Requested by towmondlerliveson: Could you write about Haymitch being in Twelve and suddenly missing Effie's cheerfulness and her constant talking because he feels really lonely for "Between Lives"? And maybe you could add an awkward phone call to the mix. ;) Thank you! :-*

Dealing with Loneliness
(30 years old)

His liquor had run dry that morning which would explain the reason Haymitch was pacing his house like a mad man.

When he drank, he shut everyone and everything out, and he was only starting to realise just how quiet the house was, how alone and lonely he felt now that he was painfully sober. It was the same dreadful feeling months after his family's death and he had no one around him.

He hated this feeling. It was why he drank.

Haymitch continued wearing the carpet out, pacing like a caged tiger.

The loneliness cloaked him like a blanket, eating away at him like lice on skin. Haymitch peered out of the window and perhaps it was just his rotten luck. He saw Aspen walking down the street with his daughter sitting on his shoulder, little fingers gripping her father's hair. He was whistling a tune that was so achingly familiar to him.

Throw your arms around me, give my heart ease,
Give my heart ease, dear, give my heart ease,
Throw your arms around me, give my heart ease.

Down In the Valley, he remembered. It was a song they used to sing as kids.

Haymitch shut his eyes, picturing the two ten year old boys with their arms around each other's shoulder, skipping through the district, singing. He saw young Hazelle with a finger in each ear, cringing at their voices but smiling at her friends still.

He could open that window and call out to Aspen. He could invite him in and they could… He sighed, his breath fogging the window. He didn't know what they could do or what they could talk about. Haymitch hadn't spoken to him since he stormed out of the Everdeen's house after Aspen tried to get him to make that promise.

They weren't friends anymore. Not by a long shot.

His only reliable companion it would seem was this biting loneliness.

Haymitch drew back from the window and slumped on his armchair. He kicked the empty bottle away, the sight of it empty and useless offended him.

It was the quiet, he thought, that made everything so unbearable. His thoughts tend to wander when it was quiet and he didn't want to think. Haymitch shuffled over to switch on the television but he was quick to turn it off when he saw that it was the re-run of the 63rd Victory Tour.

For once in his life, he wouldn't mind Trinket's voice. Her chatter could fill the silence and chase away the void. Amazingly, she never ran out of things to talk about. There was the latest fashion, the newest shoe designs, the people the Head Gamemaker was rumoured to be sleeping with. He didn't care in the slightest about any of those – most of what came out of her mouth was white noise to him - but as long as she was talking, he didn't have to.

There were times when she talked about things that mattered but he didn't want to hear it much either. It could get her in trouble. Then there was her nagging which most of the time, was for his own well-being. He found those to be very strange because she had no reason at all to bother herself with him. "Don't drink too much, Haymitch. Don't forget to eat, don't neglect your hygiene."

He didn't mind her talking. It gave him a reason to stare. He should be disgusted with himself, leering at her the way he knew he sometimes did. Effie accused him of ogling at her often enough, anyway.

Haymitch wondered if she was as vocal and loud in bed as she was out of it. He imagined the kind of noises she would make, if she would scream his name, if her voice would be as high pitched when make her come and if her moans were as loud as –

His thoughts came to an abrupt, screeching halt. Haymitch made a noise at the back of his throat. He didn't know since when he began to think of her sexually in that manner but it unsettled him. He shouldn't be wanting her that way… or in any way at all.

Still, Effie Trinket had her uses.

He was in front of his phone before he knew it, rummaging through the junk in his drawer before he found a crumpled piece of paper that she had given him at the end of her first year working for him.

Haymitch dialled her number and waited.

It would be late in the afternoon in the Capitol. She might be out, he reasoned.

"Hello! Effie Trinket speaking, who might that be?"

Haymitch wrinkled his nose. Even over the phone she sounded obnoxiously cheerful.

"Trinket."

He heard the gasp.

"Haymitch! What a surprise! How are – Is everything okay? Are you calling me because you're hurt?"

"No," he snorted. "Listen – need a favour."

"Oh," she released a breath. "I should have known you will only call me when you are in need of something. I am fine, too, thank you for asking."

"Great," he dismissed her sarcasm and went straight to business. "How long will it take you to send me some alcohol? Ripper's ran out and I'm dry. Can't go on much longer – the shakes, withdrawal, you know? Send me the good stuffs, sweetheart, you know what I like yeah?"

"Haymitch… Maybe, it's better if – "

"I need it. I've resorted to distilling some vegetables and I ain't sure how long that's gonna take or how strong it'll be. So you be good or I'll fire you."

"Very well," she conceded even though he knew that she knew it was an empty threat. He had used it far too many times for it to have any effect. "Water it down though, please. I won't have to keeling over and die. This isn't good at all, Haymitch. You shouldn't be so dependent on -"

He cut her off before she could lecture him further. "Fast as you can, okay?"

Haymitch hung up.

The phone rang immediately after. It was her. There was nobody else. He could pick it up. He could listen to her voice instead of the oppressive silence but he didn't. The only thing he was desperate for was alcohol not some company. He didn't want to be that lonely man hanging on to her every word.

I wrote in the Aspen + Katniss bit to highlight just how lonely it must be for Haymitch before Katniss and Peeta came along, and how different his life could be. Aspen's life could be his life Instead, he's dealing with life with the help of alcohol and his escort who he might or might even be friends with.

I have a lot of Haymitch feels.