Prompt : Hi there :) I had an idea for a fic but I'm a shitty writer so I thought id give it to you since you're a great one :D it's totally cool if you decide not to do it but I have this head canon where the mentors and escorts and anyone to do with the games would be like super paparazzi-followed famous so I thought it would be cute if the press found out about hayffie like maybe they catch them on a date or something and then hayffie have to do that cute running/hiding from them to avoid Photos ;)

I won't update HADS tomorrow because I will publish the first part of a multichaptered story (check out "Must be Something in the Water" if you're interested about another hayffie story) so next prompt will be published on Wednesday. =)

Paparazzi Run

"You eat a lot for such a petite woman." he smirked, studying her spotless empty plate that had previously been full of baked good.

His own muffin was still half-eaten but his appetite was rocky at best given that he had been getting by on minimal alcohol consumption since his arrival in the Capitol three days earlier. The City was very different from what it had been before the rebellion. It helped some. Effie's presence helped more. He didn't want to waste their short time together by being drunk.

"Did no one ever tell you commenting on what a woman eats is the absolute peak of rudeness?" Effie replied without missing a beat, grabbing his cup of now lukewarm coffee since her own was long gone.

"You, probably." he shrugged, never parting with his smirk. "I'm good at reaching absolute peaks. You told me that too, sweetheart."

Her laughter was free and spontaneous, the kind she wouldn't have allowed herself before the war. Several heads in the little bakery-restaurant turned but Haymitch didn't mind. She was a beautiful woman and there was no shame in being seen with her. She wasn't an escort anymore and he wasn't a mentor. He was used to the stares and the whispers but when he was out with her, he chose to believe it was about how a man like him could ever have secured the affection of a woman like her rather than about things he would be glad to leave in the past.

He loved to watch her laugh. Her head slightly thrown back, the glint of perfect white teeth, blond hair that tumbled on her shoulders, blue eyes that sparkled in earnest… He loved it. He could watch her laugh all his life. She hadn't been laughing enough lately.

Abruptly, her face morphed from joy to dread and he barely had time to wonder if she was having a flashback before she grabbed her purse.

"We need to go." she said, rummaging in her bag for her wallet.

"Don't bother." he mumbled, taking a few crumpled notes out of his pocket.

"Do you think they have a back door they would let us use?" she asked warily.

"What's the problem?" he replied.

Her agitation was catching the attention of several other patrons.

"Paparazzi." she sighed tiredly. It was all she needed to say, really. They were one of the plagues that had survived the rebellion and even expanded their borders. There were thousands of little gossip magazines now – Plutarch even held shares in some of them. Twelve was still out of bounds for now, he had secured that much from Paylor. They didn't need Katniss and Peeta exposed on the front of every rag that country had to offer. The Capitol, however, was fair game and Effie had whined more than once about that. He had already been photographed without his consent several times since his arrival in the Capitol, making his very discreet visit a matter of possible national discussion since he had been so active in the war only to conclude – when he didn't meet with Plutarch or Paylor – that he must have had a lady friend in the City.

Rumors about him and Effie had been flying left and right but they never had a proof until now.

"Back door it is." he agreed.

"I am so very sorry." the bakery owner declared, appearing next to his elbow as if out of thin air. "They're already camping in the back alley. I actually think there are less of them out front."

"Thank you." Effie offered gracefully.

Haymitch felt less gracious. He was thundering, annoyed that their nice relaxing breakfast had been cut short.

He promised himself to never make fun of her again for her insistence about wearing sunglasses in the dead of winter. The big ones she slipped on covered her face, and the scarf she tied on her head hid her hair. She wasn't unrecognizable, but it wouldn't make for pretty photos.

"Where's the car again?" he asked, while she turned up the lapels of his coat in an attempt to make him less identifiable. He wasn't thrilled by the idea of being photographed climbing into her pink monstrosity of a car either.

"To the right." she replied, smoothing the coat to hide her own nervousness. "It's no different than back in the days. You do remember how to handle this, don't you?"

"I remember having to carry you out of a sea of avid fans who were set to get to Finnick." he joked. "Can't be worse than that."

She winced at the memory. "That day was a complete disaster from start to finish. A lot of security members were fired over it."

"I bet." he snorted. They were both stalling for time and, meanwhile, the flashes had started although he didn't know how they could get good quality pictures through the turquoise blue tinted windows. It looked like an aquarium and it made him feel like a fish. "Alright, let's go."

He glanced at her purple heels and held out his hand for her. Just like old times, he mused. It had always been his job to make sure she didn't fall behind in that kind of situation. Some people were crazy and she wouldn't have been the first person to get hurt.

They took a deep breath before running out of the bakery, their hands holding tightly to each other, their other arm thrown over their faces to hide them from view. He cleared a path with his shoulder, not looking who he was pushing aside, dragging her behind until they finally reached the pink horror. She ducked to get behind the wheel and he ran around to open the passenger door. He was certain they got a clear picture of him at that moment but, if he was lucky, they had him flipping them off.

Effie quickly started the car, driving faster than allowed and only relaxing once she was sure they weren't being followed.

"What story do you think they will make out of this?" she asked, biting her lower lip.

"Pretty obvious we're together." he shrugged. "We can keep on denying it but… honestly, what's the point anymore? The whole mystery is what they're after. If we came straight out and say it, they will get bored."

She almost hit the car in front of them in surprise. The man raged at her but she made placating waves with her hand until he took a turn on another street. She parked the car in the next free slot and turned in her seat to face him. "Are you saying you want to make it official?"

Make it official sounded much serious than what he had in mind. "I'm saying… We don't have to hide. All the sneaking around is getting stupid, sweetheart."

"Most of our shared acquaintances know or suspect but are too tactful to say anything." she agreed. "But I am confused… You were the one who wanted privacy. You said that what we did behind closed door was no one else's business… What changed?"

What changed… Katniss and Peeta being well in body and mind for the first time in forever and being all lovey-dovey all the bloody time. It made him ache for her.

He leaned in and stole a kiss that got deeper without neither of them realizing it.

"Is it important?" he whispered against her lips.

"I suppose not." she grinned, her thumb retracing the line of his cheekbone. "Perhaps I should thank those paparazzi."

"Perhaps you should move to a place without paparazzi." he retorted, pressing his mouth against hers again only to delay her answering.

"And where would that be?" she hummed, her tone teasing.

"My house." It was forward enough and he kissed her once more because that was the quickest way to cut her off and he didn't want to be rejected straight away.

"Your house…" she repeated slowly when their lips parted so they could breathe. "Are you asking me to move to Twelve with you?"

"Do you have to reformulate everything I say with a question?" he grumbled. "It's annoying, Princess."

"Are you?" she insisted, completely disregarding his attempts at switching topics.

"It depends." He rolled his eyes. "If you're saying yes, I am. If you're saying no, I'm not." She grabbed the lapels of his coat and pulled him in a kiss that left him breathless and completely out of control, no matter how hard he tried to get the upper hand back. "I will take that as a yes, then." he chuckled when she gave him back his freedom.

"Don't be smug." she grinned, starting the car again. "It's unbecoming."

He didn't let go of his smug face.

She belonged with him and that was something to be smug about.