Prompt: Effie has a romantic dream about Haymitch, but since Effie talks whenever she sleeps, Haymitch hears her mention how much she loves him, the confronts her the next morning.
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Effie woke up with a pleasant feeling of contentment and a smile on her lips. She didn't open her eyes immediately. The bed was so warm and she was so comfortable she stretched like a cat and hoped she wasn't late to anything because she could feel it was going to be one of those mornings when getting out of bed would be a perfect hassle.
"Welcome to the land of the living, sweetheart."
Haymitch's voice, roughened by sleep, only made her smile wider. She opened her eyes to find him laying on his side, propped on his elbow, watching her with unusual attention like she was a riddle he absolutely had to solve.
"Did you spend the night?" she hummed, trying to get rid of the last remnants of sleep that were still dulling her mind.
Her memories of the previous night were foggy at best. There had been a victory party for Finnick's latest tribute, Annie Cresta if she wasn't mistaken – and Effie rarely was – and everyone had agreed that it had been the weirdest victory party ever, all the more so given that Finnick had barely stayed an hour before making his excuses to go and check on his new victor who was still in recovery for whatever reason. She had survived a flood and hadn't appeared otherwise wounded so Effie couldn't see where the problem was. Four's escort had laughed it off every time someone tried to ask what was wrong. Once Finnick was gone, the party had died down a bit, Haymitch and Chaff had decided to come back to the penthouse to have a party of their own and Effie hadn't been able to stand more than an hour out there before joining them. It had probably been the worst victory party in the history of the Hunger Games and she had been glad to find liquor waiting for her upstairs. That was the precise point at which things had gone fuzzy. She did remember leaving the two men to their discussion after she had drunk more than her fill and she did remember going to bed. She also very much remember Haymitch sneaking in her room some time after that…
That wasn't really surprising. It tended to happen more and more lately but he rarely stayed in her bed after they were done.
"I fell asleep." Haymitch replied still studying her closely. "You woke me up. Did you know you talk in your sleep?"
Did she? Nobody had ever mentioned it. "Really?" She snuggled up to him and kissed his bare shoulder, deciding that having a man in her bed was the perfect excuse to not get up just yet. "What did I say?"
He rolled on his back and she took that as an invitation to get closer, she kissed her way from his shoulder to his jaw, nibbling softly on the stubble that was quickly threatening to become a beard full stop. She felt his Adam's apple bob up and down and that made her grin against his skin. She liked his five o'clock shadow as much as she complained about it. It was just so… Haymitch. No man in the Capitol would ever be caught dead with such a thing on their face but Haymitch? Haymitch took pride in looking raggedy.
"My name." he finally replied, crashing his mouth on hers. "Repeatedly." he added before kissing her again. Haymitch had a way with kissing, she had never been kissed like that before he barged into her life with his liquor and his characteristic lack of manners. Everything about him was rough and unrefined but it was also so, so true, far from the glitter and smokescreens that ruled in the Capitol. He kissed just like that. It was fierce more often than not and he never made any apology for it, he never asked if she wanted any of this but the second she would say no he'd back away, he pinned her to walls and groped her in the elevator just to spike her and he treated her like no gentleman would ever treat a lady. And she loved it. She didn't have to be a lady when she was in Haymitch's arms, she could just be Effie. That was enough for him, she thought. "And others things."
She giggled when his fingers trailed on the side of her waist which made him smirk, he always took great pleasure in teasing her ever since he had discovered she was ticklish. "Well, if I remember correctly what we did before I fell asleep, you can't blame a girl for dreaming about you doing it all over again…"
His amusement disappeared. "Not that kind of dream, sweetheart. You didn't even moan once."
"Oh…" Then she didn't know what she had been dreaming about, she couldn't remember. "Disappointed?" she teased with a grin. He didn't tease back or smirk. Somewhere along the line the mood had shifted and he was back to looking at her like she was a mystery to solve. "Alright, what did I say then?" She didn't sit back or move away though, she stayed right where she was, pressed against his chest.
