I did a drabble request game yesterday on tumblr so here is everything =) Enjoy!
6. "Is there a reason you're naked in my bed?"
Haymitch came back to the penthouse late and in a fool mood. Finnick had gotten entirely too drunk, preventing him and Chaff from actually enjoying the night. It was their own fault. They should learn to let the younger victor deal with his own mess. If his escort had been there it would have been easier but she had ditched them for a family dinner or whatever and he had been left to deal with Four's victor on his own.
He went straight to his room, intending to change into sweatpants before snatching a bottle from the liquor cart, only to freeze on the threshold.
Granted, there were worse sights.
"Is there a reason you're naked in my bed?" he asked, schooling his features into detachment.
The sheets and covers had been kicked to the very foot of the bed and there she was, in a lavished position, naked as the way she was born, no wig and no make-up.
"Do I need one?" she purred.
He pondered that and then shrugged to concede the point. He got rid of his clothes in record time and crawled on the bed, right on top of her.
"Lousy night?" he asked because she always seemed to be in a mood when she came back from her parents' house.
"I could use some distraction." she admitted. "How about you?"
"It's getting better." he smirked, leaning down to kiss her.
14. "Hey, I'm with you, okay? Always."
"I'm not saying no, sweetheart." he sighed. "Hell, it's not my business to say no. I'm just saying… Are you sure?"
Effie pursed her lips and let her hand trail on the papers she had left on the desk. She had made all the calculations, she had explored every avenue… She was certain of herself. The crux of the matter was helping at the bakery was only a part-time job and it wasn't exactly thrilling to her. She wanted to do something she loved. She wanted to do something daring. Becoming a stylist at her age was certainly daring enough.
"I would start small." she argued. "An on-demand service. And I would work at home. I would convert the study if you are alright with that. If things go well, I could think about opening a shop in town…" She grabbed his hand and squeezed. "It could work. It will work. I really want to try. I just need to know you are alright with this."
"Hey, I'm with you, okay?" he shrugged. "Always. No question."
"Then it is settled." she grinned, tossing her arms around his neck. "We should hang a sign on the door… Effie Trinket, dressmaker. How does that sound?"
"Like I'm going to get acquainted with all the old hags in the District." he snorted. But as long as she was happy…
18. "This is without a doubt the stupidest plan you've ever had. Of course I'm in."
"So that's your plan." he snorted. "Getting Viola to talk shit about Crane, recording it and then anonymously sending it to a news channel in hope it will be enough to get her fired."
"When you say it like that, it sounds childish." she pouted. "Point is, it could work. Are you in or not?"
"This is without a doubt the stupidest plan you've ever had." he chuckled. "Of course I'm in."
It would at least alleviate the boredom a little.
27. "I'm pregnant."
I'm pregnant.
The words were still ringing in his ears two hours later. He brought the glass of liquor to his lips but it was of no comfort.
"Are you still thinking about it?" Effie hummed, gently nudging the hand holding the glass aside so she could sit on his lap. "You knew it was bound to happen at some point."
"Did I?" he asked, still shocked and numb.
"Haymitch, Peeta had never hidden he wanted children." she sighed. "I was suspecting they had been trying for a while now."
"Did you?" he frowned, a little less distracted. "Could have warned me."
"Well…" she grinned. "I was a little afraid you would have a heart attack if you ever learned your precious baby was trying to have a baby of her own."
"Katniss' not my baby." he grumbled. "She's a pain in my ass."
"Of course, she is." Effie humored him. "And she is also as good as your daughter which makes you a honorary grandfather."
His eyes widened again. He hadn't considered the problem under that angle yet.
"I need stronger stuff." he winced, glaring at the glass of liquor in his hand as if it had betrayed him.
"You need to act like an adult and accept the children are all grown up." she laughed. "This is a happy thing."
"We'll see if you're still be so happy when the kid calls you grandma." he challenged.
Now it was her turn to make a face and look disgruntled.
Fair was fair, in his opinion.
28. "Marry me ?"
Twenty-five years in Twelve and she still wasn't used to the harsh winters. It had only grown worse as she had gotten older. The cold seemed to go straight to her bones now, settle there and make her shiver for hours despite the complex heating system the children had insisted they bought. The house was warmer than it used to be, true enough, but there was only so much you could do when it was surrounded by mountains of snow all around.
She used to be terrified of being cut from the rest of the world like this, not even able to walk over to the children's because the snow was too high, but now she found it peaceful.
