Prompt: I can't get enough of your writing and Hayffie, so could you please write a chapter about one of these little touches you just mentioned? It would be lovely, my dear.
Obvious & Oblivious
1 Chaff
Chaff wonders sometimes, how stupid Haymitch must think him to be. All his I'm not fucking her and No way I'd touch her and You're kidding? Not happening in a hundred years…
It's obvious to anyone with eyes Haymitch's fucking his escort. It's everywhere in the way they act around each other, the heated glances they share, the private smirks and grins, the occasional private jokes that nobody else can get…
Trinket would argue they're a team and it's natural they have a special bond – and Chaff gets that, the special bond thing. He's that way with Seeder – minus the obvious sexual tension. But that's the thing, isn't it? He doesn't spend his time watching Seeder as if he wants to jump her right here and there – thanks god – like Haymitch does. He certainly doesn't end up with a hand on her thigh every time she sits next to him.
Every time, he muses, watching the unconscious drumming of his friend's fingers on the red fabric of Trinket's dress. Haymitch doesn't even realize what he's doing, he's too busy watching Gloss make a fool of himself a few feet away. Trinket is distracted, sipping from her glass of champagne, her eyes often darting to Eleven's escort and her gaggle of friends – more gossip about her, no doubt. Maybe that's why Haymitch reached out for her in the first place, because she's obviously on edge and he automatically wants to soothe.
Chaff shares a look with Finnick but holds his tongue.
He doesn't want to point that out because he's not sure it's even funny anymore. Whatever kind of secret affair they share used to be good for a laugh. Now…
They don't even realize they're touching and his hand on her thigh is both possessive and comforting.
Chaff doesn't think it's a good thing.
He thinks it will end in disaster.
2 Finnick
Finnick tries not to think of Haymitch and Effie as surrogate parents because he spent quite a few years in his youth head over heels for Effie and it's a bit fucked up – although he is probably a bit fucked up so it shouldn't be surprising. The more years pass though, the more he finds himself looking up to them. Mags is like a grandmother to him, always has been for as long as he can remember, but Haymitch has become a father figure almost as soon as he met him, and Effie… Effie is so narrowly linked to Haymitch, she has found her own slot in his life.
He likes watching them – in a not creepy way.
If asked, they will swear and shout to the moon they hate each other but the truth is so obvious to him… It's obvious for a lot of people except them really…
He doesn't think they realize how they act toward each other, how telling the simplest things are.
Like the way Haymitch almost always places a hand at the small of her back to guide her in and out of rooms.
Finnick watches from afar as Twelve's team wait for the elevator, arguing as always about something or other. Effie is talking loud, her hands flying around to make her point clearer. Haymitch rolls his eyes and snaps something back that obviously angers her further… And yet when the doors slid open, he rests his hand at the small of her back. It's not just a gentle nudge, it stays there. It always stays there. Eventually it will drift south, lingering, toying with property, before being dropped…
It's something so casual, he would bet they don't even know they're doing it.
He thinks it's a bit tragic really, how they found love and don't realize it.
3 Mags
Mags likes the girl.
Effie Trinket is Capitol, selfish, egocentric and boisterous but there's a kind heart underneath the veneer or at least the old woman thinks so. She is still an escort and, for that alone, Mags has her reservations.
She's been in the Games for long enough that she knows all Capitols are not the same. Some Gamemakers and escorts are sick of their job after a couple of weeks, once their eyes open to what they are truly doing. Some prefer not to see. And a few others are really talented at pretending they haven't seen.
Trinket, she thinks, falls into the last category.
She must have the truth by now or Haymitch would never have allowed her to cling to his arm like she always does. She doesn't do it only with him, Mags noticed, she saw her link her arm with Finnick's or one of her friends once or twice, but Haymitch is constant. If they are going somewhere together, chances are they will do it with her hands around his arm, or their elbows looped together.
She watches them from the top row in the City Circle. They're lost in the crowd in the VIP section, all victors, escorts and stylists looking for their designed spot to watch the Opening Ceremony. Effie points at something in the distance – their seats probably – before placing her hand back on his biceps, her other arm tightly looped around his, as if she's scared he will disappear. The girl's smile is dazzling and Haymitch rolls his eyes but humors her with a smirk.
