. It's bound to have left… issues. PTSD's a serious thing, Effie, that's all I'm saying."

She pursed her lips and watched him go, not quite pleased with him for assuming. With her luck, she fully expected Haymitch to be lurking nearby but she found him still in the shower, propped against the wall, letting the water stream down on him.

"Are you alright?" she asked, slightly worried. She wasn't getting anything through the bond but that didn't mean…

"Fine." He snorted. "So... That wasn't pathetic at all."

She supposed he meant how quickly he had been forced to give up. She slipped the drenched sport bra over her head and got rid of her pants and underwear before joining him inside the stall. His arms immediately wrapped around her.

"You will get your strength back." she promised, dropping a kiss over his heart.

"I ain't really the kind of person who exercises." he admitted.

"Some exercise is healthy." she argued. "Perhaps you could join me for a session or two a week. It might help with your recovery. Isn't that what your doctor recommended?"

That was what he had told Brutus.

He sighed and knocked his head against the wall once. "He ain't a bad trainer."

"He is the best on the market right now." she commented, dropping another kiss closer to his neck. "Are you very tired?"

"Is your housekeeper still around?" he countered, letting his left hand drop to her ass.

"She is not going to barge in the shower, Haymitch." She nibbled on his neck, traced a burning path from his hip to his groin with her fingertip…

He shook his head. "Can't lift you up."

"Well, I will simply have to do all the work then…" she teased.

When she fell to her knees in front of him, she thought his eyes would pop right out of his head. She hid her smile in his inner thigh, kissing and nibbling in turn…

She made a show for him.

Men always liked a good show when women did this.

"You're so perfect…" he muttered, reaching for her hair. He couldn't find a good grip because they were braided so he settled for placing his hand at the back of her head, nudging her closer. "So fucking perfect…"

She beamed at the endearment. Perfect was what she had strived for all her life.

It didn't take long for him to come, she hadn't expected it would. She wasn't sure how she ended up pinned against the shower wall with his hand between her legs. She didn't think she could come on fingers right then, she needed more, but his own desire, the peaceful feeling of his afterglow, were saturating the bond and, all in all, it was enough to make her reach orgasm.

She slumped against him and he wrapped his arms around her again, holding her up, gently stroking the back of her nape.

She let out a round of exhausted chuckles. "You know… I read somewhere that sex was addictive. The more you have it, the more you want it."

"And we're both addicts." he reminded her, not sounding particularly concerned. Probably because it wasn't an addiction he minded.

"I have been having more sex since we met than in the last six months." she confessed, rubbing her nose against his shoulder, dropping a kiss against a bite mark she must have left at some point.

He snorted. "Yeah, well… You're the first I had in over a year so… I've got you beaten here, sweetheart." Over a year?, she wanted to exclaim but she contained it because she didn't want him to think she was mocking him. He must have sensed her surprise anyway because he snorted again. "Long deployment. Then, the medical stuff…"

She drew her head back so she could watch him. His grey eyes were guarded but not quite hostile.

What she wanted to do was drag him back into her bed and keep him there by any mean necessary just so he wouldn't go and get himself in dangerous situations again. Just so he wouldn't get hurt again. Just so she could keep on making him groan her name with absolute worship.

His lips stretched into a smirk, either because it was written plainly on her face or because the bond had betrayed her yet again. The amusement slowly faded and he turned a little more serious. "You want me to look into ways of controlling that fucking soulmate thing while you do your work thing today?"

The mix of feelings she got through the 'fucking soulmate thing' told her he was both reluctant and intrigued at the possibility of, at least, dulling the bond so it wouldn't be so… sharp.

"It settled only last night…" she tempered. Perhaps she had been hasty earlier, simply irritated by the fact she couldn't hide anything from him. Some honesty wasn't that bad, surely? She simply wasn't used to… She licked her lips and dropped her gaze, staring at his Adam's apple. "I do not like being an open book." she admitted. "It is not that I am particularly deceitful but…"

"You like your privacy." He shrugged. "Can't say I like you poking in my head either."