She settled on the couch next to Haymitch who was dozing off a little, waking up every time his head nodded down too much only to start staring into nothing. She picked up her knitting and ignored the pain in her stiff fingers. Arthritis, the doctor had said.
Age, she had answered.
Sometimes she couldn't believe they had gotten so lucky as to live so old. Haymitch was on medication for his liver now as was only to be expected. She would never say but she wasn't certain they would have many years left. Time flew those days. She was grateful for every minute.
"Sweetheart…" he mumbled. She looked up at him, a questioning spark in her eyes. "Marry me?"
She thought she had heard him wrong at first but he was actually serious. It was all over his face.
"Why now?" she frowned. "It has been… forty years." Three years of hating and loathing, ten years of a no-string attached affair, two years of limbo after the war and twenty five years of sharing a house. "Our whole life is behind us."
"There's still a little to come." he shrugged. "And… I don't know. Why not?"
They were at an age where why not was reason enough to do things.
"When?" she asked.
"Well, we've got a fire… There's bread in the kitchen…" he joked, his eyes twinkling with the same mischievous spark that was always dancing there in his youth. "Now looks good. We're not getting any younger."
She placed her knitting back in the basket. "I will get the bread."
30. "It's not what it looks like…"
"It's not what it looks like…" Effie breathed out, frozen in place, and Haymitch stared at her with incredulity.
So did Peeta.
Then again, was it really supposed to be convincing? When he was bare-chested, when her blouse was open, when neither of them had shoes on and, more importantly, when her hand was so obviously inside his unzipped pants and down his boxers?
Maybe it would have been wiser to not do that on the couch.
"I have seen nothing." the boy declared, blushing crimson, once he had picked up his jaw from the floor. "I have seen nothing. I know nothing. This never happened."
Peeta fled as if mutts were running after him.
Haymitch couldn't blame him.
32. "I think I'm in love with you and I'm terrified."
Her bedroom was bathed with the flickering lights from the city spilling from the window. Effie was toying with the idea of getting up and drawing the curtains close but she was afraid she would wake up Haymitch. He had stumbled drunk in her room, had climbed in her bed refusing to explain why he was upset and had snuggled up to her before falling asleep right there. He had been snoring ever since.
She should have protested. He would be angry when he would wake up, blame her for this probably… He would punch a wall before admitting he could need her at all, even if it was his wasted self talking.
She didn't know what they were doing, what she was doing.
She was lost.
"I think I'm in love with you…" she whispered. "… and I'm terrified."
Her only answer was a snore.
35. "You heard me. Take. It. Off."
"You heard me." he growled, way past being amused by her stubbornness. "Take. It. Off."
"No." she hissed for the tenth time, clinging to her wig with both hands. "I will wear the uniform if I must but I am not taking my wig off. No, Haymitch."
"Thirteen has rules." he repeated. "You can't…"
"I don't care!" she shouted.
He rubbed his face, sensing that was an argument that could go on all day long.
37. "Wanna dance?"
There was something deeply endearing to Haymitch when he looked this ill-at-ease and Effie took great pain in hiding her fond smile, knowing he wouldn't appreciate it.
"Is everything alright?" she asked innocently.
He had dragged his feet all the way from Twelve to the Capitol about this celebration. The ball celebrating the tenth anniversary of the rebellion was a huge thing and none of them had been able to make their escape – well, she could have, she wasn't even on the guest lists, for some reason escorts weren't considered celebratory-worthy, but she was Haymitch's plus one and it had been made clear he wouldn't attend without her.
"Yeah." he shrugged. "Just Plutarch and boring talk." He shuffled on his feet a little and then shrugged again, outstretching a hand. "Wanna dance?"
"Are you sure?" she asked, not to be mean but so they would be on the same page. Their relationship had been kept low key. Of course everyone in Panem knew she was living with him in Twelve – in sin, no less – but they had never publicly confirmed anything and when they were outside of the Village, where paparazzi could actually legally get to them, they were always careful not to betray anything. It was a life ingrained habit to hide everything.
If they danced together, there would be pictures, speculations, talks…
"They can fuck themselves, Princess." he grumbled. "I wanna dance with my girl."
The smile burst on her lips before she could tame it. Those words always filled her with glee and pride. She liked it when he called her his girl.
"In this case…" she grinned, placing her hand in his.
He smirked back when he led her to the dance floor.