Mags has known the boy since he won the Quell. She can't remember ever seeing him looking at someone the way he looks at that girl. There's something in his eyes. A tentative spark he will probably deny himself if he ever realizes it's there. The spark is in the escort's gaze too, obvious in the way she squeezes his arm once more in an affectionate rebuke.
Four's victor is not sure she approves.
Haymitch deserves some love.
But this…
This cannot end well.
4 Johanna
Jo hates it.
She downs her shot of tequila and tries to ignore it but she hates it.
The escort. And whatever Haymitch is doing with his escort.
It's always the same thing. They decide to go out, Trinket either tags along or joins them later to 'keep an eye on them' like they're five years old who need a babysitter… Chaff and Finnick are nonplussed by it and she figures it's because it's been going on for years. Another thing she doesn't quite get.
Willingly fucking a Capitol is a betrayal to her.
Willingly fucking an escort shouldn't have been allowed.
But willingly fucking an escort for years?
She doesn't get it and she hates it. It disgusts her. And Haymitch can lie about it all he wants, it is obvious they are fucking.
The bar is shady enough that nobody cares about four victors and an escort getting drunk in a corner. Trinket had a drink too many and it's usually the point Jo would challenge her at a game of pool, even though the escort beats her two times out of three – cheating, she was sure of it. She remains sitting next to Finnick in the booth and fills her glass again instead, barely listening to the conversation between Four's victor and Chaff, too busy glaring at Haymitch and Trinket.
Trinket excused herself to go to the ladies, Haymitch went to fetch more liquor – supposedly. They met halfway and now Trinket is leaning against a pillar, head tilted to the side, throat bared in the oldest invitation in the world, a teasing grin on her ugly blue painted lips. She looks like a fish with that blue make-up on, and Jo doesn't get how Haymitch can be interested. And yet he is interested, that's plain to see.
He's well into his escort's space, his hand casually resting a little over her head to prop himself up, smirking down at her, his eyes twinkling with amusement at whatever she's saying. She's playing with the lapel of his jacket. She does that all the time, touching him under the pretence of fixing his clothes. Smoothing imaginary creases on his shirt, adjusting his tie, tugging on his waistcoat…
Jo is sure Miss Proper is sex-talking him right now.
It disgusts her.
5 Peeta
He's almost done dragging a mostly clean Haymitch back to his bed when the Capitol woman waltzes in the room as if she owns the place – and she probably does – a worried scowl on her face. She stills when she spots Peeta supporting the man's dead weight, clearly not having expected to find him here despite leaving him and Katniss to deal with Haymitch half an hour earlier.
Peeta is not sure what to make of them yet. Their escort and their mentor.
"You did not have to wash him, dear." she says and for the first time since the Reaping, her voice isn't as cheerful or loud. It is almost kind. "I will take it from here."
He wants to say it's no trouble and that he might as well finish what he started by dumping Haymitch on the bed, but she's suddenly in his space, relieving him of Haymitch's weight. He tries to protest because the man is heavy and surely she can't handle it with her heels but she seems very practiced at the act. Haymitch's eyelids flutter open, he mumbles something that might have been her name and then wraps himself around her in a way that makes it both easier and more complicated for to help him to the bed.
She thanks him and Peeta knows it's a dismissal yet he can help but stare at the way the victor fights to remain sitting, his face buried in her stomach. He remembers the awkward butchered hug on the Square before the Reaping and he wonders.
Eventually he edges closer to the door, too curious to stop tossing covert glances at them. Haymitch is clingy and demands her attention so Peeta doesn't think she realizes he is still there when she runs her fingers through his hair and draws out a long sigh.
It's practiced, he realizes as he leaves.
She's used to petting his hair that way, used to be hugged tightly by the man.
It makes him wonder what he landed in.
6 Cinna
There is more to Haymitch Abernathy and Effie Trinket than meets the eye.
The old drunk and the dumb debutante.
They hide behind those roles like a well oiled machine but, as the Games go on and it becomes obvious Twelve has a shot and the stylists are truly willing to help, they drop the masks a little.
There are a lot of late nights spent in the penthouse's living-room that became their headquarters, few hours of sleep to be had and most of them stolen on one of the couches, smudged make-up and creased clothes, sandwiches passed around and numerous requests for coffee… There are some things you cannot live through and not grow closer.
