So this isn't a prompt but an idea that came up while talking with Allonsysilvertongue. We were talking about how Effie would react if she was to compete with a District woman for Haymitch's affection in 13 given that she is deprived of her usual "Capitol beauty" and is very much not a District woman. From there, we thought, what if he had a fling with Hazelle at some point in CF aaaand you will need to read to know the rest. We decided to both write a version of this story because I wanted to read hers and she wanted to read mine, so go check her story too!

Being Green

Thirteen's corridors were a maze but Effie had become quite apt at navigating them. She knew how to reach her main destinations : her room, Command, the dinner hall, the remake center, the shooting studio. Haymitch's room…

She barely paused in front of his door, she walked in without bothering to knock like she had done a thousand times in the penthouse, already launching herself in an irritated speech about Coin and her latest gibe at her customized uniform.

"Can you believe this woman?" she gritted her teeth, letting the door slam shut behind her. "I swear I have never in my whole life…"

The dark-haired woman sitting calmly on the bed brought her to an abrupt stop.

"Oh." Effie blinked slowly before widening her eyes at the mistake. Was she even on the right floor? It had happened before. Clearly she wasn't as apt at navigating the corridors as she wanted to think. "Oh, I am so sorry. I must have opened the wrong door. Oh my, how embarrassing. I am so sorry for barging in like this…"

"I think you have the right door actually." the woman cut her off.

Effie barely had time to frown before Haymitch walked out of the small bathroom, bare-chested and the lower part of his face covered with white foam.

She registered everything : the lack of shirt, the unmade bed, how comfortable the woman looked waiting there, the amused almost pitying way she was looking at Effie, Haymitch's uncomfortable stance… Yet that wasn't what shocked her the most.

"You're shaving." she said, her voice was flat. "I've been asking you to do that for days."

"Hazelle convinced me." he shrugged.

"I have my ways." the woman – Hazelle – laughed good naturedly.

It was a pretty laugh, contagious and cheerful. The woman herself was pretty : dark hair that was starting to turn grey at the root, skinny but still curvy where it counted, and sparkling grey eyes. Very District.

Effie didn't feel like laughing at all. She was quick at hiding the pain or the feeling of betrayal. Haymitch had certainly never promised her anything and she had never asked. They had a business-like arrangement, nothing more. Sex was comfort, stress-relief. He was free to do whatever he wanted on the side. As was she.

"Clearly." she huffed, unable to completely suppress her annoyance. She had her ways too and, certainly, they were more efficient than whatever that woman could muster. Haymitch had always been very appreciative of her ways.

Haymitch looked even more ill-at-ease now. He hovered uncertainly near the bathroom, his grey eyes darting from one woman to the other.

"What do you want?" he asked her.

Effie didn't want to admit that she had hoped to vent her frustration with Coin, possibly by kissing him senseless.

"How rude you are!" she exclaimed instead, falling back on her escort persona "Honestly, Haymitch? What do I have to do to make you learn decent manners? Aren't you going to introduce us?" It was obvious that he had no desire to do so, as a consequence, Effie took a deep breath and offered her hand to the stranger. "I am Effie Tr…"

"I know who you are." the woman interrupted her very rudely. "I've been dreading for years to hear you call one of my children's name."

Effie let her arm fall back to her side. "I see."

"Play nice, sweetheart." Haymitch snapped and Effie immediately opened her mouth to defend herself but Haymitch wasn't looking at her. For the number of times she had hated and resented the moniker, she realized she hated it even more when he used it on another woman.

Hazelle eyed him with obvious irritation, pursing her lips. "She's an escort."

"She's my escort." Haymitch corrected in a growl. The possessive way he said it sent shivers down Effie's spine. "And she's on our side. I brought her here, didn't I? Why would I do that if I wasn't sure?"

An amused smile played on the woman's lips. It was indulgent and slightly teasing, like the way you smiled to a child when you wanted to humor him. Effie could see her with children. She was probably a very accomplished mother.

"Because you like your women difficult." Hazelle joked. "I would know."

"If you say so." he snorted.

They were staring at each other and Effie had to suppress the urge to move between them, to stand in front of Haymitch until she was all he saw – until she was all he desired.

She could see the easy friendship between them, the obvious attraction.