"You told me to get the dog." he replied, perfectly seriously. He coiled and uncoiled a strand of her blond hair around his finger absent-mindedly.
"The dog." she frowned, once it was clear he wouldn't explain further. "You don't have a dog." And more to the point… "Don't get a dog. I hate them. Get a cat if you must."
He didn't seem to grasp her little joke. "How often do you think about getting a pet with me?"
"Don't be ridiculous." she huffed. The topic for some reasons felt treacherous and she was anxious to change it. She kissed him softly but he didn't respond. "We are in a bed, we are both naked, are we really going to discuss the merits of cats over dogs or are you going to take advantage of me?" She was hoping for a smirk and a playful barb but he remained stern and thoughtful. She frowned and sat back, draping herself in the sheet to preserve a modesty she had long since lost with him. "What's wrong?" Because she couldn't believe talking in her sleep about him and a dog could have warranted such a reaction. There was something else.
Haymitch's grey eyes were wistful. "You didn't stop at the dog."
Of course she didn't. It was just her luck. And it had been such a pleasant morning until then… "It was a dream." she sighed. "You can't control a dream, you of all people should know that. Whatever I said, it's not…"
"You said you love me." he said.
That made her rambling stop. She gaped a little and desperately tried to find something to say to that but her mind was empty. In the end, she faked a laugh that sounded forced and out of key. "There you have it, then. Nothing but a silly dream."
He sat back against the headboard slowly, not averting his eyes from her once. She felt strangely vulnerable and she wished she wasn't naked. It was stupid of course because he had seen her naked a lot of times in the past but… she felt bare. "Is it?" he asked, his voice flat.
She licked her lips nervously, looking down at the sheets pooling in her lap. "Obviously. Nothing but a silly dream." Very, very silly. Stupid too. Oh, so very stupid. But Effie was a stupid silly woman, wasn't she? There was a lump in her throat that wouldn't go away no matter how many times she swallowed. She didn't dare glance at him which probably told him all he needed to know.
"As long as we're clear on that…" he shrugged.
Her eyes were burning with tears she wouldn't – couldn't – shed. She nodded. "We are." She turned his back on him, forcing her voice to become bubbly and cheerful once again. "We're late, this is a catastrophe. We will be completely off schedule." She managed to get a foot out of the bed before he touched her arm and she stilled. It was all it took. A hand on her upper arm. He didn't grab, he didn't clasp, he didn't even stroke. It was nothing but a touch. And it was enough to make her stop.
"Come back to bed." It wasn't an order but it was demanding all the same.
She didn't turn around. "I need to get ready and you do too. The interviews for the losing Districts are at noon sharp."
"It's barely nine." She could practically hear him rolling his eyes.
"Getting ready takes time." she argued, grasping the first excuse that came to mind.
"You're upset." He placed a hand on her arm again but this time, he tugged quietly until she looked back at him. Her mask was in place. Her perfectly polished mask that showed nothing but polite interest and carefully constructed happiness. The lack of make-up and wig probably reduced the effect but she knew she had a good poker face, lying and pretending to be happy had become second nature. He let go of her arm to cup her cheek, his thumb circling slowly on her cheekbone as if he wanted to disrupt the façade. "Don't hide behind that. I don't want the escort in my bed, I want Effie."
Another thing no man from the Capitol would ever say so plainly. It made her ache when he said he wanted her and not the living sex-symbol she was. It made her ache for things she knew he would never give her. His heart, among other things.
"First, this is my bed. Second, I don't know what you're talking about." she lied, stretching her neck so his hand would fall. "I need to get ready, Haymitch, so you need to leave. Please try to refrain from getting drunk right before a live-interview."
"Fine." he scowled angrily. "Have it your way."