She didn't even noticed the flashes of the various cameras. She was lost in his gaze. As it should be.
38. "You fainted…straight into my arms. You know, if you wanted my attention you didn't have to go to such extremes."
She blinked a few times, blinded by the harsh lights overheard. She heard distorted voices. After a few moments faces appeared, hovering over her, and she realized she was lying on the floor. She tried to get up but hands immediately held her down.
"Take it easy, Effie." Cinna said, not unkindly.
"You scared us." Portia chided her.
"What… What happened?" she stuttered.
"You fainted, sweetheart." Haymitch snorted, carefully helping her to sit up. "Straight into my arms. You know, if you wanted my attention you didn't have to go to such extremes."
"Your attention…" she repeated, trying and failing to find a witty reply. She brought her hand to her forehead. "I am afraid I am a little tired."
"You're overdoing it, that's what you are." Haymitch grumbled. "This tour will be the end of you."
This Victory Tour, she suspected, would be the end of them all.
49. "Well this is awkward…"
"Well…" Plutarch coughed. "This is awkward."
Haymitch snatched the bra dangling from the Gamemaker's fingers, cursing fate that of all the people in Thirteen he had ended up having to share a room with him. "None of your business."
"Absolutely." Plutarch agreed and managed to keep a straight face for exactly ten seconds. "I suppose it belongs to Miss Trinket though. Or are you into cross-dressing?"
"I am into punching you in the face if you keep it up." he grumbled, shoving the bra under his bed's blankets.
Out of sight, out of mind.
51. "What the hell are you wearing?"
"What do you think of this design, Haymitch?"
Haymitch didn't look up, he kept his eyes on the crosswords he was balancing on his knee, distractedly tapping the pencil against his lips. "Ugly."
He was happy she had found something to occupy her time in Twelve, even if it meant she locked herself in the study turned work room for hours at a time when she was actually putting one of her sketches together, but he could never claim to understand or reconcile with Capitol fashion. Even toned down.
"You didn't even look." she protested.
"Don't need to." he mumbled, scribbling down the answer to one of the definitions.
"It was a surprise for you." she insisted with a pout. "You are really the worst man in the world."
"Sure 'am." he nodded absentmindedly, not even listening to a word she was saying.
"Well then." she huffed. "I suppose I am going to find someone else to show this to."
He did look up then, to remind her to take her coat because it might be warm now but the temperature would drop quickly, and he simply… gaped. "What the hell are you wearing?"
It was a body like suit made entirely out of late that hid nothing from view but clung to her curves exactly where it should. The laced designs were blue and gold and they did nothing to cover her nipples or her mount.
"I wanted to try my hand at lingerie." she replied casually. "But since you are not interested…"
He had never jumped from a couch so fast in his life.
56. "I can't stand the thought of losing you."
"You need to be more careful."
Haymitch's voice was flat but Effie couldn't exactly blame him. She took a drag of her cigarette with shaking fingers, shivering in the cold night air. She wanted to point out secret meetings on the roof late at night weren't exactly inconspicuous either. It was obvious they wanted to avoid the bugs.
"The team thing, the matching tokens, the way you act…" he went on. "It doesn't exactly scream Capitol loyalist, sweetheart."
"Are you worried I will be in trouble when you disappear?" she chuckled more bitterly than she would have liked.
He was too good at this to betray any sign of surprise but his eyes did dart to her brutally and it confirmed everything she was suspecting. He was certain there was a rebellion in the work and she was also certain he was part of it.
He remained silent and she shook her head, bringing the cigarette to her lips again.
"I can't stand the thought of losing you." she admitted in a whisper.
"Who says you will?" he snorted. "Maybe I'll kidnap you. Ever thought of that? Could get a good ransom out of you."
She didn't dare call his bluff.
She hoped he wasn't actually bluffing.
58. "I'd die for you. Of course, I'd haunt you in the afterlife but really, it's the thought that counts."
Haymitch rolled his eyes when the main character of the movie Effie was forcing them to watch delivered yet another corny line.
"Come on." he scoffed, stealing the spoon from her hand. She struggled a little for it but eventually relented to share the spoon and the bowl of ice cream. "I'd die for you? Is there something any more cliché to say to someone?"
"I would die for you." she retorted, snatching the spoon and the ice cream back. She licked the almost melted ice cream from the spoon before shrugging. "Of course, I would haunt you in the afterlife but, really, it's the thought that counts."