"I should go." She cleared her throat awkwardly. "I apologize for intruding. It won't happen again." She caught Haymitch's eyes, hoping he would get her message but he only frowned.

"Intruding never bothered you before." he taunted. "Why start now?"

She looked at Hazelle who finally stood up and offered her hand albeit very reluctantly. "Hazelle Hawthorne."

"Oh, you are Gale's mother…" she deduced, forcing a smile on her lips. Hazelle's hand was bony and warm to the touch. Her own hands were always cold, Haymitch had complained about it enough times. "He is a very handsome young man. You must be very proud."

"I am." The woman's face softened briefly. "He doesn't like you much, though."

Effie wondered what Hazelle was expecting with that little comment. An apology for her past as an escort? An explanation? A pathetic life story that would have justified her career choice? Effie had been humiliated enough, she thought. Her smile hardened, her face devoid of the ever-present cheerfulness.

"There is no accounting for taste." she replied.

Hazelle grinned, her grey eyes darting from her to Haymitch for a second in a very obvious statement. "Indeed, there isn't."

Effie huffed, deciding to hate the woman on the spot. She was clever, Effie would grant her that, and pretty-enough for a District woman of her age but that was all.

"Well, good day to you." she said, before turning on her heels.

"Trinket!" Haymitch called after her but she was already out the door. She leaned against it for a second after closing it, wondering at how easily her world could turn upside down again. It was an unfortunate idea because she heard the clear feminine laughter through the wood.

"She has it bad for you, Haymitch." Hazelle's voice teased.

Effie's cheeks flushed red and she walked away as quickly as she could without breaking into a jog. She didn't quite understand the tears burning her eyes that she was only keeping at bay by sheer force of will. She ran all the way to her own room.

Why would Haymitch prefer a District woman to her?

She was a hundred times more beautiful than Hazelle Hawthorne, she was classier, she was… Capitol.

Was she?

Was she still all that?

She was wearing two shirts hastily sewn together over woolen tights that were starting to tear at the heel. Her wig was taken away so she had to wrap her hair in a dull scarf to hide it from view. Her fake nails had been torn away leaving her with chipped nails that sometimes bled if they got caught in fabric. As for her face… Make-up was out of bound, all she could save was a miserable cherry gloss and some coal for her eyes.

She wasn't completely Capitol anymore despite her best attempts and even though she was living in a District, she certainly wasn't a District woman either.

If a District woman was what Haymitch wanted…

She admired the way women in the Districts let their natural hair flow on their shoulders and how they walked around without any make-up or fashionable clothes. She truly admired them for the bravery it must take them to look so… plain.

Effie wasn't made to look plain.

She had dedicated her whole life to not look plain.

She wanted to be beautiful, desired, loved, envied and more.

What was there to envy or desire in her now ?

Nothing.

However little, Effie still had her spirit, though, and she downright refused to let Haymitch know her feelings were hurt.

She walked to the dinner hall as if nothing had happened, sat with Cressida and Messala and laughed loudly and very often, ignoring the dark looks people were throwing her way. She didn't glance once at the corner where Twelve citizens were eating and she pretended not to notice that Haymitch was sitting right next to his lady friend.

She avoided him over the next few days, trying to convince herself that it was for the best, but it felt worse because if he noticed her taking her distances, he didn't let it on. He barely even looked up when, at the end of the fourth day of her self-imposed exile, she placed a steaming paper cup of tea next to his monitor in Command. He didn't thank her but he drank the tea nevertheless.

He didn't thank her either when she pushed him in a storage cupboard she had taken the pain to scoot out earlier that morning, but he was quick at responding to her kisses. A dread she hadn't been aware of uncoiled in her stomach when he didn't outright reject her. Haymitch, for all his flaws, was a faithful man. If he still was willing to have sex with her, it meant his fling with that Hazelle woman wasn't serious. And if it wasn't serious, Effie could put an end to it and keep him for herself.

Her first impulse when he pinned her against the wall of that cupboard and buried his face in her neck was to openly demand he stopped seeing the other woman if he wanted to have his way with her. Yet, she knew better. That might have worked on a Capitol man but Haymitch would never react well to an ultimatum.

The only option was to seduce him so completely he would have eyes only for her – which seemed a complicated task. It probably was a good thing that Effie had never been afraid of impossible challenges – she would never have taken the job as District Twelve's escort otherwise.

