Prompt : Do you think you could write a conversation between Haymitch and Lyssa? And Effie sees them talking and laughing and gets really jealous, only to find out that they weren't flirting but talking about Effie as a kid? That would make me really happy. Merci

Hers To Keep

The party was packed with people and Effie wished she had higher heels on. She kept her dazzling smile on her lips, her eyes bright and her chin up, exchanging a few words here and there, making sure to brush the shoulders of important sponsors on her path, but her target eluded her. Haymitch had disappeared in the crowd half an hour earlier and the odds were that he was passed out drunk somewhere by now or well on his way to be.

By chance, she caught sight of Chaff, waving his glass around, his joyful laugh booming out as he tried to charm an old woman into giving Eleven money. She felt absolutely no guilt as she came to a stop next to him, cutting in with an apologetic smile and dragging him away by digging her nails in his arm.

"You keep that up, people are going to talk, love." Chaff snorted, shrugging her hand off. "What do you want? I'm busy."

"I want Haymitch." she hissed.

A twinkle of amusement replaced the irritation in Eleven's mentor's dark eyes. "Yeah, I think everyone knows that, Trinket."

"Don't be preposterous." she snapped, glaring at him. "You perfectly well know what I mean. Where is he hiding?"

Chaff shrugged. "No clue. Honestly. Like I said, I'm busy."

He left her there and went back to charming his old lady with a gibe about enamored escorts who all wanted to get into his pants. Effie gritted her teeth briefly but soon remembered herself and forced a bright bubbly smile back on her lips.

She located Finnick but he was in a clutter of overzealous women she had no will to fight to exchange a few words. Haymitch wasn't anywhere near Four's victor anyway.

It took her fifteen minutes to find Twelve's mentor leaning against one of the windows overlooking the city, a glass in his hand, chatting up a woman in a pale blue wig. It made her sizzle with annoyance. There she was, looking everywhere for him and, meanwhile, he was flirting. It was definitely his flirting face. And to add insult to injury, he didn't even sip from his glass. Whatever the woman was saying, it must have been riveting.

The woman's back was to her but there was something oddly familiar to her figure. The cut of the red dress was flattering, flowing around her freely, showing off perfect endless legs and a thin waist, delicate fingers waved a flute of champagne around as she talked, her slender neck… If the face matched the body, that woman looked perfect. Haymitch loved red, Effie couldn't help but think.

She told her herself it wasn't why she marched on them as if she was getting ready for battle – she needed Haymitch to help her at least try to get sponsors. Her smile was on, there was a spring to her steps and she made sure to sway her hips just that little bit too much.

He had a knack for spotting her when she entered his vicinity, his grey eyes naturally shifted from the woman to her and she felt herself straightening up that little bit. Whoever the stranger was, she still had his attention.

He leaned in a little to say something to the woman, nodding at Effie. She didn't even have time to frown, too soon she was on them and too soon she understood why the woman was familiar.

"Lyssa." she greeted with less cheer than her sister's delighted squeal warranted. They exchanged air kisses under Haymitch's amused eyes. "What are you doing here?"

"Where else should I be? This is the place to be tonight." Lyssa laughed. "You are so silly sometimes, Effie."

"Nice way to put it." Haymitch mocked. "You never said your sister was so nice, sweetheart."

Effie scowled. Mentions of her family had been few and far in between. It was just as much as a non-topic as his family was – for different reasons.

They had few voiced rules in their weird relationships but him having to keep away from her family had been something she had insisted on long ago. He might have thought it was out of shame for the embarrassing victor she had to escort around but it had more to do with her being embarrassed about what they thought of her. She didn't want Haymitch to get any ideas from them. He loathed her at times, sometimes hated her, but under the lust and the anger, a small tinge of respect had started to develop with the years. They were friends now, or she liked to think so at least. She didn't need her family's opinion of her rubbing on him because if Haymitch Abernathy ever started thinking of her as a failure, it might very well be a blow she would have trouble coming back from.

Lyssa, of course, would never have said any of that even though Effie knew she must have shared their mother's ideas about her career. Lyssa was sweet, she was always sweet. An angel, her mother often laughed. She looked the part too. So beautiful she broke hearts wherever she went without even noticing… Effie had spent a long time being second best to her sister, she was acutely familiar with the feeling of being ignored because when Lyssa was in a room, there was no space for anyone else but her.

That was why she had never wanted Haymitch to meet her sister even though Lyssa had occasionally expressed the desire to be introduced or had offered for Effie to bring him to dinner – they had been colleagues for years after all, that was only proper – something their mother had shot down every time. There was no comparing Lyssandra and Euphemia Trinket. There was no comparing because there was no competing, no winning against her sister. It had been the very same ever since their youth. Any boyfriend of Effie would eventually meet Lyssa and fall hopelessly in love with her. Not that Haymitch was her boyfriend, certainly not, but he was her lover at times and that was making her territorial.

She hated the way Haymitch was genuinely smiling at Lyssa. She hated the fact that he looked relaxed, openly amused and, yes, he was checking her sister out. It made her defensive, old insecurities – insecurities that always rose up when her family was around – flared and she bristled.

"Since when are you taking an interest in anything that concerns me?" she retorted.

