Prompt:

Narcissesme - You should do one where they are both awkwardly talking about having babies or fantasizing about one another looking as parents...


"Dance with me."

Effie shook her head, nursing her glass of whiskey on the sofa.

"Come on." Haymitch turned the radio up louder but Effie only laughed and shook her head again.

They were both drunk.

Very drunk.

And while Haymitch seemed to abound with energy, Effie always had a fuzzy head and felt lethargic.

"No …" she said as he pulled at her arm. "I'll watch."

"I'm not dancing alone, sweetheart - come on."

"Haymitch …" But Effie let him pull her up and wrap an arm around her waist. She yawned and rested her head against his chest as he swayed with her back and forth. "Don't trip!" she said when he did almost fall over. "Be careful!" she laughed, helping his straighten up.

"You take care of me so well," he said, giving up the dancing and falling onto the sofa. He brought her down onto his lap. "You've always taken care of me."

"I don't think I know much else," Effie replied.

"Shut up. That's not true."

Effie shrugged and sipped her whiskey. "No. Probably not."

"You'd make a good mother."

"Haymitch …"

"You would. You really fucking would."

Effie leaned back but there was nothing behind her - she fell awkwardly backwards onto the sofa, but just laid there with her legs still over Haymitch's.

"I mean, the kid would probably get wrapped in a cushion just go outside but damn that kid would not have one scrape, would it?"

"Scrapes are good for children."

"Really, princess? We agree on that?"

Effie nodded. She was balancing her glass now on her chest.

"I was coddled. I don't think I touched a hard surface until - oh stop laughing, you're disgusting - no, but my mother … i'd never want to be like her."

Haymitch was taking off Effie's shoes. "Good. 'Cause she sounds like a bitch."

Effie laughed and almost spilled her drink.

"I'd be worried about you as a father," she said.

"Why? 'Cause of this?" he asked, holding up his drink.

Effie shook her head. "No. Because you'd be the protective one."

"Ha!"

"You would!" Effie sat up, ignoring the fact she had finally spilt her glass. "You definitely would! Oh, Haymitch, you'd be terrible!"

"Terrible?"

"You know what I mean!" She was balancing on her arms now unsteadily. Haymitch leaned over and kissed her.

Effie fell back on the sofa again, bringing him down with her.

"I want a child," Effie said before Haymitch kissed her again. "I do."

"I know, sweetheart."

She kissed him.

"Pour me another drink."

He shook his head. "Bottle's empty." But he let her have a sip of his.

Clumsily, they started fooling around with each other's clothes - pushing this and that out of the way but neither were up for it. Effie could feel the whiskey soaked pillow under her now that her top was pushed halfway up. She could also feel the stubble on Haymitch's cheek were he was resting his head against her.

She stroked his dark hair slowly.

"We shouldn't do this," she muttered.

"Do what?" Haymitch looked up - he had to kiss her again at least.

"Talk about it. Get our hopes up for nothing."

"We're not. We're just … joking."

Effie sighed. "I don't like this joke."

And neither did Haymitch.

The punchline was always the same: empty bottles and the two of them staring at each other, wishing the subject had never come up.