No, she vowed, kissing him deep and raw just as he liked it best, she would win Haymitch fair and square.

She exited that cupboard feeling like a queen, it seemed as if she had won a battle already.

Of course, the triumph didn't last long. Her enthusiasm deflated greatly when she spied him sitting with Hazelle at dinner. They were surrounded by kids, a girl who couldn't be much older than four or five, and boys who looked just like Gale Hawthorne. The little girl was trying and failing to climb Haymitch's back to hang from his neck. If the game bothered him, he didn't show it, deeply engrossed in a conversation with Katniss' mother who was sitting on the other side of Hazelle.

Effie started making enquiries.

Discreet ones, like she used to do when she was trying to figure out a new sponsor. She probed information out of Katniss first because the girl was the most obtuse person she knew and would never think it odd of Effie to ask weird questions. Then she moved on to Plutarch – who wasn't as easily fooled but who did have the tact not to say anything about her sudden curiosity. And then, at last, she went to Katniss' mother under the cover of possible propos on Gale.

It took her five days to discover that Hazelle was a widow, that her husband died in the same mine accident that took Katniss' father, leaving her pregnant with the little girl named Posy who looked like an energetic child. She used to have a washing business to make ends meet before she started working as a housekeeper for Haymitch on Katniss' suggestion.

All in all, an admirable woman.

How was Effie supposed to compete with her when her most glorious accomplishment was winning the award for sexiest woman of the year three years in a row?

She wasn't exactly the sexiest woman in Panem right then. Granted, Hazelle wasn't either but she had other appealing traits Effie was lacking. She had that rough District charm going for her.

Their paths crossed twice in the next week when Katniss dragged Effie to her usual table for dinner. Hazelle was a lively person, funny and witty, who wasn't afraid of replying to Haymitch's sarcasms by her own brand of banter. Effie could see why he liked her, she was his kind of woman: feisty, Chaff had once said. On that front, the escort could have fought, but Hazelle had a softer side which Effie lacked. She was a mother and a very good one at that, she was kind and good-hearted and Effie started to think that maybe she would be good for Haymitch, better than she could be. They certainly didn't bicker like they were prone to do a thousand times a day.

"Do I have something on my face?" Hazelle asked her at some point.

Effie realized she had been staring for too long but she didn't have to force the small smile that graced her lips. "You're very beautiful."

That was the highest compliment she could make as ridiculous as it sounded. Katniss certainly dismissed it at once to go back to glaring at Haymitch, still not over his failure where Peeta was concerned. Effie didn't see where the point was in blaming him. Everyone was at fault in her opinion.

"You too." Hazelle offered.

She didn't detect any malice or hypocrisy in the other woman's voice so Effie's smile softened. "Not anymore."

She left before anyone could ask her to explain herself, pretending she didn't feel Haymitch's eyes tracking her progress out of the dinner hall. She wished she could have rejoiced over it but it felt hollow.

She wasn't overly surprised when he entered her room later that night, after lights out, without bothering to knock. She wasn't surprised either when he crawled into her bed and started kissing his way up her throat.

She let him.

She let him shed layer after layer of clothes and make her feel better.

It was meant as comfort, she knew, a comfort he would never know how to put into words but it felt like pity. She didn't know if it was her mind playing tricks or if it actually was pity.

He held her for a while after they were done. She knew it wouldn't last long because he wouldn't want to fall asleep in her bed but she couldn't stop herself from clutching the arm wrapped around her middle to keep him there just a little longer. She wished she could fall asleep like that, her back to his chest, his breath on her neck… He never stayed. She wondered if he ever spent the night with Hazelle.

"I like her, you know." she said out of the blue.

"Who?" he mumbled sleepily and perhaps she was wrong, perhaps for once he intended to stay.

"Hazelle." She expected the name to shift the mood but it didn't, he simply held her closer.

"She's a good person." he declared. "Very brave."

"Yes." she agreed. "Very pretty too. For someone from a District. I wish I could hate her."

He didn't play the fool and for that she was glad. He didn't try to pretend he didn't know what she was talking about.

"We're not doing that anymore, sweetheart." he told her defensively. "Not since well before the Quell Reaping. She was getting attached. She would have wanted more eventually. I don't want more."

"Don't you?" she whispered. She couldn't keep the hurt out of her voice. She tried, she truly did. It wasn't as if she had been needing his confirmation. It was very obvious for someone with eyes that there was a history between the two of them. Yet… It still hurt.

