Prompt: After ages, I finally came up with a prompt for the queen. It's movie verse, I hope you don't mind. Could you write about the moment Haymitch looks at Effie during the Odesta wedding? Does she notice it? What does she feel? What does he feel? Things like that? The look is my favorite moment from the movie after the kiss. Thanks a bunch, you're awesome !

Weddings Get You Thinking

Haymitch had been staring at her all night and Effie wasn't sure what to make of it. His face was blank and she couldn't quite tell what he was thinking. He was just… staring.

She ignored it, at first. She fussed over the newlyweds, ran around to make sure everything was going as planned, kept an eye on the clock to make sure the cake would come out at the right moment… There were a million of details to check and organizing big events was her thing, she loved it. She excelled at it.

It was easy to ignore Haymitch and his staring.

Or, at least, it was easy to pretend to.

It had started during the ceremony, during the vows, and it had been going on since then. She could feel his eyes on her, following her, studying her…

Perhaps it was the dress, she thought at some point, nervously sipping from her glass of tepid cider, smoothing the pink taffetas with her free hand. She stood out like a sore thumb amongst the grey uniforms and he hated it when she brought attention to herself like that in there. He insisted she was playing with fire by having her own private rebellion over fashion… He insisted his protection only went so far and that if President Coin decided she was fed up with her…

And he was probably right.

That woman hated her guts, Effie could tell.

So, perhaps it was the dress. Perhaps he didn't like the fact she was wearing what was unmistakably a reminder of the Capitol. Perhaps he disapproved the big puffy hairstyle she had gone for – not her best one, clearly, but she had done what she could with her limited resources. Perhaps he simply hated her attempt at looking more like the flamboyant escort and less like her plain ugly self.

She didn't think he understood how hard it was for her to live day after day without her armor of bright fabrics, her make-up and her wigs. She needed her masks. She needed her public persona. She needed…

She took another sip of cider and decided it didn't matter what he liked, didn't like, approved of or disapproved of or even hated. She felt good in her pink dress. Not quite beautiful – not as beautiful as she could have been if she had been allowed access to make-up – but good. She felt more like herself. She could smile and laugh and play at being dumb all she wanted. She looked the part.

She looked around the dance floor for Johanna, wondering if the victor had managed to get in touch with the black market that refugees from other Districts had going on. Very few people would sell her anything but she was dying for a smoke. If anyone could get her some cigarettes, it would be Johanna Mason.

"What are you plotting?"

She startled and shot Haymitch a reproaching look. "Do not sneak on people. It is ill-bred."

He rolled his eyes at her, plucked the cup from her fingers, downed what was left of it, and put it down on a random table, before outstretching his hand. She looked at it for several seconds and then took it, not quite sure what he wanted.

It was only when he tugged her toward the dance floor that she realized the band had stopped playing the lively songs from Twelve. A few couples were slow-dancing now, and, although his intent was clear, she still froze. He was held back by their locked hands and he glanced over his shoulder with a small frown. "What?"

"You want to dance." she stated.

"Yeah." he shrugged, his frown deepening. There was a hint of a blush on his cheeks and neck but she knew better than drawing attention to that.

"With me." she clarified. He lifted his eyebrows, shooting her the I can't believe you're so stupid, sweetheart look he had refined in the last thirteen years. She didn't let that trouble her. "In public."

"We danced together plenty of times in public." he scoffed. "What's new?"

That was absolutely true and it was also a very good point. They had waltzed and they had slow danced quite a few numbers of times.

"Never at a wedding." she countered. "And never… I am your escort. It wasn't unexpected for us to dance together at Games parties."

"We've never been to a wedding together." he sighed. "And you're still my escort, yeah? What's the deal, here? You don't wanna dance?"

"Of course, I want to dance." she retorted. "But, Haymitch, this is quite a different social scene. People will assume I am your date."

They were back to the staring, it seemed, because he was studying her, not even blinking. Eventually, he shrugged again. "We came together."

"Well… Yes." she admitted. "But…"

"We're gonna leave together." he cut her off.

She opened and closed her mouth because nothing of that sort had been decided – although the chances that they would eventually sneak out to one of their compartments to have sex were high given their history.

"It is presumptuous of you to assume so." she hissed.

He ignored it.

"Kinda makes you my date, no?" he declared.

Without further ado, he tugged her in the direction of the dance floor once again. She was so flabbergasted by what he had just said that she simply let him, automatically wrapping her arms around his neck when they reached it. He held her tight and they swayed to the music for a while.

