A/N: Hi everyone! Well, I've been a good author and updated relatively quickly this time :) I don't think I have anything to say so on with chapter 14!
"Tell him yourself."
I stand by the door, my mouth agape and quickly shake my head trying to comprehend why Haymitch Abernathy is stood outside my door. Mixes of emotions come with seeing him again, predominantly confusion but also anger and a small amount of happiness. I want to hit him for being able to have such an unintentionally strong hold on me.
"Haymitch… Wh-what are you doing here?" I stutter and try to pull myself together as quickly as possible.
"I told Plutarch Heavensbee you let me stay at yours." He says this in the most offhanded way possible and I want to hit him again.
He makes a move for the door but I block his way. "No, I asked 'what are you doing here'?" I attempt to sound as stern as possible and put my hands on my hips.
"I'm here on business, sweetheart. Not that it's any of yours." He leans on the door frame forcing me to back up a few steps.
"Oh, okay," I laugh bitterly trying to keep my composure "you expect to just turn up at my apartment without a word of warning, not tell me why you're actually here and me to welcome you with open arms? Goodbye." I make a move to shut the door but he stops it with his foot.
"I can't exactly tell you that right now, princess. I will later."
I laugh again. "I could count the number of times you have said that and not actually told me on one hand-If I was holding a calculator. I'm sorry but you can't come in."
"Well sweetheart," he steps even closer, his face a dangerous amount of inches from mine. "What you don't realise is that I'm already in."
I look around and see that he is right. All the time I have been walking backwards as he has forwards.
"I think the words you're searching for are 'welcome to my home, Haymitch. Help yourself to my alcohol.'"
I scowl and purse my lips as his suitcase hits the floor with a dull semi-permanent thud. The next few days are going to be very interesting.
"Do you think parmentier or dauphinois potatoes would go better with this?" I indicate the peppercorn sauce I am currently stirring in the hope that soon it will look a little bit less like something Haymitch would throw up.
"Princess, do you really think I know what either of those are?" Haymitch sits up on the sofa and looks at me like I came down in the last shower. "They're just potatoes."
I roll my eyes. "Actually they're very different. Besides, surely you've eaten at enough fine establishments to know the difference." I quickly taste the sauce and find that it doesn't taste quite as horrific as it looks.
Haymitch snorts and gets up from where he is sat. "Yeah but I can't remember what happened last night let alone the last time I went to some la-di-da Capitol restaurant." He saunters over to the kitchen, a glass of whisky dangling limply in his hand. I swear, if he breaks my best crystal I shall-
"Princess, you're doing it wrong." I jump when Haymitch whispers in my ear from behind me, alcohol prominent on his breath.
"What exactly am I doing wrong?" I ask, feeling a blush creeping onto my cheeks at being so close to him. Pull yourself together Effie, I scold myself and shake my head.
"If you keep stirring it, it won't cook." He states matter of factly and hooks his arms through the gap between my elbows and waist, prying the spoon from my hands.
Somewhere along the way his hand finds mine. I'm not sure if it was an accident or he intended to but since neither he nor I let go, I have to presume the latter. I rather enjoy holding his hand, the way mine just fits perfectly inside of his… Dear lord, what is wrong with me?
I just manage to turn around in the small amount of space to face him, my body dangerously close to his. It is not until I look into his grey eyes that I realise just how much I have missed him.
He moves forward a few inches as if to kiss me. I move back a little, not because I don't want to kiss him – of course I do, but the last time we let one small kiss get out of hand, we took a huge and incredibly stupid risk. One I don't think should be reprised.
My hands grip the work surface behind me, or at least I assume it's the work surface until I feel a searing pain run across the entirety of my left wrist.
I immediately withdraw my hand and look round to see that I was in fact, leaning on the cooker. I look back to Haymitch and see that he is suppressing a laugh. Immediately anger begins to boil up inside me.
"Don't you dare laugh Abernathy! I mean it, this damn well hurts!" I slap him hard in the arm with my right hand with as much strength as I can muster.
