A/N: Hi guys! Hope you all had a good Christmas! Sorry it's a little late, my 4 and 2 year old cousins have sort of crash landed so I haven't had much time to myself haha but anyway, on with Chapter 10 (chapter 10, wow lol!)
"Morning, princess."
The voice from beside me brings me out of my post-sleep haze and I rub my eyes tiredly.
"We really must stop meeting like this." I smile and he chuckles. We both stay silent for a moment, probably trying to wake up properly and also recalling the 'events' of last night.
"I can't help but think how weird this is. In a good way."
"I was just thinking that." I say, leaning my head against his bare chest and sighing contently. He wraps one hand around my waist and buries the other hand in my hair, twisting curls between his fingers and examining each of them as though they are about to disappear altogether.
I close my eyes and sink into his arms, letting the soft, even thumps off his heart lull me into a peaceful state. That is until a rumble emits from the pit of my stomach. He seems to notice it too and starts laughing.
"What do you have to eat?" I say sitting up. He smiles and shrugs in response.
"Are you saying there is nothing to eat in this house, Haymitch?" I groan pulling a face.
"Peeta might've been but otherwise, probably not." He says nonchalantly, sinking back in to his pillow and closing his eyes.
"How do you survive?" I ask a little shocked that he has no food in his house. Much like the rest of the district, I suppose. He shrugs casually and I roll my eyes.
"Fine, I'll go look." I huff and pull myself from the warmth of the bed and when the cold hits me I realise that I am still stark naked so grab Haymitch's shirt from the floor and pull it over myself.
"Hold your horses, sweetheart, I'm coming with you. If there is any food I want to get something before you shovel it all." He pulls on a pair of trousers and joins me at the door leading to the upstairs hallway.
"What are you inferring exactly?" I put my hands on my hips and scowl.
"That if Peeta has been, you will probably want to eat everything he has made."
He's right, I have never tried Peeta's baking but if it is anything like the things I've heard, then this statement has added nothing but an air of anticipation and excitement to having breakfast.
We make our way sleepily down the stairs and into the living room that also connects to the kitchen. As soon as we get to the archway of the kitchen, I push Haymitch back up against the wall.
"What?" he asks a little too loudly and I press my finger to my lips.
"Peeta" I mouth and he grins cockily.
"Good, we have food then." He says just as loudly as he did before and I glare at him.
"Will you shut up!" I hiss slapping him lightly on the arm.
"Sweetheart, what's the issue?"
"In case you haven't noticed, I am wearing nothing but your shirt. No wigs, no makeup and no high heels."
"Just as well then, he probably won't even know who you are."
"He's not stupid." I peer round the corner and see that he is laying a basket full of pastries down on the kitchen table and positioning a note in between two pain au chocolat.
"Yeah, and he's not deaf either." He pulls me round the archway and into the kitchen.
Peeta's eyes flicker between the two of us for a moment and I cringe mentally at how awkward this must look. "Good morning" He says and smiles in a way that gives me the impression that he knows exactly what's going on.
"Good morning." Both me and Haymitch say in unison, just adding to the embarrassment of the whole situation. There is a slightly awkward silence and we all look amongst each other waiting for someone to say something.
"Well, I'll leave you two to it." Peeta dismisses himself, still wearing the same knowing smile.
As soon as the back door shuts, I go ballistic. "Haymitch, why did you do that?! Did you not see him; he knows exactly what's going on! Mind you, it's pretty much idiot proof!" I gesture to myself wildly but Haymitch seems all too casual about it.
"Calm yourself down, sweetheart. Eat your pastry." He says calmly, picking up a croissant and taking a bite.
I sigh and take the neatly written note from the basket and read the words out loud.
"'Dear Haymitch and Effie, thank you for being so supportive during the Victory Tour and for helping us through. We appreciate it greatly. Kind regards, Peeta and Katniss.' Oh, isn't that lovely." I place it down on the table and take a cinnamon swirl from the basket.
"Delightful," says Haymitch with a mouthful of food.
"As are you." I mutter taking the seat across from him and picking at the pastry in front of me, trying to eat it in the most civilised way possible without a plate or knife and fork.
We spend the rest of breakfast in silence only breaking it by asking whether the other would like coffee or making small talk about the snow, now coming down in sheets.
After filling myself to the brim with delicious food, courtesy of Peeta, I dismiss myself and take my case upstairs to get dressed.
Once in the bathroom, I take a quick hot shower which lasts longer than anticipated seen as the water needs to warm up substantially due to the cold weather outside. Once I have stepped out, I wrap myself in a white cotton towel and look at myself in the mirror running across the wall.
Without all of the makeup and elaborate clothes, I could probably pass for a citizen of twelve. If the Hunger Games didn't exist and the law wasn't as strict, I'm sure that District 12 would be a perfectly nice place to live. They have woods and I'm sure that Katniss can't be the only person in the district who hunts in there. If they allowed exports from other districts to circulate around the whole country instead of just to the Capitol then I'm certain I would probably live here. If you strip away the coal dust and starving families, it would be a very beautiful place.
