prompt : I'm in a fluffy mood, can we have one in which Effie is a mess till Haymitch calls her princess? Be it post rebellion or before the quell.
Princess
"This is so awful…" Effie sighed, wrapping the headscarf around her hair.
Haymitch watched from where he was sprawled on the bed, trying to gather the will to get up, get dressed and walk all the way to Command. He was functioning on too few hours of sleep, an inconvenient complete lack of alcohol, a bite here and there, and too much sex for a man his age. Wars had been won with less, he figured.
"What is?" he mumbled, wondering if her headscarf was warmer than his beanie. Thirteen was so deep underground it was all they could do not to freeze. He was adding another layer everyday and every time he saw her, her outfits got shorter and shorter. Right now, for instance, she had buttoned her shirts together in a sort of long tunic that left one shoulder completely bare.
"Everything." she shrugged. That was something he had only seen her do on few occasions before Thirteen but it seemed the environment was starting to rub off on her. "How long until it's over do you think?"
She turned around to face him and he frowned. "Not long if you walk around like that. You will catch your death. Aren't you cold?"
"A little." she admitted but waved the discomfort away.
"You should go back to your room and grab a jacket or something." he advised.
"I don't have time." she objected. "I need to go prep Katniss. I will be fine, don't worry."
"Lately, that's all I'm good at." he sighed, swinging his legs off the bed. He rummaged around until he found his clean – ish but she didn't need to know that – woolen jacket. "Here."
"You are sweet but that's not necessary." she protested, refusing to take the jacket he was handing her. "You're more sensitive to the cold since you are… well, sober. You keep sneezing at is it, I wouldn't…"
"Princess, take the damned jacket, say thank you and go take care of the girl." he grumbled, cutting off her mindless chatter. Finally she grabbed the jacket and put it on, all the while smiling at him like he had said something groundbreaking. He would never understand that woman. "What?" he barked.
"I used to hate it when you called me that." she remarked with a certain fondness. "You and your idiotic pet names… But now… I don't feel like a princess at all, nor do I look the part, but when you call me like that…" She dismissed the rest of her own sentence with a tiny shrug and pressed a kiss at the corner of his lips. "It makes me feel like I am still beautiful."
He rolled his eyes. "You're still beautiful. Thirteen improved your look, told you a thousand times already."
Her lips twitched in a pleased grin and she pressed another forceful kiss on his mouth. "It's unfortunate I have to dash."
"Yeah." he snorted, tucking a wayward strand of hair back under the scarf.
Unfortunate indeed.