A/N: Hi guys! Sorry for the lateness of the chapter, I've just gone back to school and then well… Les Miserables happened…. I swear I've been crying for the past 4 days! If you haven't seen it, GO AND WATCH IT! Thank me later…. But anyway, here's the next chapter! (sorry it's quite a short one…)

The first thing I am aware of when I wake up is the persistent pounding in the back of my head. I manage to open my eyes just enough to see the fluorescent letters of the clock, reading just past eleven. Thank God I have nothing to do today.

I roll over onto my back and sigh deeply, feeling incredibly sick all of a sudden. I throw my arms back against the covers and it's only when my hand hits something hard that my mind wakes up and my eyes open properly.

I sit bolt upright and see someone lying in my bed. Wait, this isn't even my bed.

At first I begin to panic but then realise that the fact my head is pounding and my stomach feels like it's being put through a washing machine probably suggests that I got drunk last night. Very drunk.

I swing my feet out of the side of the bed and pick up a discarded shirt presumably from the blotted out events of last night and take slow and cautious steps round to the other side of the bed as to not wake whoever is still sleeping in the other side.

I half expect to see Haymitch lying there but then I remember, very vaguely I might add, the phone call last night. I particularly remember saying things I rather wish I hadn't.

I shake my head and try to rid myself of the memories of last night which, with the help of the alcohol, are becoming slightly less prominent in my mind.

I bend down next to the sleeping man and examine his features which are concealed by a few strands of coffee brown hair. I sweep them to the side, careful not to wake him as I do and frown when I realise that I don't recognise him. Great, a one night stand with a mystery man I don't even know the name of is all I need on my conscience.

I stand up and begin to saunter sleepily towards a room which I presume is the bathroom but I stop dead in my tracks when I hear the man stir behind me. "Hey," he murmurs drowsily and I close my eyes.

"Hey," I reply turning around and wringing my hands together awkwardly. "I'm sorry; your shirt was the first thing I found on the floor." I don't know why I feel the need to explain myself but somehow it seems like the right thing to do.

"Shirts suit you. Actually I'm pretty sure that one suits you better than me."

"So I've been told," I frown a little recalling memories from not too long ago.

We both stay silent waiting for the other to speak but before the awkwardness can get ridiculous I make a prompt exit into the bathroom and lock the door behind me.

I look at myself in the mirror and note just how much of a wreck I look. My makeup from last night is smudged in just about every region of my face and my hair a matted mess on the side of my head. Since there is no sign of a hairbrush anywhere, I have to make do with my fingers.

I wash off the previous day's makeup and groan when I realise that I don't have any with me. The worst part is I don't even know where I am, I could be on the other side of the Capitol for all I know!

When I leave the bathroom I am surprised to see that the curtains are open and the bed looks as if it hasn't been slept in. I also note that my clothes have neatly been folded over the back of a chair in front of a dressing table.

After dressing in the previous day's ensemble, I open various doors leading to hidden closets and store cupboards in the walls before eventually finding the door leading to the rest of the apartment.

Most of the walls are made up of glass looking out over the rest of the city, not a great deal unlike my own home, except the furniture is a deep navy blue instead of a pretty shade of lilac. On the walls hang some old looking paintings all hanging in slightly faded gold frames, occupying almost every free space.

I look around for any sign of the mystery man but when I appear to be the only living thing in the whole apartment, I head towards the door.

"Leaving so soon?"

I jump and turn round and see the man stood behind me wearing a cocky grin and holding what looks to be a cup of coffee.

"I'm sorry; I didn't think you were still here." I say taking a few steps away from the door. "Actually," I begin after a few seconds pause, "I was sort of hoping that maybe we could talk about last night. I mean, I don't even know your name."

He laughs and walks over to me, extending a hand. "Marius."

"Marius," I muse, taking his hand. "And I'm-"

"Effie, I know. I saw you on the Caesar Flickerman show last night."

I frown, wishing I could forget the whole thing all together.

"Well as nice as it is to have a beautiful woman in my apartment, I have to go to work - so did you want to get a drink later?"

I run the proposal over in my mind a few times. Am I ready to do this again? Start a new relationship when I'm not entirely sure I have gotten over the last one? Maybe it was the best for both of us that we broke it off when we did, after all what we were doing was wrong and incredibly dangerous. Yet somewhere in the danger and wrongdoing was a feeling of incredible rightness.

"Yes, that would be lovely."

"Okay," says Marius placing his third – maybe fourth empty glass on the varnished mahogany bar. "A relationship you thought would work that didn't."

"Do I have to answer that question?" I moan taking a reserved sip from a glass of red wine. To my dismay he nods and I sigh.

I don't really know why we are using our pasts as a topic of conversation but it is turning out into a rather amusing game, especially when topics like 'the funniest thing you've done when drunk' come up.

"Right," I begin in a measured voice, knowing full well I am going to regret it. "A short while ago, I kissed someone I perhaps shouldn't have. It was one of those spur-of-the-moment kind of things and it sort of escalated from there really. We got to know each other and I started thinking what if, but then in the end… I screwed it up big time – which is a shame. I saw a completely different side to him, a caring and friendly side and the one thing that really does kill me is that I never got to tell him how I felt."

I only realise I'm crying when a salty tear falls to the corner of my lips but I am quick to brush it away and smile like there is nothing is wrong.

"I'll walk you home." He says in a serious yet caring demeanour and I can do nothing but allow him to lead me through the rainy streets of the Capitol and to my apartment.

"Well this is me." I shrug once we reach the front door and he does likewise.

"Goodnight then," he says and I smile.

"Goodnight." I move to kiss him on the cheek but he skilfully catches my lips with his. At first I don't kiss him back but then once I realise that there is nothing more to lose, I do.

Clothes are clumsily discarded throughout the room and kisses are placed just about anywhere within reason on the way to the bedroom.

Once there I pull down and kick off the dress that was left around my waist, leaving me in my underwear and feeling oddly exposed. I push down the feeling and crawl on top of him, my lips lingering a few times on his bare chest before meeting his lips hungrily.

Every time I kiss him or he kisses me, there is something oddly wrong with it. A strange emotion that I can't quite put my finger on but it's something that leaves my stomach and heart feeling hollow and empty.

"Wait," I say and he stops kissing down my abdomen to look me in the eye.

"What's wrong?" he asks sitting upright on the mattress.

I shake my head, telling myself that I'm being ridiculous. "Nothing," I lie and for a moment I'm not sure he believes me but after some motivation he returns his lips gingerly to mine.

Throughout the entire night I can only think of one person, that infuriatingly wonderful person. Haymitch Abernathy.

A/N: Again guys sorry for the lateness and shortness of this chapter but I have been revising for prelims coming next week but once they are over, I will probably have a little more time on my hands for writing. I feel like the ending is rushed but I'm feeling quite tired tonight... Oh and another thing you fellow Les Mis fans out there reading this will have noticed is 'Marius'. I don't know why I decided to name him that but when I was scouring the internet for names, I found it on a website for Roman names and not only do I love the name, it also fits in with SC's name choice (that made no sense and was completely unnecessary but hey!) Anyway, I'm going to go to bed now because it is ten past ten, I'm tired and I have school tomorrow so goodnight! Continue to review, like, fave… you know the drill.

Love you all! ~ H x