Prompt: Hi, Could you Write a OS Post-mj where Effie has to return in the Capitol, But Haymitch doesn't Want so He fake a Illness or something like that, 'cause He can't Tell her that He will miss her? (I love When they were NOT lovers during the Games, so they Shared Haymitch House, post-Mj Canon-books) I Really love YOUR OS, especially "a confession in the dead of the Night" and "Red Handed" there are so many others that I love Ahha

The Art Of Asking Her To Stay

Effie's gaze diligently appraised the guest room, making sure everything was back in the place she had found it. Well… It was far much cleaner than she had found it, to be honest, but she supposed that was only to be expected. The bed was made, the curtains were pulled, the furniture was gleaming with a new coat of polish… Satisfied that she had been a good guest – as good a guest as she could be when she had been imposing for two good months at least – she dragged her heavy suitcase in the corridor.

She left it at the top of the stairs, unwilling to even try to carry it down. She made her way to Haymitch's bedroom instead. The door was half-open and she knocked but pushed it all the way open without waiting for an answer.

Haymitch was lying on top of the unmade bed, propped against his pillow, a bottle in his hand and a sulk on his face.

"Are you still feeling poorly?" she asked with a small frown. She was used to Haymitch getting sick after a binge but he had been complaining about feeling ill since the previous evening and she was starting to get a little worried.

"Feels worse." he pouted.

His sulk, if possible, only deepened when she wandered closer to place a hand on his forehead.

"I still do not think you have a fever but perhaps we should call a doctor." she sighed. "I will ask Peeta to come help with my luggage and I will see if he can find you one afterwards."

Twelve was still in a state of disarray despite the rebuilding and she wouldn't have known where to call or who to fetch. Two months hiding in Haymitch's house hadn't helped her make many friends in the District.

"You're still leaving?" he scowled. "I'm dying and you're still leaving?"

Her lips twitched. "I highly doubt you are dying. You do not even have a cough."

"What do you know? You're a doctor now?" He glared at her and rolled on his side, very much turning his back on her. "Well, off you go, then, Trinket. Goodbye."

She frowned a little and carefully sat on the edge of the mattress, a little self-conscious of the dirty tangled sheets. She had never minded the dirty sheets when she had sought refuge in his bed in the middle of the night, terrified sick by the nightmares still plaguing her mind. But those were things they never talked about in the day.

They never talked about anything serious. They didn't talk about why she had come to Twelve in the first place. They didn't talk about the rebellion. They didn't talk about what had happened to her. They didn't talk about the nightmares. They didn't talk about falling asleep curled up together when she had night terrors happened. They didn't talk about anything that wasn't the children, the weather or his inability to keep a house clean.

"Do not be like that." she chided without much heat, placing a hand on his shoulder. She could feel the warmth of his skin through the thin cotton of his shirt.

"What am I supposed to be like?" he scoffed. "You know, it hasn't always been fun having you around for so long. You're a pain in the ass. And now you're gonna leave the day I fall sick? Bit rude, that, sweetheart."

"I am well aware of your feelings for me, Haymitch." she replied. "And I am well aware I imposed too long on your hospitality. It is why I am leaving…"

"Bullshit." he spat. "Didn't say I wanted you to go, did I?"

He had just done so, as a matter of fact, but, as always with Haymitch, she sensed there was more at work there. He never seemed to be able to say what needed to be said when it came to feelings. "Haymitch… Are you pretending to be ill so I will stay a few more days?"

"Full of yourself, ain't you?" he scowled. "I'm ill. I've got a headache. And my heart's feeling funny too. See? I'm gonna have a heart attack while you're in your train and you're gonna feel very sorry once I'm dead."

"To be sure." She fought a smile and firmly pushed on his shoulder until he rolled on his back so she could see his face. "Do you want me to stay a few more days?"

He stubbornly kept his eyes riveted somewhere above her right shoulder. "Don't see why you have to go at all."

That, she hadn't seen coming and it shocked her a little. She had lingered in Twelve longer than she had originally planned, true. Mostly because she felt safe with Haymitch and the children and the Capitol had become a harsh place to live in nowadays. But she had never meant to… make the move permanent.

"Move to Twelve?" she clarified, licking her lips. And why not? What else was there for her in the city but bad memories, ghosts and difficulties? If she stayed in Twelve, she would see the children every day. She would be with her team… The more she thought about it, the more she liked the idea. "I will need a house…"

"Why?" he grumbled. "What's wrong with mine? There's space… You don't like your room, you could always move into mine." He snorted. "God knows you sleep in it often enough as it is…" He made a face and then hastily sat up, loosely coiling his fingers around her wrist. "Not that you have to. I mean we haven't even… Look…"

"Oh." she blurted out because she was finally starting to get a clear picture. A bright smile stretched her lips. "You want us to start a relationship."

There had been kisses over the years. Hasty aggressive angry kisses that they had never talked about. And, lately, stolen ones, in the dead of night, they hadn't mentioned either.

She hadn't thought he meant anything by it because he had never really tried to get more from her.

"Relationship?" he sputtered, going a bit white. "No, that's not… Well… Shit, sweetheart, why do you have to make everything complicated? Just stay. We do it like we've been doing. Maybe you just… Come to bed with me from the start sometimes… See where that leads up."

She had a good idea of where that would lead to and she wasn't against it.

"I might be amendable to that if you change your sheets." she hummed, standing up and sauntering out of his bedroom with a wink.

"Where are you going?" he called after her.

"Why, to unpack, obviously!" she answered with a laugh. "We wouldn't want my clothes to crease , would we?"

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