Effie and Haymitch are a formidable team, that is obvious to Cinna. They work together like he works with Portia. Talking isn't always necessary, a shared glance is enough to know what the other thinks or wants. They're of one mind.
It's also obvious to him that, while the constant arguing is not an act, there's something deeper between them.
It's all in the casual gestures they have for each other, something nobody would do with a colleague but would allow themselves with a close friend or a lover.
Haymitch has this thing…
When Effie bows over some paper, face set in deep concentration as she calculates their finances, or when she watches the screen and toys with a silver lighter, anguish and stress radiating from her in waves, Haymitch always gravitates toward her. It's subtle and Cinna doesn't think the victor even realizes what he's doing but, often, he briefly coils his hand around her nape and squeeze once. Usually, she flashes him a small smile and relaxes immediately.
Cinna thinks they think they're discreet.
He only has to share a look with Portia to confirm they're not.
7 Portia
For Portia, it's all very sweet.
Well. Despite the daily arguments and the headache inducing screaming. Whatever floats one's boat, though. If their idea of foreplay is almost killing each other, who is she to judge?
Still, she thinks they are sweet.
Victory Tour is stressful and they are all on edge. Every time they visit a District, they're all holding their breath for the next disaster and, while they manage to more or less keep it from the kids, there are a few other near misses. Cinna won't let her wander out of his sight when they step off the train and Haymitch sticks to Effie's side like glue.
She can't quite figure out what the escort knows. She is not part of the rebellion movement but Effie is far from being stupid, she is just very good at hiding her true feelings. She must see. She must understand. Yet she never falters, never betrays herself.
There is nothing innocent in the way Haymitch always steps in front of her when they find themselves faced with a threatening Peacekeepers squad armed to the teeth. He keeps her slightly behind him with a barely outstretched hand, his fingers ghosting over her wrist, always ready to shield her if need be.
It's futile, Portia thinks, because if they decide they want them all dead, they probably will all die – regardless of who dies for whom.
But, still, it is very sweet.
8 Annie
Annie drifts.
After the official surrender, they called both Johanna and her to the Capitol and they parked her in the Mansion's hospital to monitor the baby. She does care about her baby being healthy but everything else…
She drifts.
Without Finnick to anchor her, she's not sure she will ever manage to find her way back.
She wanders around the hospital when she can successfully avoid Jo's near constant watching over her. Often her feet take her to Effie's room. She's sorry she wasn't rescued with the rest of them. She's sorry she was left to suffer on her own. She's sorry there are guards at the door, not for the woman's safety but because they want to arrest her again despite everything.
Not that Haymitch will allow that.
Haymitch won't allow any harm to come to Effie just like Finnick would never have allowed anyone to hurt her.
She knows.
Every time she sees him in Effie's room, he's brushing his fingertips on her hand, from wrist to the broken nail of her broken middle finger, back and forth and back and forth, not quite daring to touch but unable to help himself. It's practiced, the way he does it. It's the caress of a lover, late into the night, ghosting along an arched spine. She remembers Finnick touching her like that. As if she was unique and precious and he couldn't quite believe she was his.
She doesn't make her presence known if those instances.
It's too private and it makes her ache for what she lost too much.
9 Plutarch
It's stupid maybe, because he guessed a while ago now, but Plutarch only realizes just how much Haymitch cares for Effie Trinket when he walks on him brushing her hair for her.
When he's not at Katniss' or Peeta's side, Haymitch is usually in Effie's room, so Plutarch got used to tracking him there. He doesn't always knock either because this is a hospital and the door is often slightly ajar.
Perhaps he should knock because it would have avoided him the awkward silence that followed his entrance.
Effie's right arm is trapped in a sling and she still looks a mess, the eyes she turns toward him are glassy at best and there is no rebuke about manners, her hair is mostly tangled and limp despite the nurses' best attempts at salvaging it and their numerous recommendations to cut the whole thing off – something Haymitch won't hear about. She's sitting crossed-legged on the bed and Haymitch is sitting right behind her, a leg on either side of her body, leaning back on the plastic headboard, the pink pocket hairbrush looking ridiculously out of place in his big hand.