He snorted and accepted the peck she pressed on his lips.
61. "I love you. I'm completely and utterly in love with you. Please don't get married."
She was radiant.
He had always found her gorgeous, even with the stupid make-up, wigs and awful dresses but, today, she was radiant. Being told he was losing his escort by an impersonal phone call from Head Gamemaker Torello had been a blow. Getting an invitation to her wedding had been another.
He lingered on the threshold of the room he was certain he had no business sneaking in, watching the flock of little girls running around her legs while two other Capitol women adjusted the dress and the wig on her.
He had expected her to go all out on her wedding day but he was actually surprised by her choice of dress. It was toned down by Capitol standards – still impressive and probably at the height of fashion but toned down – the make-up too was left to a minimum. She was clearly aiming at an "innocent" look. She was beautiful.
One of the child spotted him and shrieked and soon, all eyes were on him. One of the women – he thought it was her sister – tried to usher him out but Effie stopped her quietly.
"Can you give us a minute?" she requested and, since she was the bride and it was her day, everyone hurried in obeying her wishes. He was aware of the door being quietly closed behind him but it barely registered. He was staring at her and nothing else existed. She licked her red painted lips and started playing with the huge ring on her left hand. "I am happy to see you! I didn't think you would come."
The cheer in her voice was as fake as could be.
"Got a travel permit from Torello." he mumbled. "I'm going to met new possible escorts." It was awkward. So awkward. "I'm not staying for the wedding."
"I don't understand." she frowned. "You came."
"I'm not watching you marrying someone else, sweetheart." he snapped. "I'm not watching you becoming a trophy wife to a rich jerk who doesn't deserve you."
"Why did you come then?" she retorted. "To mock me? To upset me on my wedding day?"
"I came to…" he started and then cut himself off, forcing himself to calm down. "Just wanted to say…" I love you. I'm utterly and completely in love with you. Please don't get married. "Good luck."
"Oh." she breathed out and he wondered if he was imagining her disappointment. "Thank you."
He nodded once and turned away, forcing himself not to look back.
It was better like that anyway.
62. "It's only one night, we'll just share the bed."
"They put me with a family of four." Effie said before even asking if he was alright. She looked frayed at the edge though, her eyes darting around the bomb shelter in obvious dread of what was going to happen.
He shared a look with Beetee who was already settled on his bunk bed and then shrugged. "Stay with us then."
She hesitated even though it had clearly been her aim in coming there. "Won't we be short of space?"
"It's only one night." he lied. It wouldn't be just one night but he didn't want her to panic more than necessary. "We'll just share the bed." She made a displeased pout and he rolled his eyes. "Look, it's either sharing with me or you can cuddle with Beetee, okay? Or you can go back to your own bed."
"I will share with you." she said quickly, flashing an apologizing smile at Three's victor. "I mean no offence, Beetee."
"None taken." his friend offered.
67. "Of all the people I could've gotten stuck in an elevator with and it just had to be you."
"Relax, Trinket." Haymitch mocked, leaning against the wall. "What's your deal? Afraid of closed spaces?"
Effie wasn't, in fact, afraid of closed spaces. She just disliked being trapped in an elevator that was stuck between the tenth and eleventh floor. What if it went down? What if it crashed?
She could already see the headline of the newspapers: Brand New Escort Dies On The Job.
"I am not talking to you until you apologize for the way you spoke to me earlier." she informed him.
She had been warned Haymitch Abernathy would be difficult, she had been ready for it. It turned out he wasn't difficult. He was downright impossible.
"I'm gonna get some peace and quiet then." he chuckled. "'Cause I'm not gonna apologize for calling you a bitch." She pursed her lips and pointedly turned away from him. It only made him chuckle harder. "You're such a child, Princess. You're never going to survive out there. They'll eat you up and spit you out. I'm betting you're going to quit before the end of the season."
"Of all the people I could have gotten stuck in an elevator with, it just had to be you!" she snarled. "Can't you be quiet, Haymitch? Do you have to make this harder than it already is?"
"Kittens has claws." he snickered and she wondered if he was drunker than she had thought. "Cute."
She turned around again and this time, she completely ignored him.
He didn't deserve her attention.
69. "Why the hell are you bleeding!?"
"Why the hell are you bleeding?"
Haymitch startled at her shriek and glanced at her. She was standing on the bathroom threshold, frozen. He reached for the towel and dabbed at his throat, pressing hard on the small cut.