Lyssa looked taken aback by that outburst, maybe even a little hurt that Effie wasn't more pleased to see her. Her sister was always asking her out to dinner or for shopping outings but Effie always claimed to be busy and managed to get out of it more often than not. She loved her sister – how could she not when Lyssa was as devoted as could be? – she loved her sister but everyone loved her sister when she had to fight for attention and that was a problem.

"I would have taken an interest if I had known your sister was so fun to be around." Haymitch smirked. "Gorgeous too."

Lyssa giggled, her cheeks blushing prettily under the heavy layer of make-up.

"Please." her sister countered, sounding entirely too delighted. "I am a married woman."

"Unfortunate." he smirked.

Effie's stomach churned.

"You are wasting your time. Lyssa is faithful." she snapped, losing her smile and her composure in the same second. Her voice was angry and the jealousy was so perceptible she winced. So much for dignity.

A small frown creased his brow. "I wasn't…"

"Oh, Effie!" Lyssa gasped, covering her red painted lips with a gloved hand.

"No matter." Effie waved, forcing a cheer back in her voice and a bright smile on her lips. "I was actually looking for you, Haymitch. I am leaving."

"But the party's not over." he argued. "Sponsors…"

"Do us both a favor and don't pretend you care about sponsors when you have let me do all the work all night." she hissed. "By all means, go back to your pointless flirting. Lyssa, it was nice to bump into you. I suppose I will see you at Mother's on Sunday."

She turned on her heels and left before she could make even more of a spectacle of herself. She was ridiculous. She hated being ridiculous.

She jammed the elevator call button with her finger, wishing it would come faster. His hand coiled around her arm right as the doors slid open.

"What was that about?" he growled.

"I don't know what you are talking about." she replied, stepping in the elevator and hiding her satisfaction when he followed her. If he was leaving with her, he wouldn't be leaving with Lyssa.

"I'm talking about that pathetic jealous act you just pulled." he accused.

"Pathetic." she repeated with rising anger.

"Yeah, pathetic." he spat. "We flirt with sponsors. You do it too. We do it all the time, you're going to snap like that every fucking time? What's gotten into you?"

"She's not a sponsor, she is my sister." she shot back.

"And she's here sponsoring." he sneered. "And I was getting somewhere when you…"

"Where did you want to go precisely, Haymitch?" she sneered right back. "Under her dress? In her car? In her bed?"

His anger deflated into detachment as he stared at her. She took a deep breath and looked away.

"It wasn't like that." he said, almost softly. "She said she was your sister, that got us talking. Then she mentioned she was sponsoring and…"

"Talking about what?" she hissed. "I am warning you and I am being very serious here. If you ever sleep with my sister…"

Annoyance flashed on his face and he reached for the control panel. The elevator stopped between two floors, the lights briefly flickering. He pushed her against the wall, she tried to shove him back but he pinned her wrists over her head.

"Let's be clear, here… You have no say over who I sleep with." he growled. "We are nothing."

"If you sleep with her I won't ever let you touch me again." she snarled in his face, so close she could feel his breath rolling on her lips. "Actually, I won't let you touch me again just because you thought about it."

"I didn't…" he started and then scoffed. "None of your business but, no, I didn't think about it. We were talking about you if you must know."

"I bet." she chuckled bitterly. "Were you having fun? Mocking me? Laughing about me?"

"You're hysterical." he accused, shaking her a little. "Listen to yourself."

"Of course, I'm hysterical, you are mine!" she shouted. "And she's going to snatch you like she always snatches everyone who belongs to me."

He blinked and slowly let go of her wrists to place his hands on her waist, still pinning her to the wall.

"Fuck you Capitols, people don't belong to people." he scorned. "You don't own me."

"That's not what I mean." she whispered, the fight leaving her. She leaned in and rested her forehead on his shoulder, breathing in the familiar smell of whiskey, faint sweat and cheap soap.

"She seems nice." he frowned, tentatively coiling a hand around her nape. She supposed that meant they were done fighting. "Real nice, not fake nice. She had only good things to say about you. I don't get why…"

"Because everyone loves her." she answered. "I don't want you to love her."

His breath caught a little and she could almost hear his heart thumping louder and louder from where she was.

"Good thing I don't love anyone, then, yeah?" he snorted and it sounded fake.

"I suppose so." she granted.

"Honestly, she was just telling me about you kicking and screaming for a pony when you were four." he shrugged. "Which is not surprising. It's ridiculous and kind of cute, by the way. Spoiled brat."

It was time to let go and move on to safer topics, she supposed.

"She was wearing red and you were looking at her like you wanted her." she insisted.

"She doesn't wear red as well as you do and I don't want her." he retorted. "I've told you three times already, there won't be a fourth."

"Never." she insisted, framing his face in her hands, scraping her nails against his stubble. "You can never want her."

He didn't look pleased with her demanding things. He didn't demand anything out of her. That wasn't how this thing between them worked. Suddenly, his hands were pinning her to the wall once more, his mouth was on hers, hard and unforgiving.

"Don't be stupid, sweetheart…" he growled. "Why would I want her when I can have you?"

That wasn't something anyone had ever said to her and she pulled him closer with a possessive groan, pushing her tongue in his mouth.

She trusted him to keep his word.

If there was one man who wouldn't be swayed by Lyssa's charms, it would be Haymitch.

Haymitch, she would get to keep.