She narrowed her eyes at him but still threw back the sheet and marched out into her en-suite bathroom in all the glory of her naked body. She didn't close the door because she was sure he would get back to his room and his precious bottles of liquor as quickly as he could. He never meant to fall asleep in her bed in the first place, it was an accident, they never did that. She thought back of the contentment she had woken up with, the warm bed, the warm body next to her… The ache became a full yearning and she wiped at her eyes, angry with herself for being so stupid.
She caught her reflection in the bathroom mirror and took a good hard look at her naked natural self. By Capitol standards, she was ugly – natural beauty was always ugly – by other standards she supposed she looked plain. That was what her mother had always told her anyway. Her hair was unremarkable, tangles of curls she could never properly tame – that was why she resorted to wigs instead of having it dyed up because it would be a pain to deal with it every morning – her face was nothing special without powder and colors to make it pretty, her eyes were shining because of the tears and looked reddish from the abuse of alcohol and short amount of sleep of the previous day, there were dark rims under them – she couldn't say if it was smudged mascara or bags – and the rest of her body wasn't much better. She was never thin enough to her taste or to fashion requirement hence the corsets she preferred to bras, her thighs and calves didn't look good unless she was wearing heels, her hips were too wide and her breasts too small. She had toyed with the idea of having them redone but she was wary of surgical operations which had always made her stay as far away as she could from plastic surgery.
"One day, you will fall in your mirror."
She startled a bit, grabbed a towel and twisted it around her body to hide it from view. Haymitch hadn't bothered to dress properly. He was leaning against the open door wearing nothing but his boxers.
"I thought we were fighting." She turned to the bathtub. She had time for a bath and she could use the relaxation. She was a bundle of nerves now.
"We're always fighting, sweetheart." he sighed. She felt him coming closer as she checked the water temperature and poured more than a fair amount of bubble-bath. "I like the make-up part better."
"I'm not in the mood for making-up." she snapped but when he placed his hands on her shoulders, she didn't shrugged them away. "Go away, Haymitch." Her voice sounded strained and fragile, she hated it.
He didn't go away. His arms sneaked around her middle and gathered her close against his chest. He kissed her shoulder softly, his stubble itched but she didn't comment on it. "It can be nothing but a silly dream, you get that, sweetheart, right?" he whispered in her ear uncertainly. "We have no future. We only have now."
She closed her eyes and relaxed against him. "I'm not daft, don't be patronizing. You are not looking for commitment, I understand." She took a shaky breath. "It would be best if you'll return to your room next time. I don't think you need to hear more of my sleeping ramblings."
"I like waking up with you." She felt his irritated sigh rolling against her neck. "I like… I guess if things were different I would like to fight with you about cats and dogs but things are what they are. You are who you are and I am who I am, that's doomed. Don't fall for me, sweetheart. There's no hope there."
"There's always hope." she replied but it was hollow and she knew it.
"You will only get your heart broken." he warned before kissing her shoulder again.
He was trying to comfort her. That should have made her cry, it only made her laugh. He was taken aback by her hilarity. She was too, a bit. "There's nothing to break, Haymitch." she snickered once her laugher had toned down. "Escorts don't have any heart to break."
"Bullshit." he snorted before forcing her to face him. He searched her eyes for something and then brushed the hair away from her face. "Bullshit." he said again, more softly. When he kissed her, it was slow and almost painful. Her supposedly inexistent heart was throbbing with too many suppressed emotions. "It's okay to have silly dreams, sweetheart." he whispered against her lips. Their noses bumped quietly and he brushed his mouth against hers again but didn't deepen the kiss. "I have them too." Her heart stopped beating for a full second and then it started racing. He could feel it, she was sure he could feel it. He gripped her chin gently and guided her in another kiss. That one was soft and warm and made her tingle all over. "But the thing with silly dreams is… you have to remember you will wake up at some point."
"I don't want to wake up." she objected, eyes shut tight.
He draw back a little but not enough. When he spoke, she could feel each of his words against her mouth. "I can't love anyone." He brushed his fingers through her hair, not quite petting but close. "I… can't, Effie, not even if I wanted to. It's too dangerous."