"I'm not bleeding." he grumbled. "I'm shaving. Trying to. Drop it."
It took a minute for her to stop staring and to move closer. She took the towel from him and nudged his chin up so she could take a look at the cut.
"It is not too deep." she declared, brushing trembling fingers over the wound.
"I'm fine." he sighed. "It's just the tremors."
"I hate to see you hurt." she whispered.
"Shaving cut." he snorted. "Hell of a battle scar."
She dropped a kiss right under his jaw, just above the cut.
"I don't want you to have battle scars." she whispered. "You already have enough of them."
76. "I need you to pretend we're dating…"
"I need you to pretend we're dating."
Haymitch wouldn't lie, those weren't the first words he had expected her to say after almost a whole year of silence. Finding Effie Trinket on his doorstep hadn't been a huge surprise. The war had been over for a long time now but he knew through various trusted sources she wasn't exactly dealing well with everything that had happened.
"Pretend." he repeated.
He didn't even care about the how or the why. There was one word in that sentence he didn't like.
"You don't date." she reminded him, clearing her throat and looking down.
"Don't go out of my way for Capitols either." he pointed out. "You always were an exception, yeah?"
She frowned a little, studying him. "Are you saying you want us to date?"
"You want us to date apparently." he shrugged.
They stared at each other for a long time.
Haymitch wasn't sure they weren't in a dead end.
80. "How can you think I'm anything but hopelessly in love with you?
The house felt hostile, the air still charged with the fight they had an hour earlier.
Effie finished wiping the kitchen counter and sighed. Anger had deserted her now and she felt mostly… hollow. They were used to fights but this one had been big and it had escalated out of nothing. She had laughed it off at first, as she was prone to do, when Haymitch had started grumbling about the man flirting with her at the market. He was insistent she had been flirting back and although she had denied when he had first made the accusation she was now thinking… maybe she had. She was a flirty person. He knew that. But his anger had only increased and increased… Nasty words had been tossed… The past had been unburied from where it had been laying dormant and now it was a huge mess.
She wasn't exactly hurt by everything he had thrown in her face – she was too used to it and she had retorted with her own nasty insults – but it all left a bad taste in her mouth.
With another sigh she glanced through the window over the sink, checking Haymitch was still standing by the pen watching his geese. She wrapped a pink woolen shawl around her shoulders before heading out.
She knew he heard her footsteps because he tensed.
"Come back inside." she requested softly. "Let's have lunch and forget about this."
"Maybe you could have lunch with your other boyfriend." he muttered with obvious irritation.
"Will you stop." she snapped. "Haymitch, I left everything behind to come and live here. Do you truly think I would leave you now for a man with furry eyebrows? Do you think you are so easily replaceable to me? Honestly. How can you think I'm anything but hopelessly in love with you? Haven't I proven it enough times? What should I do? Brand it on my forehead? Truly."
She was infuriated again and she turned around with a huff.
She didn't go far.
He grabbed her arm and held her back. There was still a sulk on his face but he also looked a little more sheepish.
"His eyebrows were furry." he mumbled "And I'm hungry. Let's have lunch."
85. "I will never apologize for saving your life, even if it costs me my own."
"Aren't you afraid they will brand you a traitor?" she asked somehow bitter. "Perhaps you should just let it go, Haymitch. Accept it. I am guilty of what they accuse me of after all."
He stopped pacing and turned around to glare at her. She met it without flinching, sitting cross-legged on her hospital bed.
"Let them brand me a traitor." he scoffed. "Let them try."
"What if they do though." she insisted "I don't want you to get in trouble on my behalf. You should just… You should just have left me die in this cell."
"I will never apologize for saving your life, even if it costs my own." he snapped. "Don't talk like that, Effie. I didn't get you out of there just so this stupid bitch can have you tried and killed."
86. "I guess dying with you isn't the worse way to go." (zombie verse)
They were trapped.
The barn was secured for now but it wouldn't last, not with the herd passing by. The structure kept shaking from the strength of them. Effie was scared they would raze it to the ground.
It was supposed to be a simple run for more food. The herd had come out of nowhere and they had barely managed to find refuge in the old structure on the side of the road. They had climbed on the upper level for safety but it wouldn't help if the barn went down. She was scared for the children too. The herd was moving in their direction. Would they be able to escape in time?
The barn shook harder and she snuggled closer to Haymitch's side, burying her face in his shoulder and closing her eyes.