"Don't act like I cheated. I don't owe you anything. We're not together either." he growled. He moved as if to let go of her but she gripped his arm harder, keeping him in place.

"I didn't say you did." she replied but she wasn't sure he heard her.

"I slept with her a few times, so what?" he snarled. "The Quell announcement… Everything was bleak and alcohol wasn't cutting it anymore. I wanted something else and you weren't there to give it. We never said we couldn't go with other people. I didn't cheat." She wondered who he was trying to convince, her or himself? "I ended it. We're just friends now."

She could almost taste the lie.

"She loves you." she said very quietly. "Or she could if she let herself. I see it every time she looks at you."

"I don't want love." he spat. This time, she didn't resist when he let go of her. "I don't need a woman to be in love with me. That's what our arrangement is for, Princess. No strings attached, no feelings."

She didn't turn to face him, she couldn't.

Her silence somehow spoke louder than any words.

And his telling lack of answer was even worse.

"Effie…" he breathed out at last.

He almost never used her name. Only when it was a serious situation. She hated it.

"I would like you to leave now, please." she asked, very politely. "Also, I think it best if you refrain from talking to me for a few days."

"Effie." he insisted, placing a hand on her shoulder. She shrugged it off, not keen on hearing the same speech he probably had given Hazelle months earlier. She climbed out of bed and into the bathroom with her head high and her eyes dry, refusing to let him see the damage. Eyes bright, chin up, smile on, her mother's voice whispered in the back of her mind.

He was gone when she stepped out of the bathroom. She couldn't quench a slight tinge of disappointment that he had chosen that moment to finally start obeying her.

He kept his distances from her like she had asked but despite all his speeches about not wanting more, he still spent a lot of time with Hazelle and her kids. He seemed to have a fondness for the youngest, Posy. Admittedly, she was cute and not easily deterred. She always made lunch breaks a little more animated.

Six days after what she had dubbed in her mind as "the incident", Effie was busy watching the little girl put on a show two tables over from hers. She was too far to hear what was being said but everyone was laughing, including Haymitch.

"Effie?" Plutarch nudged her arm and she startled.

"I beg your pardon?" she asked, glancing back at the papers spread over the table they had requisitioned for themselves. They were trying to work out a new series of propos over lunch.

"You're distracted." Plutarch's smile was kind and a little too knowing. "Is everything alright between you and Haymitch? Because…"

The awkward subject was cut short by the arrival of Posy who climbed on the free chair next to Effie and sat back on her knees without an ounce of shyness.

"Hi!" the girl said.

"Hello." Effie smiled. The child was rather cute – even though she obviously didn't know how to sit properly on a chair. "Did you want something, sweetie?"

The little girl nodded enthusiastically, reaching for the scarf on Effie's head. "Why do you have that?"

She faltered a little at the unexpected question. "To cover my hair."

The child's face crumpled in puzzlement. "Why? Rory says you don't have hair and you don't want people to see but Haymitch says you're just being stupid which it is?"

"Is it." she corrected mechanically, sending a glare in her victor's direction. His only answer was to lift his glass of water in a mock toast. Obviously, everyone at Twelve's table was waiting for the results of Posy's quest.

"Which is it?" Posy repeated dutifully before looking at her with a pleading face. "Pretty please, can I see?"

"I…" She opened and closed her mouth, unable to find a reason to refuse the girl. Every woman around them was wearing their natural hair loose and, as plain and lacking refinement as she judged it, Effie couldn't deny that no harm would come to her if she took off the scarf for a second. The success of her attempts at keeping close to Capitol fashion was dubious anyway. "I suppose so."

Plutarch's eyes widened in surprise when she actually reached for the knot at the top of her head but it was Haymitch's gaze she sought. He was smirking, looking pleased that she had taken up his challenge. He also licked his lips unconsciously, as always when she let her hair loose, and that made her feel good, empowered somehow. He had an odd obsession for her hair.

Posy's little gasp made her confidence falter for a second but it didn't last because the little girl stood on the chair, prompting Effie to steady it to impede a fall, and reached for her strawberry blond curls with both of her hands.

"So pretty!" the child exclaimed.

"I concur." Plutarch offered gallantly.

Effie couldn't help a smile.

