Chapter Seventy-Seven; Alone In the Capitol

(Stephanie's POV)

Stephanie's sleep was fitful at best, when she finally – after crying herself to the point of exhaustion – fell asleep against the sofa, Frenkin still curled up in her lap.

However at one point during the dark night Stephanie had woken screaming, flailing wildly.

It hurt like hell that the first person Stephanie called for, needed, wanted was Haymitch.

She had obviously woken Frenkin with her nightmares and for a moment they both just sat staring at one another, a haunted look reflected in each other's eyes.

They both reached for one another simultaneously, holding the other tightly in the dark, hoping to find the safety they craved in each other's embrace.

Stephanie held Frenkin even tighter, aware that she must be hurting him but unable to convince herself to lessen her hold, in case guards suddenly came swarming in and dragged him away from her like in her nightmares.

Stephanie desperately tried to stop trembling, but she couldn't.

The only place, the only time she had ever felt safe, even if it wasn't strictly realistic, had been near Haymitch, in Haymitch's arms.

She knew in the Capitol that it was foolish, hopeful thinking, but it was like feeling a warm blanket of security settle over her and now…Stephanie felt exposed and cold, waiting in the open and surrounded by hidden enemies.

After they had finally released each other by silent mutual agreement they decided to retire to their bedrooms.

Stephanie tucked Frenkin in bed, staying until she was sure he slept soundly. She told herself it was for Frenkin's benefit but truly she was terrified of being alone.

Eventually though Stephanie climbed into her own bed, settling deep down into the covers.

She finally fell asleep once more, her cheeks wet with salt tears and wishing that she could sleep the rest away.

…

Stephanie was woken up, not by the usual alarm clock, but by someone shaking her shoulder insistently yet gently.

Glancing towards the window in her room, Stephanie blinked blearily wondering why she wasn't being blinded by morning sunshine.

It was then that she realised that it was because the sun had not risen yet. The sky was not the charcoal black of night but was lightening slightly to an indigo. It was very early morning.

Stephanie turned groggily towards whoever thought it was acceptable to wake before the crack of dawn, a woman who had just had her heart stomped all over the night previous.

Haymitch.

Stephanie blinked, hoping that she had to be imagining it, dreaming it.

But no, she already knew that the image before her was too real to be anything but Haymitch sitting on her bed staring at her intently.

Stephanie looked up at him, really stared at him.

She didn't know what she expected to find; to suddenly be able to see lies across his face, maybe a guilty flicker in his eyes or some indication of deceit.

But it simply wasn't there.

There was only tenderness in his stormy grey eyes, his hair was dishevelled and there was a slight stubble shadowing his jaw.

Stephanie wanted to scream at him, land a punch right in his face, break him in some way to atone for how he had completely broken her.

But Stephanie could only meet his grey eyes feeling the familiar rush of love flow through her, only now it was tinged and tainted with her hurt and anger.

"What happened last night Stephanie? Where did you go?" Haymitch reached out a hand to push a few strands of hair back from Stephanie's face, gentle concern in his gaze.

Stephanie tried to muster up a glare when her heart twisted agonisingly as his fingertips grazed her cheek.

How could he still do this after what he had done?

"Where did you go?"

Stephanie was a little more than surprised by her even tone, how completely controlled it sounded, though it was also completely devoid of all emotion.

Haymitch sighed deeply, averting his gaze.

Stephanie's heart leapt into her throat. She wasn't sure how she could cope if Haymitch was suddenly to confess to her.

"I'll tell you later, but right now we have to go," Haymitch told her, his gaze flickering for a moment to the alarm clock by Stephanie's bed.

Stephanie looked up at him in evident confusion, her golden eyes trembling uncertainly.

"Not now sweetheart – later. Hurry and get ready," Haymitch said, seeing the questions filling her eyes, though he couldn't begin to suspect the questions that were truly plaguing Stephanie.

Stephanie looked at Haymitch. She should say it now, tell him what she saw, demand an explanation, scream at him for all she worth…beg him to tell her it wasn't true and that he wouldn't leave her.

Haymitch leaned to press a chaste kiss to Stephanie's lips but at the last moment Stephanie jerked away so Haymitch's lips caught her cheek.

Haymitch drew back abruptly, confusion and a trace of hurt flashing in his eyes but Stephanie's head was turned away from him and she couldn't see it.

"Stephanie?" Haymitch probed, frowning slightly in puzzlement.

Stephanie whipped the covers back suddenly, almost shoving Haymitch off the bed, as she darted across the room into the bathroom before Haymitch could even register what was happening.

Haymitch stared after her still confused but also guilt weighing heavily in his heart.

He knew he would have to tell her – and soon.

…

Once in the bathroom Stephanie slid down the door to the cool tiled floor, her whole body shuddering for a few moments of haggard breathing as she fought the tears back.

She would not break down! She couldn't spend days sobbing over Haymitch – training would begin tomorrow!

How would she look to other tributes if she was to turn up to training red-eyed and breaking down at every mention of Haymitch?

Her head was trying desperately to be sensible but with her heart it was a hopeless case.

Stephanie went to the sink, not even bothering to look in the mirror to see what state she looked in.

Stephanie splashed her face with freezing water, pushing away her anger and frustration at herself.

Why hadn't she said anything to him? Why couldn't she had screamed at him, argued it out with him? The least she could do was make her accusations! Had she no damn dignity left?!

But Stephanie deep down was terrified; to say it out loud, to voice what she had seen – that would make it real. A fact and not a figment of her imagination.

And even more than that, Stephanie was petrified of what Haymitch's reaction would be.

To hear herself voice it and make her accusations would tear her heart apart anew, but to hear Haymitch admit it would kill her.