He was going to walk away, she sensed it. He was going to walk away and he would never sneak into her room in the dead of night again. "Then don't." she rushed quickly, a bit desperately. "Forget silly dreams. Let's go back to fighting and having sex." They had been doing that for years, blow steam between torn sheets and against the penthouse walls… It was only recently that she had felt the connection changing, something clicked between them. She framed his face with her hands and forced him to look her in the eyes. "I'd rather have sex than nothing." How pathetic was that? "I'm not a dreamer, Haymitch. Let's just forget this whole disaster of a morning."
He seemed uncertain but then his eyebrows shot up to his hairline. "Your bath is overflowing."
That was so not the answer she expected she couldn't help but frown. "My apologies, what?"
"Your bath is overflowing." he repeated just at the water licked her feet. She only had time to shriek in distress at the mess before he was reaching behind her to turn the tap off. "Well…" he whistled, staring at the water that had pooled everywhere and the bathtub full to the rim. "Aren't you going to be in trouble for damaging Capitol property…"
"That's not funny, Haymitch." she hissed with a glare. "Find a towel or something and help me mop the water off." She would call an Avox but she couldn't actually do that while he was there and he didn't seem in a hurry to leave. The bath mat was soaked but she still steered it around with her foot to the largest puddle. She couldn't help another yelp when he snatched the towel from her body to throw it on the ground. "Really!" she huffed but then she saw what he was up to and her eyes widened in shock. "Don't you dare! Haymitch!"
But he did dare.
He slipped his boxers off and stepped into the bathtub sending even more water on her bathroom floor.
"I am going to kill you." she growled, grabbing another set of towels from the cupboard and dropping them here and there. With her luck, the water would drip to the floor below – the bathroom of Eleven's escort – and Viola would come up there screaming.
"You sure as hell won't kill me from over there, Princess." he mocked her. "Get in."
"Certainly not after that little stunt you just pulled." she scowled.
"Two hours until the interviews." he reminded her.
She shook her head and locked the door – just in case Viola did come screaming. "Damn you."
His smirk was slow and teasing. "Kill me, damn me… Is that all you want to do with me, sweetheart? 'Cause I have a few other ideas…"
"You aren't getting sex." she snapped. "Put more bubble-bath in, I like my baths bubbly."
"Of course, you do." He rolled his eyes but emptied the rest of her expensive product in the water. She carefully lowered herself in the bathtub, sending more water and foam splash on the floor. It was a mess but once she was settled between his legs and leaning back against his chest, it was a glorious mess. It almost made up for the hellish way that day had started.
They stayed silent for a while. Haymitch amused himself by smearing her strawberry lotion on her arms and she was happy to let him even though the lotion was supposed to come after the bath and not during. At least he was quiet and not thinking about whatever her treacherous mind had confessed while she slept.
"I was." he said, out of the blue and she startled a bit, realizing she had almost fallen asleep, lulled by the gentle splashing on the water against the bathtub walls each time he moved.
"You were what?" she asked, stealing the bottle of lotion away from him before he could waste anymore of it.
"A dreamer." He mused, sliding down until his head was cushioned against the rim of the bathtub. "Once." The bathtub was huge, she had no trouble turning over and snuggling to his side. She didn't want to have that conversation again, so she laid her head on his shoulder and let him talk. "Silly dreams never come true, sweetheart, but they hurt like hell when the bubble bursts. I know you like your bubbles but…" he sighed. "I can't think like that again."
"I actually understood the first time you said it, you know." she tried to joke.
"Yeah, I don't think you do." His fingers started playing with her hair again. He had a thing for the tangle of curls she didn't get. "I'm saying… I'd have liked to be able to. With you."
It took her a few seconds to decipher it out. "Dream again, you mean?"
He grunted something that could have been a yes or a no and left it at that.
"That's enough for me." She kissed his neck and rested her head back on his shoulder. She didn't know how long they stayed in the bathtub, silently contemplating silly dreams but when they finally got out, the water was long cold and they were late for their interviews.