I shake my head and sigh. The ridiculous dream of a ridiculous woman.
"Sweetheart, you done in there? I need to piss." Haymitch, charming as ever, cuts into my thoughts and I roll my eyes.
"There are two other bathrooms in the house, Haymitch."
"I'm saving those for a special occasion." I laugh and grab the bottles from my shower and various other things I bought in and unlock the door.
"You're ridiculous" I say plainly crossing my arms across my chest.
"You're beautiful" he grins cockily and I blush.
"You're trying to sleep with me again"
"You might be right"
I laugh and stand up on my tip toes to plant a soft, chaste kiss on his lips. "I'm going to get dressed now; we have a Victory Rally at noon." And with that I leave him to his own devices while I take my clothes and makeup in to one of the spare rooms.
I open several doors before I find a bedroom that looks as though it has never been touched since Haymitch had been 'rewarded' the house twenty-five years ago. I pull on the ruby red, belted dress that goes exactly with the scarf and gloves. Gloves! I think, remembering that I left them on the mantel piece those few weeks back and make a mental note to remember them. I do my makeup in front of the ornate gold mirror and bundle all of my blonde curls under my wig which should hopefully offer some protection from the cold.
I gather up everything, take it downstairs and leave my suitcase by the door ready to leave later on. The shirt I have been wearing for the past few hours is draped over the crook of my elbow and I bring it up to smell it. Whisky and pine trees. I smile to myself as I realise that this is now a scent I can relate with being safe and warm.
Safe. That's a word I never thought I would associate with Haymitch Abernathy. Rude, drunk maybe but never safe. I have seen a completely new side to this man in the past few days, a side I would like to see more of.
I fold the shirt neatly and find something to write on and with. I find a newspaper and tear the corner from one of the pages and take a pen from the side of the table and quickly scrawl down a note:
We really should do this more often
Yours,
Effie
I fold up the paper and stuff it into the pocket of his shirt and leave it on the back of the armchair hoping that it won't be washed anytime soon.
I move to sit down on the sofa when there is a knock at the door. When I still hear running water from upstairs I decide I had better answer it.
When I open the door I see a woman with chocolate brown hair tied up messily in a bun holding a small girl with dark blonde hair in a short straight ponytail.
"Oh, hello, I'm Hazelle Hawthorne. I come round to clean the house every few days."
"Ahh yes, come inside." I step aside and let her in. She walks over to the sofa and places the girl down.
"I hate to trouble you but could you possibly watch Posy for a few minutes while I tidy? She's off sick from pre-school today."
"Of course, it's no trouble." I say sitting down next to the small girl playing with a doll that looks as if it had been passed down a couple of generations before it got to her. She sits looking at me for a minute and I can't help but feel slightly self-conscious which is ridiculous because she is only about four or five.
"Is red your favourite colour?" She asks out of the blue, looking at my dress.
"No, my favourite colour is pink." I smile and her face lights up.
"Pink is my favourite colour too!" She bounces up and down on the sofa cushions and I can't help but smile "But, if your favourite colour is pink, why don't you wear a pink dress?" her expression changes into one of confusion.
"Because, sometimes it's nice to have a change, don't you agree?"
She nods but then frowns. "Mommy say's I have to keep this dress nice because we can't afford another one for a while."
Tears begin to form in my eyes but I push them back, not wanting to cry. But I want to do so much more than cry, I want to scream and shout as loud as I can and ask the president if he thinks it is okay that a small child should be in danger of not being clothed properly. If he thinks that making twenty-four children fight to the death because of something that happened almost seventy-five years ago is helping keep the districts in line because all I can see is a rebellion starting to take shape under his 'all-powerful' rule.
I shake my head and decide to keep these questions in my head as I would probably be shot if I let them slip.
"Hello Posy." Haymitch says, walking down the stairs to where we're sat.
"Haymish!" she calls out and we both laugh.
"You're just in time Haymitch; we have ten minutes to get to the square before the rally." I say and he nods walking over to the fireplace. He takes my red gloves from the marble hearth and throws them in my direction.
"I believe these are yours."
"Thank you Haymitch, I almost forgot them. Again." I slip the red leather over my hands and grab my white ermine coat from the back of the sofa, pulling it over my arms and feeling instant warmth.
"Right, we had better be going then." I say standing and walking towards the door, Haymitch at my heels.
"Thank you, Hazelle." Shouts Haymitch over his shoulder.
"No problem Haymitch, have a nice Harvest Festival. Both of you." She says emerging from the kitchen and I nod my head in thanks.
"You to."
We make our way out into the snow and I begin to wish I had ordered a car to take us to the square.
A/N: hope you guys liked it! Continue to review, favourite etc.
With love ~H x