For Carmen
Word Count 1132
There's a knock at the door, and Haymatch doesn't answer. Sometimes it seems like people never stop knocking. How long has it been since he's had any peace and quiet?
The thought almost makes him laugh. He hasn't had peace and quiet in a very long time, not since before his time in the Hunger Games. Why should things be any different now? Snow is gone. Coin has fallen. The world has moved on, and all that is left for him is all the noise inside his head.
The knocking continues, louder and more urgent. Haymitch reaches for a bottle, stops himself, and slumps to the floor. "Go away!"
"Well, I would say that is not likely to happen," comes Effie's sing-song voice, far more cheerful than anything he wants to hear. "I have gained a lot of new associates, Haymitch! Some of them have some unsavory skills, so I assure you I can find someone to pick this lock or kick the whole damn door down!"
He laughs at the curse that escapes her lips. It's such a small one, a word most people wouldn't think about. To him, it's hilarious. He loves it when Effie's feathers get ruffled. It's always been a fun little reminder that the people at the Capitol were human too…
He shakes his head. There is no Capitol anymore, no us versus them. Those days are gone, and he needs to look ahead and focus on unity. At least that's what they tell him. He doesn't really know if there's a point. How far can unity really get them? When does it all fall apart? He doesn't know much about the history before Panem, but he remembers his mother's stories, retellings of things her grandfather told her, little tales passed down. No one really knows what that life was like, but Haymitch knows that war is always inevitable, that people aren't going to be peaceful forever.
"Haymitch, open this door this instant! I'm warning you! I will start counting!"
Another laugh. He stares at the door, a grin on his lips. "Oh no! She's counting! How will I ever survive her counting?"
"One!"
He climbs to his feet and crosses the living room.
"Two! Don't make me count to three."
Still grinning, he opens the door. "And what would have happened if you made it to three, hmm?"
Effie huffs and pushes past him. He stares after in amusement. She's changed so much. Though the rebellion is over and she can go back to some semblance of a life before this, she still wears plain clothes without the heavy makeup and ridiculous hairstyles. The attitude is the same. That's one thing he's always admired about her: Effie doesn't look like much, but there's a fire in her that makes her more dangerous than anyone realizes. If she cares about something, she won't give up on it.
She won't give up on Haymitch.
Her nose wrinkles as she lifts a bottle of brandy. "Drinking again?"
"You'll notice it's full," he says.
She looks at him, studying him so closely that he's almost afraid she can see his soul. God, what a terrifying thought. Haymitch doesn't know if he even has a soul, but if he does, it's probably a filthy, scarred thing without much value.
"Are there any empty ones I should know about?" she asks.
He considers telling her that she shouldn't actually know about any aspect of her life, that it's his business and not hers. Instead, he shakes his head. "I like keeping my demons around," he tells her, taking the bottle from her and placing it on the mantle over the fireplace. "Every time I'm tempted to drink away the pain and I resist… Well, I like to think that's a testament to my pure, virtuous life."
Effie snorts, eyes rolling. "You are many things, Haymitch Abernathy," she says, "but pure is certainly not one of them."
He holds his hand over his heart, pretending to be wounded by her words.
"What are you tempted to drink away?" she asks. "It's over. All drinks should be celebratory."
With a heavy sigh, Haymitch drops onto his couch, stretching out his legs and resting his feet on the table. Judging by Effie's expression, she doesn't approve, but she doesn't say anything.
Haymitch thinks everyone must look at it the way Effie does. Everyone except Katniss, probably; the girl's always had more sense than most of Panem put together. They don't really see the ending of something awful, only the beginning of something new and promising. No one ever thinks about what they lost, all the suffering it took to reach this point.
Hell, maybe he's just as bad as they are. All he can see is the pain, and he clings to the past so tightly that he doesn't know how to let go and embrace the future.
"We killed Katniss' sister," he says. "Prim. Cute kid. She was so clever too."
"We didn't do that."
He laughs at that. "Oh, sure, we didn't. You and I didn't personally go out there and…" He trails off, unable to finish that sentence. He doesn't want to think about it because if he opens that door, he doesn't know if he can resist the urge to drink away whatever monsters come through. "But we're just as guilty."
"Have you eaten anything today?" Effie asks. "My mother always told me that nothing quiets the soul like a good meal."
She doesn't wait for an answer before making her way to his kitchen and acting like she owns the place. Haymitch hurries after her, standing in the doorway and watching in confusion.
"Do you actually know how to cook?" he asks because Effie doesn't seem the type.
She stands on her tiptoes, peering into a cabinet over the stove. "You, of all people, should know that I am more than just a pretty face, dear," she answers.
"Why are you doing this?"
It isn't that he's ungrateful. The company is nice, and maybe he's missed Effie more than he would ever actually admit. Still, it doesn't make sense. The world is moving forward, and she's probably needed elsewhere. Why would she waste her time on him?
"Oh, if you don't know the answer to that, I'm afraid you might be hopeless after all," she says, placing the ingredients and equipment on the counter.
Maybe he does know. Maybe there's never been a doubt in his mind that whenever that mess finally ended and he finally learned to heal, he would want Effie by his side. Truth be told, he never thought the feeling would be mutual.
"I love you too," he whispers, and she smiles.
The world is moving on. Maybe it's time for him to do the same.