"I don't regret anything." she whispered. "If we die today… I want you to know. I don't regret anything. I love you. I am grateful for the time we had. It was a good run."
"I'd regret dying." he scoffed.
The whole barn seemed to sag one way and then the other and she clung to him for balance as well as in fear.
"I will kill myself before they can get to me." she warned him. She did not want to become one of them and she did not want to still be alive when they would…
"Let's not do anything rash." he tempered. "But if it comes down to that… I'm with you there. I guess dying with you isn't the worse way to go."
89. "I'm not leaving you!"
"I'm not leaving you!" she hissed, throwing wary glances at the surrounding rebels.
There were two hovercrafts ready to depart and people in grey uniform were wandering about, keeping a security perimeter in case Peacekeepers showed up. She didn't trust any of them. She didn't trust anyone but Haymitch and he wanted to park in a hovercraft with other refugees that would take them straight to the secret rebellion headquarters while he took the other. She was having none of it.
"You're doing as you're told." he retorted.
"I am coming with you." she insisted. "The children will need me. You…"
"It's too fucking dangerous, Effie." he snapped. "We could be blown out off the sky. I won't risk you."
"But you think I would risk you?" she huffed. "You think I wouldn't take the risks for you? For the children? I am not leaving you. End of discussion."
"Listen to me and listen fast." he growled. "You think I won't have you sedated? Think again. You're getting on that hovercraft. I'll see you in… I'll see you there. With the kids."
"Haymitch…" she tried again.
"No." he cut her off. "Get on board or get sedated. Your choice."
He stormed away and she was left standing there, staring at his retreating back until a soldier ushered her to the refugees' hovercraft.
He hadn't even said goodbye.
94. "I bet I can make you scream my name."
"I'm just saying, sweetheart." he chuckled, petting her hair. "The walls are paper thin in this place. You might want to keep it down next time. Don't fancy getting a speech from one of the soldiers about this."
She pouted and propped her chin on his chest so he could see she was glaring at him. There were a lot of things to hate in Thirteen. The fact that she was apparently too loud was one more.
"Why am I the only one who should keep it down?" she sulked. "Why are you not concerned by this new rule of yours?"
"'Cause I'm never loud." he shrugged.
And he had a point. He groaned and grunted and sometimes moaned but it never equated with her screams and whimpers and cries.
"I like being loud." she grumbled.
"I like when you're loud." he smirked, his fingers leaving her hair to trail down her spine. "But here…"
"Being loud is a sign of appreciation." she cut him off with a suspicious frown. "Which begs the question… Why aren't you?"
"Control." he snorted. "A thing I have in plenty and you don't."
"Control." she repeated flatly, hooking her leg over his. "I bet I could make you lose control if I truly applied myself." She dropped kisses down his chest, shimming down the bed until her head was the level of his hips. "I bet I can make you scream my name, Haymitch."
"You missed the part about we need to keep it down?" he deadpanned.
But then she used her whole bag of tricks and he did end up shouting her name. And, of course, a soldier did end up hammering on the door to ask them to keep it low or else.
96. "I never thought you'd hurt me but I was wrong. You hurt me the most."
What did you say at the end of all things?
As he stood there, in front of the half-closed door of her apartment, the question was turning and turning in his mind. He understood why she didn't want to see him, it didn't even occur to him to beg for forgiveness. It was his fault if the Capitol had taken her. It was his fault if she had been tortured. All of this was his fault.
He had respected her wishes, he had kept his distance… But now he was about to leave for Twelve and…
There were things he needed to say. Things that were important. And he stood there, mute, staring at her.
Because what did you say at the end of all things?
It seemed she knew.
"I always knew you would hurt me." she snorted, hugging herself. "I always knew. And I stayed anyway. How stupid is that?"
"I never thought you'd hurt me but I was wrong." he shrugged. "You hurt me the most."
She lifted her eyebrows and swallowed hard, quickly schooling her features into detachment. "How nice."
"Only people you love can really hurt you." he said quietly, shaking his head. "I shouldn't have come, sweetheart. Sorry. Just wanted to say… Goodbye, I guess."
He turned around and strode to the elevator. He pushed the button and buried his hands in his pockets.
"Haymitch." Her fingers coiled around his forearm. "I am not promising anything and I can't say I am ready to forgive but… Don't be a stranger, will you?"
It was more than he had hoped for, more than he deserved probably, but he was a selfish man and so he would take it.