"I am not poking in your head." she huffed with a pout and then amended. "I am not poking on purpose. And you… How am I supposed to please you, to be what you want if you can tell every time I have to adjust my behavior or pretend to like something or…"

His hand carefully cradled her chin and tilted her head up. The pad of his thumb ran across her bottom lip. "I want you. Don't want you adjusting anything or pretending to like anything." He frowned but strengthened his grip a little when she tried to avert her eyes. "Who put that sort of shit in your head, princess? Hell, I like when you please me…" He flashed her a leering smile. "Doesn't mean I need you to force yourself to do it or whatever shit you're thinking you've gotta do."

She pursed her lips, staring at his nose rather than his eyes. "Men get bored and then men cheat. We have to keep them interested."

His frown deepened. His thumb gently ran along her jaw. "Says who?" She didn't answer. She wasn't even sure anymore. Her mother? Cosmo? Every TV show, movie and book under the sun? She had been raised thinking like that, that if she wanted to keep a man, she needed to be the most beautiful, the sexiest, the most perfect and all the while maintaining a lady's behavior in public. She needed to be the perfect slut in his bed and the perfect wife on his arm. Haymitch let out a small sigh. "Shitty relationships you had. Fuck if that photographer guy didn't make a number on you…"

She felt a flash of simmering wrath through the bond but he didn't let it show on his face.

"Stelan did not do anything wrong." she argued but her voice sounded slightly feeble.

"Except seduce a teenager." he retorted, planting a kiss on her forehead.

"I was willing." she insisted. Nobody had ever found anything to say about that particular relationship – except her mother when they had officially broken off because Stelan had still been more famous than her at that point and too wealthy not to be a suitable potential husband. Nobody had ever hinted it was wrong and she didn't understand why Haymitch was so hung up on it. Fashion was a different world, normal rules didn't apply. People hook up, some of those people were sometimes young… Why, it wasn't just fashion. She had been born and raised in a world of beauty pageants and in beauty pageants it wasn't unusual to play the seduction card with judges no matter your age – or their ages. It was something she had applied to every part of her life…

You had to keep on top, you had to be the one everyone wanted to sleep with… That was how you kept yourself relevant, by remaining desired, by making them want you.

And that had never been as true as it was right then, when she was at risk of losing her contract because people didn't desire her any longer.

"Don't need you pretending to want things you don't, alright?" Haymitch said firmly. "You don't do that with me." She was starting to panic a little because she wasn't certain what he wanted from her. Who would object to their significant other being willing to step out of their comfort zone to please them? Who would object to their significant other being willing to become exactly who they wanted in a romantic partner? The shower stall felt too small all of a sudden and Haymitch's embrace felt suffocating rather than comforting. He stepped back, giving her space without her having to ask. His grey eyes were still too much to be borne. "You're my soulmate, sweetheart. That's as perfect as it gets. Don't need more than you being you. We're good?"

There were other things he wanted to add, she confusedly sensed, like how he was already not worthy of her or how she deserved someone better so she really shouldn't try to make herself something else for him because he hadn't thought he would even get someone as good as her… She wasn't in any state of hearing it. She nodded and grabbed a towel from the rack, escaping the small space. "I need to get ready. I have to be at the fitting soon."

"Need a ride?" he offered. "I've got my car, I can drop you off."

For a second, she was tempted to accept, if only because the perspective of being apart was still a daunting one. But what had just been said in that shower felt important and heavy and slightly unwelcomed and she needed to process it. Because beneath it all, it felt like a negative comment on her life choices.

So she refused the offer and she simply nodded when he poked his head back in the bathroom once he was dressed and ready to go. He told her to call him, sounding perfectly detached but feeling absolutely uncertain – she knew because she felt his uncertainty down to her bones – and she said she would see him later even though they hadn't made any real plans.

She wasn't sure she wanted to make any, right then.

Did you like it? Do you think they will make up quickly? Are you still interested in this story? Let me know!