It didn't last long.

She saw the commotion coming, she heard it coming because it was hard to ignore Gale's angry shouts. She heard Katniss screaming at him that it wasn't because he was angry with her that he had to take it out on her escort and Effie knew, at once, that the playful moment was over. Hazelle stood up and tried to hold her son back but it was too late.

All Effie had time to do was to untangle her hair from the child's fingers before Gale whisked her away. The little girl let out an amused giggle, obviously thinking it was a game, but her brother's glare promised murder.

"Keep your child-murderer's hands away from my baby sister." he hissed before storming back to their table.

She didn't meet Plutarch's eyes while she wrapped the scarf back around her head.

"Effie…" he tried but she didn't want to listen.

There was a point where it was all well and good to keep a low profile and be aware of your own faults but there was also a line not to cross and Gale had been crossing it repeatedly ever since they had been formally introduced by Katniss. The fact that he was Hazelle's son had nothing to do with it although she couldn't say it helped the situation in any way.

She stood up and walked to the Hawthorne-Everdeen table before she lost her nerves. Regardless of how right Gale was, she had always been nothing but kind to him since she arrived in Thirteen and he treated her badly at every possible occasion. She understood that he hated her because he had spent so many years fearing her, she understood that she wasn't his favorite person in the whole world, she understood it all – but none of that excused his ruffian behavior.

Hazelle stopped scolding her son as soon as she saw her, Gale sneered and Haymitch winced.

"Trinket…" he tried to warn her but she dismissed him with a wave, talking directly to the boy who thought so poorly of her.

"You are a very rude young man." she said, relieved at finally getting that out of her chest. She had been showing huge restrain where he was concerned. "Your manners are appalling and so is your attitude. You should be ashamed of yourself and I expect an apology."

Was she mad? Given the flabbergasted and downright shocked looks she got from everyone at the table, she might have been.

"I'm not sure you have any right to expect an apology from anyone in Twelve." Hazelle finally replied because Gale was too busy gaping at her to do so. "If anything, you owe us an apology."

"This has nothing to do with my career as an escort or even my Capitol origins but everything to do with the rudeness of your son." she snapped. The restraining hand Haymitch placed on the woman's arm was the last drop. "You don't behave like he does on a daily-basis when you are civilized."

Katniss' eyebrows shot up and then she dropped her eyes into her plate as if she didn't want anything to do with the argument.

"You're such a…" Gale began only to fall silent when his mother slapped his shoulder, a warning in her grey eyes. At least, she didn't tolerate insults, Effie thought.

"My son is extremely well-behaved, thank you very much." Hazelle spat. The chair rasped when she stood up. "You will apologize."

"Certainly not." Effie huffed. "I have done nothing wrong in this instance."

"In this instance being the key words." Hazelle spat. "Who do you think you are?"

Effie's chin jutted in the air arrogantly. "Who do you think you are ? No one. That's whom. Nobody knows your name. Nobody will ever remember you."

"Effie." Haymitch snapped but he was openly ignored by both parties.

"My family will remember me and that is enough." Hazelle chuckled. "I don't need to go down in history as the woman who plucked children and sentenced them to death for a living." Effie took the blow without a flinch but, clearly, it wasn't enough for Hazelle. "Besides, if I am so insignificant why are you turning green every time you look at me? You can't admit you lost to someone from a District, can you?"

Now the looks around them turned curious. Haymitch made a face, obviously displeased. Effie's cheeks flushed crimson but she refused to be embarrassed.

"I didn't lose." she hissed. And she certainly wouldn't without a fight.

She could bury her feelings deep down and give Haymitch the easy arrangement he wanted. It was obvious Hazelle couldn't.

"Not yet." the woman taunted.

"Are you both done?" Haymitch gritted his teeth in annoyance.

"Why don't you defend her?" Hazelle's smile was smug, as if she knew that Haymitch would never choose a side. "That's all she's waiting for."

"She doesn't need me to defend her." he growled. "And she didn't lose for the good reason that there's nothing to win."

He stormed out. If possible, Gale's sullen face became even more sullen now that he had clearly understood what was going on.

Effie went back to Plutarch's table without another word. There was no point.

"Everything's alright?" the Gamemaker asked, avoiding her eyes. There was an amused smile tugging at his lips. She supposed it must have been amusing from afar. She didn't know what had overcome her to create such a scene. She hated that kind of scenes - it was much too plebeian for her tastes.

