Prompt : Hey, I hope you are still taking prompts. Would you write about the first time Haymitch realizes that he has feelings for Effie? I don't know if he would react shocked or disgusted or being okay with it, that's up to you. You are the Hayffie expert. Thank you !

Realization

The elevator was crammed with drunk victors and one tipsy escort.

Haymitch was leaning against one of the wall, ignoring Johanna, Seeder and Chaff's loud discussion. He was in that fantastic place between drunk and wasted where everything was fine and beautiful. Speaking of beautiful things, he had been watching his escort for the past two minutes and wondering how much time it would take him to get that short red dress off her. It was doing a number on him, that dress. And he wasn't fan of wigs but that black one with diamond ringlets he could reconcile with.

She was laughing at something Finnick was saying.

A genuine laugh, not one of her fake ones. Her head was thrown back, the sound was loud and wild and everyone shot her a quick look of surprise. No one called her out on it, they were too drunk to care. She didn't notice.

She was beautiful.

She wasn't beautiful in a I want to sleep with her kind of beautiful. She was beautiful like only a delicate flower could be beautiful. Something fragile and too pretty for the world but resilient at the same time. She was beautiful like a primrose in winter. She was beautiful in a I want to spend the rest of my life with that woman sort of beautiful.

Wasn't that a sobering thought.

The elevator stopped on the fourth floor and Finnick got out after wishing them all a goodnight.

Effie immediately drifted toward him, avoiding Eleven's and Seven's victors who were still arguing about something or other – Jo was never short of reasons to argue.

"You're smiling." his escort observed, almost puzzled.

"'M not." he slurred. He looked her up and down. "I want you."

"Haymitch!" she huffed, shooting a glance in the victors' direction. Either they hadn't heard or they didn't care. "You're drunk."

That was always an accusation in her mouth. It was always a little sad too.

"Not enough not to know what I'm doing." he countered.

She pursed her lips and shook her head. "Too much for us to do anything. I won't risk you accusing me of taking advantage tomorrow morning."

That had happened once or twice out of a misplaced and hypocritical need to deny that he could ever be attracted to a Capitol.

She never slept with him when he was too drunk to be responsible for his actions. Even when he insisted. Even when she wanted it. He respected her for it. He trusted her because of it.

It occurred to him at that moment that maybe he liked her a little because of that too.

And maybe he didn't just like her but that was too much of an alarming thought and he quickly pushed it away.

He barely noticed Johanna getting out at her floor.

"I don't hate you." he told Effie very seriously, following his own train of thought.

A small amused smile played on her lips and she let out a tipsy giggle. "You are drunk."

"'M serious." he shrugged with a smirk of his own.

"Well, I don't hate you either." she grinned. "You are actually likeable when you are not bent on being insufferable."

"Right back at you, sweetheart." he snorted.

The bright grin remained fixed on her lips and it was all he could think about when he finally crashed on his bed.

He had stepped into that elevator thinking he was free and unattached.

He had stepped out a little too aware he wasn't.

Fortunately, he could blame it all on the alcohol and forget everything about it the next day.