He wants to joke, ask if Haymitch does that often… One look at them convince him not to. It doesn't look like it's the first time the victor is doing that for his escort. The way he holds the brush, the way his other hand is gently holding the strand he's attempting to untangle… The trust she displays offering him her back when Plutarch knows for a fact she flinches away from everyone else, including doctors and nurses… It doesn't look like a first time.
Suddenly, it's not that crazy to imagine petulant Effie Trinket commanding him to brush her hair because she is too tired or lazy to do it by herself. Haymitch would have probably protested but she might have succeeded in cajoling him into it once or twice.
He has no idea what their affair is like. Haymitch has always been close-mouthed about it, has barely admitted to him there is something more than friendship, when they were in Thirteen and he was desperate to have her found, as a way to convince the Gamemaker to work his contacts. Haymitch is a very private man, life made him hard. And yet Plutarch is very sure that under the rough exteriors, he can be soft and tender. He suspects Effie Trinket is probably the only woman who can attest to that.
So instead of joking or even stating what he wanted in the first place, he quietly apologizes and leaves, closing the door behind him.
They earned their peace.
10 Katniss
She's not the most observant girl in Panem. Mainly because she does not care. It might sound selfish and it probably is but she has her priorities straight, always had: family first, the rest later.
Nowadays her family is Peeta, of course, but it is also Haymitch and Effie – and maybe that's why she starts paying attention.
She sees the way Effie tenses sometimes, out of the blue, how her laugh breaks halfway through… She sees the intrusive memories that plague their escort, because they are all too well acquainted with trauma not to. Effie would hate it though so Katniss pretends she doesn't see, she follows Peeta's lead and pretend to buy the act, altogether convincing, that Effie is completely fine.
As if Effie Trinket would willingly choose to spend her life in Twelve if she was completely fine.
She can't say she understand the relationship Effie and Haymitch share. They're friends, she thinks, in an odd twisted way. Comrades in arms, maybe, because they spent years facing Games after Games together and it must have created a bond.
Still, it surprised her when Haymitch opened his house to her, claiming she could stay as long as she wanted. Friends or not, Haymitch doesn't like people intruding – even she and Peeta aren't welcomed all the time, and Katniss gets that because she needs her alone time too, but suddenly Effie showed up and Haymitch didn't even protest her invasion when there were empty houses in the Village she could have settled in. At first, she and Peeta thought they would kill each other before the end of the week but they didn't and so Katniss held her tongue.
And she kept holding her tongue because Haymitch looked happier.
She's glad she did now, although she still wants to ask questions sometimes because she doesn't quite get how people like Effie and Haymitch can be roommates.
Haymitch's guard is down around her though. That too, Katniss sees clearly. Effie isn't quite the same as she used to be. She doesn't give spontaneous hugs anymore, she doesn't reach out unless it is absolutely necessary, and she sometimes flinches when one of them brushes too close to her – something they all pretend not to see – and so it's odd because now Haymitch is the one always offering casual touches when he used to never seek human contact.
When she tenses and her gaze turns distant, he places a hand on her shoulder or covers her fingers with his. It does not always do the trick but it's often enough to make her blink and smile her trademark cheerful smile.
They hug a lot.
Never in front of Peeta and her, but Katniss walked in on them more than once, almost always managing to sneak back out without being detected. Either Effie would lean against him, tentatively requesting a hug or Haymitch would casually wrap his arms around her like it's the most natural thing in the world.
It's odd and Katniss doesn't know what to make of it because she's not in a habit of hugging her friends like that for no reason and Haymitch isn't either. And the hugs don't seem to have a reason or a purpose more often than not. To her, it just feels like one of them randomly decides they want a cuddle.
The idea of Haymitch Abernathy wanting cuddles is almost as laughable as their escort and mentor wanting to cuddle together.
She lost count of the number of times, she came to talk to Haymitch only to find the both of them napping on the couch, in the middle of the day, with Effie on top of him, using him as a pillow, legs entangled, and his arms locked around her even in his sleep. She usually puts it on the insomnia they all more or less share.
Still she finds their friendship very weird, completely different from what they used to share during both Games and Victory Tour.
She keeps her mouth shut though.
She thinks only one thing is clear…
They need each other.