"Oh come on, it's not that bad. Surely not painful enough for her royal highness to use such foul language." He receives a death glare.
"Do something!" I shout after a silence, suddenly feeling incredibly impatient.
"What do you want me to do?" he asks as if it is the most unreasonable thing in the world. I brush it off anyway as I begin to feel incredibly whiney.
"I don't know… find a bandage or something…"
"I don't think I need to point this out but we are in your apartment."
"No you didn't." I mumble as I lead him to a cupboard in one of the bathrooms which holds a few simple medical supplies. I move to open the cupboard but Haymitch stops me with his arm.
"Go and sit down somewhere and I'll bring this stuff through." I'm about to protest but when he gives me a look I oblige.
I move out of the room and go to sit at one of the chairs around the dining table. I remove my hand cautiously from my wrist and cringe when I examine the long thin blister beginning to take shape and swell. Haymitch saunters in a few minutes later and I'm about to scold him for punctuality but decide against it as he has shown me nothing but kindness as of yet.
He sits silently in front of me and grins when he sees the rather unattractive blister on my wrist.
"Why are you smiling?" I ask coldly.
"I'm smiling because you're making a fuss over nothing." He makes a grab for my hand but I instantly snatch it away and he sighs deeply.
"Sweetheart, I can't do anything if you don't give me your hand." I still don't move and he goes to stand up and leave.
"Oh Effie, what on earth have you done?" I had limped into the living room sheepishly after grazing my knee in the back garden that day.
"I was-I was trying to catch a butterfly but it went across the fence so I tried to climb up." I sniffled trying to cover the grass stain on the left side of the white satin. It didn't work.
"I have told you before that climbing about is not the way a young lady should ac- What have you done?" Mothers tone had instantly harshened as she prised my hand roughly away from the ruined dress. I braced myself for the shouted lecture on how much she hated my adventurous side and she wished I would just stay inside and read a book like 'normal' girls my age.
She would take me down to the bathroom and place a small square of iodine on the affected area that stung like nothing I've ever felt before and left your skin yellow for the next five days. She would then send me to bed with a smacked behind and no dinner.
Whenever I hurt myself I would look for my father who would cover the wound with a delicate cotton bandage and kiss the top of it gently. He would then carry me around on his shoulders for the remainder of the day much to my mother's disdain who thought he was babying me and I needed to face the fact that life isn't always fair. It was safe to say that I preferred my father.
This time I make a grab for Haymitch's hand, pulling him back to his seat. "I'm sorry, it just hurts."
He takes my hand carefully in his and holds a cold, damp wash cloth to my wrist for a few minutes, apologising when I wince.
"So why are you here Haymitch?" I ask after a few minutes spent in silence.
"I told you, I'm here on business." He doesn't look up from the bandage he is carefully wrapping around my wrist and eventually ties a tight knot at the end.
"What kind of business?" I ask as I stand up from my chair and push it back under the table.
"Business with Plutarch Heavensbee ," He does the same and stands in front of me "I help him with the Quarter Quell and he gives me free alcohol."
I stop him when he tries to walk out of the room. "You're lying. There is no way in hell that you would help design a Hunger Games. I may be from the Capitol but I'm not stupid."
He shakes his head obviously not knowing what to say.
"Whatever you and Plutarch are doing, whatever you're planning, I want in."
"You can't know what we're doing Effie."
I sigh audibly, my patience wearing thin. "Why not?"
He swears under his breath before taking my face in his hands and kissing me. I don't expect it and stumble back a little but it is over as soon as it began and I find I am stood alone in the middle of the room, Haymitch having left moments before. Is that why he won't tell me? Because he has some unspoken feelings for me?
As I bring my fingertips to my lips, I decide that I have to find out what he and Plutarch are up to, even if it kills me.
A/N: Ohhh yay! Hayffie's back guys! Well I'm dying to know what you all thought so please feel free to leave a review on your way out :) Look out for the next chapter soon!
~H x