"Perfectly so." She grabbed her notepad and started jutting out notes about the propos.

"You know…" Plutarch cleared his throat. "He fought tooth and nails to bring you along and get you immunity. It must mean something."

"It means I'm his friend." she snapped.

"I doubt he considers you a friend, Effie." the Capitol man laughed gently. "He looks at you like…"

"He wants a District woman." she interrupted him – very rudely, she was ready to admit. "He hates my quirks. He hates my accent. He hates the fact that I am from the Capitol. He wants a District woman who has the same moral values he does. He is simply too stubborn to see it right at this moment but he will eventually." She allowed herself a bitter smile. "It is hopeless. That is the last I have to say on the subject."

"Very well." Plutarch sighed. "I think you're wrong but very well."

Did Plutarch discuss the subject with Haymitch or did the latter come out of hiding on his own? Effie wasn't sure.

Nevertheless, she was still surprised when a hot paper cup of tea was placed on her desk later that afternoon while she was busy organizing the shooting schedule of the new propos. She looked up to see Haymitch, stern and annoyed.

"You didn't lose."

That was all he said before walking away.

Perhaps, she mused, sipping her tea quietly, it was enough.

Yet, he didn't stop taking his meals with the Hawthornes.

She started forgoing the scarf to wear her hair in stylish braids or buns.

Suddenly, he couldn't keep his hands off her. He pushed her in dark corners, he dragged her in abandoned corridors, he tugged her in unused rooms… She never let it go further than a quick fumbling and a few kisses. It didn't seem right somehow.

"I can play at being a District woman but I can't be one." she whispered, one day, when he was busy nibbling on her collarbone. The hair was bothering her. She didn't like that everyone could see her plainness. It was old-fashioned, ugly… It would have been better if she had access to some dying product. She could have gone with pink hair for a while.

"I never asked you to be." he sighed against her skin, kissing the spot he had been worrying between his teeth.

"I am not truly a Capitol either now, though." she continued. "I don't know who I am."

"Effie." he shrugged. "You're Effie." He kissed his way up her jaw slowly, taunting and enticing all at once. "You're a pain in my ass – a gorgeous but very irritating pain in my ass."

He drew his head back long enough to meet her eyes. She could barely guess at his features in the dark cold storage room they were hiding in. She brushed her fingers against his cheek, relishing in the stubble. For all her complaining, she didn't like him clean shaven.

"But she's so different from me, Haymitch…" she whispered. "And you never were interested in any other Capitol woman…"

"It should tell you all you need to know then, don't you think, sweetheart?" he snorted, leaning in to capture her lips.

She evaded him. "It tells me we make no sense."

"See, I knew you weren't totally stupid." he taunted. "Of course we make no sense."

She closed her eyes and sighed, knowing she would regret the next part. "Well, it might be a problem because I want more than just sex." He didn't freeze or tense or anything too obvious but she kept her eyes shut nonetheless. "I am not asking for love declarations or vows of commitment but I don't want you to sleep with other women anymore."

He tucked a loose strand behind her ear, prompting her to open her eyes. His face was guarded, she could see it despite the darkness.

"Okay." he said at last. "Won't make much of a difference anyway."

"Won't it?" she scowled.

A flicker of irritation flashed in his eyes. "I told you. Nothing happened since before the Reaping." He rolled his eyes. "And it wasn't cheating."

"It wasn't then but from now on it will be." she argued. "You are mine."

An amused smirk tugged at his lips. "If you wanted to brand me you could always find another bloody golden bangle."

"Do I need to brand you?" she asked very seriously. "Because that could easily be arranged."

She kissed the spot right under his jaw that always elicited a positive response out of his body, working on the skin with her teeth and her tongue.

"Okay." he gave in, nudging her away before she could leave a mark. "Point taken, sweetheart." He kissed her, a hand tangled in her hair the other gently pulling at the small of her back so she would press even further against him.

"Did I win then?" she whispered against his lips.

"There was never a competition." He rolled his eyes. "You won, if that's what you want to hear. I don't know what good it will do to you but you won."

She felt a bit sorry for Hazelle because she certainly deserved Haymitch more than she did. However, Effie was selfish.

She would take the victory even with the guilt.

He was worth it.