Prompt : hey! if you like the idea could you please do a hayffie fic based on this post: post/104528939121/provokatio-n-i-remember-how-my-ex-used-to-do (particularly the caption) idk i just think its a really sweet post that could fit the whole post-mj broken effie/caring haymitch thing... idk ;)

Here is the caption : I remember how my ex used to do that when she was sad, she sat on my lap and wrapped her legs around my waist and just kept kissing my neck softly and slowly and I stroked her back

Comfort

There were days when Effie wouldn't get out of bed.

Sometimes, Haymitch managed to coax her out of her room with suggestions that the kids needed her to check up on them, that Peeta would probably appreciate the help at the bakery – she was good at handling the clients and it gave him time to bake – or that Katniss needed to be distracted. Sometimes, nothing worked and he would get frustrated. He hated those days.

When he woke up around noon, he knew it would be one of those.

Ever since she had appeared on his doorstep and moved in his guest room, she had made a point of forcing him to get up at decent hours. When she didn't wake him up before nine in the morning, it meant she hadn't bothered to get out of bed herself.

He wandered to her room, not bothering with putting on a shirt or sweatpants over his boxers, and climbed in her bed without a word, slipping his legs under the warm blankets and sitting with his back against the headboard. She didn't move or even acknowledge his presence in any way. Her back was turned on him, she was staring straight at the wall. She wasn't crying yet but it was worse in a sense, because she was lost in her memories.

She flinched when he placed a hand on her back.

"It's only me, sweetheart." he said.

She rolled around at the sound of his voice, her unfocused eyes becoming a little less glassy. He wasn't surprised when she straddled him and wrapped her arms around his neck. She used to do that for entirely other purposes but now she did it when she wanted comfort and it was an especially bad day. Mere hugs didn't work in those instances, she needed to be as close to him as possible. Their chests pressed together and her face buried in the crook of his neck, that was how she wanted it. He wrapped his arms around her without any question, and let his head fall back against the headboard, absent-mindedly stroking her back.

He lost track of time or maybe he drifted off. He was hungry and his fingers were starting to shake, an unnecessary reminder that he needed a drink, but still he didn't move. Not until she pressed a long kiss against the side of his neck. It was her way of saying thank you, he knew, because sometimes the words failed her. They weren't enough. He dropped a kiss on her shoulder, his own way of telling her she shouldn't worry about it.

He felt her soft sigh against his skin and held her tighter.

Tomorrow would be better, he hoped.