She was tense.

She didn't want to be because she usually enjoyed dancing with Haymitch. She loved dancing and he didn't humor her often enough in her opinion but this, right then… She felt as if the whole room was watching them, judging them. Well… Judging him.

"Relax, sweetheart." he whispered in her ear.

His left hand left her waist and ran up her spine to briefly squeeze her nape. She loved it when he did that and it did help her relax a little. It had started as a possessive thing, a claim of some sort, but over the years it had become comforting, something he did when he knew she was upset or just because he…

She cut off that train of thoughts.

"What are we playing at?" she asked, propping her chin on his shoulder.

"We're dancing." he grumbled.

"Yes, but why?" she insisted, keeping her voice casual, almost cheerful.

There must have been a plan in place she wasn't aware about. Haymitch hardly did anything without a reason. There was no good reason for him to invite her to dance. None. It would have been different if she had demanded he danced with her – she might have implied she wouldn't have sex with him otherwise and he would have caved, that would have been a good reason. All the staring and the sudden request for a dance... Something was up.

He hesitated long enough that her suspicions were confirmed and she braced herself for bad news. Maybe Coin had had enough of her and wanted to have her thrown in a cell and publicly associating with her was a way of preventing that… Maybe he was making a point… Maybe he was trying to escape one of the women who kept flirting with him – although she didn't think he had noticed all the flirting attempts…

"Cause I wanted to." he muttered with a half shrug, sounding irritated – which meant he was embarrassed, which made even less sense.

"People are going to assume…" she countered.

"Effie, half the District already knows we're sleeping together." he cut her off. "Let them think what they want. Who cares?"

She remained silent for a while, adjusting her grip on his neck, and closing her eyes to better listen to the music. She did love dancing with him…

"You usually do." she pointed out eventually, in a low whisper.

He had always been adamant nobody should find out about them. And she had been happy to roll with that for her own selfish reasons. It was dangerous to flaunt their relationship, she knew that. And it wasn't even a relationship, more of a casual agreement. And… It helped her pretend she was removed from the situation, that she still viewed it as an easy way to get good sex and not…

"Things change." he mumbled.

Her heart started racing in her chest a second before she registered what he had just admitted.

"Do they?" she hummed, a bit out of breath, not quite daring to hope. "Is that what all the staring was about? There is nothing else happening I should know about? You are just acting like this because… Because of us and not because of some secret you are not allowed to talk to me about?" He licked his lips and kept his gaze firmly averted, until she cupped his cheek. His beard itched against her palm. She understood why he couldn't shave, the tremors in his fingers were bad, but the beard needed to go at some point. She hated it and she wanted the stubble back. "Haymitch, tell me."

His grey eyes scooped around the room before meeting hers.

He shrugged.

He was aiming for detached but she could tell he was nervous. She knew him by heart. She knew him better than anyone else.

"It's just… Weddings… Gets you thinking, you know?" he sighed.

If her heart had been racing before, it was nothing compared to now.

She forced herself to play it cool, though. One wrong word and he would run away. He was commitment phobic on the best day.

"I suppose." she hummed, pressing herself tighter against him. Her aim was to distract him a little, to remind him of what would be happening as soon as they escaped the party… "What does it make you think about?"

"Nothing much." he replied, a tad defensive. "Just… You know… Stuff."

"How eloquent." she chuckled.

He rolled his eyes at her.

"Stuff like… Who you see yourself spending the rest of your life with." he admitted in a rush of muttered words that would have made no sense at all if she hadn't been so practiced at deciphering his slurred drunken rants. "Like… Suddenly you're thinking about the future for the first time in forever and… It's obvious who you want there." He cleared his throat. "That kind of stuff."

"Do I dare ask?" she grinned.

He looked a bit nauseous. "Don't push it."

She took pity on him, mainly because she was far too happy to ask for more. It was already far much more than she had ever expected or hoped for. "May I kiss you?"

He looked uncomfortable. "In front of people?"

"You should get used to it if you are to spend the rest of your life with me." she teased.

His wincing was hilarious. "Effie…"

"I am joking. Do not fret so." she laughed, brushing her nose against his cheek so she could whisper in his ear. "I am, however, going to ravish you. I should warn you we are going to have very dirty sex tonight, Haymitch. Are you certain you are in this for the long haul?"

She stepped outside the circle of his arms and sauntered away without glancing back, making sure to swing her hips that little bit more than usual.

She made it as far as three corridors away before being grabbed around the waist and pushed in the nearest empty room.

It answered her question though.