Prompt: A prompt post-mj with a Effie having problems with her hairs, like she couldn't shave in prison so she became obsessed with being always shaved and Haymitch comforting her? Xx

I'll be publishing slightly earlier than usual all week because of stuff ;) Let me know what you think!

All Smooth

The sloshing sound of the water distracted him from his reflection in the mirror and he glanced over his shoulder at the woman lazing around in his bathtub. Still brushing his teeth, he leaned against the sink and watched her as she lifted a leg out of the water and propped it against the edge of the tub before grabbing the pink razor that perpetually resided amongst the bottles that now colonized the side of the bathtub.

"Don't you wax?" he mumbled around the head of the toothbrush.

He should have kept his mouth shut probably. There were topics Effie didn't think proper to talk about – not that he had ever cared about that.

He distinctly remembered there had been a lot of ranting on her part last month when she had tried and failed to find a beauty salon in Twelve. He remembered telling her to get over herself and go to the local hairdresser if she wanted to be pampered so much and he remembered her beating around the bush a lot before finally screaming at him that she needed personal grooming – which had been enough to make him stutter and stammer like an idiot because it belonged to the range of lady things that he had never wanted to think about before and that he had been steadily getting acquainted with since she had moved in two months earlier. He hadn't seen any problems at the time on that front but he had wisely held his tongue and refrained from commenting because commenting on lady things when you were living with a woman, he had quickly found out, often led to days of turned backs at night.

"Do not talk with your mouth full of toothpaste, you will spit some everywhere!" she scolded him. "Honestly, Haymitch! You are not a child. You should know not to behave like one."

He rolled his eyes and spat the toothpaste in the sink. "What would you complain about then, sweetheart?" It warranted him a glare that he ignored by wiping his face with the towel that now hung on the small rack next to the sink and that was exclusively meant to wipe hands and faces – he had never bothered before but apparently he had been living like a savage and had needed Effie Trinket to show him the light. "So? What are you doing with that thing?"

She pursed her lips and carefully ran the blade of the razor along her glistening shin, obviously not willing to answer that question. He frowned and wandered closer, sitting down on the edge next to her foot. He coiled his fingers around her ankle but she shook him off.

"Don't touch." she warned.

Annoyance flared in his chest.

"Fine." he spat. "If you're in that sort of mood…"

He stood up, intending on storming downstairs where there was a bottle of liquor with his name on it, but she reached out and grabbed his wrist before he could take more than a step, accidentally splashing water on the floor.

"I didn't mean it like that." she said quietly.

"No?" he scoffed. "How did you mean it like then?"

He let her tug him into sitting back on the edge of the tub but didn't stop sulking until she nuzzled his side with her nose. His lips twitched, his irritation fading faced with the slow cunning grin that usually promised sweet tortures.

"Go to bed." she suggested. "This won't take long."

Her hair was pinned up high on her head in a messy bun and he wanted nothing more than tug the hair tie free but he knew she would start screaming bloody murder if he got her hair wet. He wrapped his hand around her nape instead, his thumb running up and down the side of her neck.

"Don't think this is an emergency." he mocked, leaning in to steal a kiss that immediately turned messy. "I'm an emergency."

"You are insufferable." she retorted against his lips. "That is what you are."

"Whatever you say, Princess." he taunted, using the grip on her neck to angle her face the way he wanted it so he could deepen the kiss even more. His free hand slipped beneath the water and found her leg.

She jerked and drew back from the kiss, immediately biting down on her bottom lip when he frowned.

"I really need to do this first, Haymitch." she insisted, her cheeks flushing red. "I am not… I am not…"

"You're not what?" he asked more gently than he usually would because he was starting to think he had missed something there.

She opened and closed her mouth a few times and then looked away, hugging her legs close to her chest.

"Perfect?" she offered hesitantly after a few seconds.

He shook his head, not even trying to resist the urge to roll his eyes. "What's that supposed to mean?"

She kept her eyes averted, clearly uncomfortable. "I am not perfectly groomed."

He blinked and blinked again for good measure.

"Effie, we fucked last night. Pretty sure you were… You know." he pointed out.

"But I had made sure everything was smooth last night." she argued. "Now… Now it is not so smooth anymore."

Everything looked and seemed smooth to him.

He cupped her chin and forced her to look up at him. "Spill it, sweetheart."

"It is nothing." she sighed, covering his hand with hers and nudging it away from her face. "I just… When I got out of the cells it had been months and… They wouldn't let me shave in the hospital." She snorted bitterly. "Imagine trusting the escort with a blade. Why, they must have thought I would either cut my wrists open or try to murder them all." She shook her head. "I cannot remember having had a misplaced hair on my body since the first time Mother took me to my first waxing appointment when I was twelve. I cannot stand the idea that… Hairs do not belong on my body. I don't want you to…"

She stopped and shrugged, betraying by that small gesture how upset she actually was.

"Okay…" he said, his voice trailing off a little. "You're obsessing over this. You're fine right now, I swear." He placed his hand on her knee and when she didn't bat it away, ran it down under the water line all the way to her ankle and back up. "All smooth."

"Is it?" she pouted. "I am really not convinced. Wouldn't you like it better if…"

"No." he cut her off. "'Cause you don't need it." He repeated the process with her other leg, a smirk slowly stretching his lips. "See? All smooth."

When he nudged her legs open, she let him and his smirk widened. Her breath caught when he touched her in all the ways she liked best and she licked her lips, watching him with rapidly darkening eyes. "And there?"

"I think I need a closer look, sweetheart." he teased. "You're ready to get out of that bath yet?"

She stood up quickly, not even bothering to empty the bathtub and he snorted at her eagerness. He wrapped her in a towel before she could run into the bedroom though because it wasn't that warm and he didn't want to catch a cold walking around completely drenched.

"You're ridiculous." he declared, pressing a kiss against the side of her neck as he helped her – or got in the way with his wandering hands – while she toweled herself dry.

"You love me for it." she retorted automatically, turning her head to grin at him.

He captured her mouth under his and tortured her until she gasped for air.

Was there any other answer to give?