Prompt: Hey, recently we learnt that Effie drools in her sleep in your hc. Could you please publish something in HADS where they talk about it and where Effie is totally in denial? An funny one? Thank you in advance, I hope you'll bookmark this prompt.

Drool

Effie hummed a little as she gradually woke up, automatically curling up closer to the source of warmth next to her. She sneaked her hand under his shirt, almost purring in contentment when she found warm skin under her palm. Her hair was being petted slowly and it was so relaxing she almost fell right back to sleep.

She decided the temperature was tolerable for once. It wasn't as toasty as she would have liked under the blankets but it was better than what it would have been if Haymitch hadn't been there with her. Thirteen was always freezing. And Effie hated being cold. It was one of the perks of his somewhat disconcerting new habit of spending the night with her every time he could, no matter if they had sex or not: he kept her warm.

"Morning." Haymitch said and she could hear the smirk in his voice.

She didn't open her eyes just yet. She was feeling too good in her cocoon, she would have loved to be able to send the rest of the world to hell and stay in bed for the rest of the day. She stretched a little but immediately curled up again, snuggling close to his side.

He sounded too awake though. She wondered if he had even slept. Without alcohol… He was having trouble at night – and she figured that was part of the reason why he had chosen now to acknowledge that their relationship was more than just sex, that they could find another kind of comfort in each other.

"Were you watching me sleep?" she asked, nuzzling his neck.

She let out a small groan at the rough feeling. She could live with the stubble but she couldn't live with the beard. It needed to go. Soon. And if he didn't trust his own hands enough to shave, she would do it for him. She wouldn't take no for an answer this time.

"Kinda." he snorted.

"That is romantic of you." she commented, surprised but pleased by the admission. She hadn't been expecting that. She drew lazy circles on his stomach with her thumb, wondering how best to repay that confession.

"Yeah?" His tone was teasing, he playfully tugged on a strand of hair. "I've been wondering how someone so tiny can drool so much…"

It took a second for that to register but when it did… She used the hand on his chest to prop herself up in a sitting position – and ignored his huff of pain – to better glare down at him.

"I do not drool!" she hissed.

He rolled his eyes but there was a twinkle in his gaze and he was still smirking. She had to suppress the urge to hit him with the pillow – one of them had to act like a grown-up, no matter how tempting it would be to smother him.

"Relax, sweetheart." he snorted. "Always thought it was kind of cute."

"Always?" she scoffed, vexed. "I have never drooled in my sleep, Haymitch. Never."

"The wet spot on my shoulder says otherwise." he mocked.

There was indeed a dark stain on Haymitch's shirt.

She flushed so badly her cheeks burned.

"I… It is this District playing tricks on me." she scowled, defensively folding her arms in front of her chest. "It is so cold. I am sure it is linked. And…"

"You've been doing that for years." he cut her off. "It's fine."

"I haven't!" she denied. "You are lying to rile me up and I won't have it!"

"Come on, it's not that bad…" he chuckled. "At least when you drool, you don't snore."

"I do not snore!" she stuttered. She gave up on behaving like a proper lady, grabbed her pillow and tried to hit him with it but he blocked the strike. The pillow was snatched from her hands and tossed on the bunk bed on the other side of the room. "You horrid man!" It only made him chuckle harder and she pouted. "You snore, if you must know. I would never comment of the other noises you make, by the way, but snoring isn't all you do in your sleep."

"I fart." he shrugged. "So what? You do too."

She almost choked in outrage. She huffed and puffed and huffed again.

"Why did you have to spoil such a lovely morning?" she accused.

"You're the one making a fuss over natural stuff." he snorted. "I don't mind the drool, I don't mind the snoring and I don't mind the occasional fart."

"You do not talk about flatulence with a lady, Haymitch!" she hissed.

He shook his head at her and tugged on her wrist so she would lie back down. She only caved because he was so warm and it was cold outside of the bed.

"You're ridiculous, sweetheart." he declared.

"You are the ridiculous one." she grumbled.

"Guess we make a pair, then." he smirked.

She rolled her eyes but didn't correct him.

She was too busy grinning.

Thirteen didn't have only bad sides.