Author's note: Wow, I can barely hit the right keys right now, I'm so tired, haha. Well, here's another chapter, since I won't be uploading over the weekend, as I am going to a convention ( / ) and won't have access to 'real' internet / bring my computer.

Hope you enjoy! :D

This story may be seen as triggering to people dealing or having dealt with self injury, suicide or depression. Rated M for descriptive violence and very dark themes.


"I don't like blood," Effie said, while Haymitch inspected her thigh. It'd become a daily thing for him. He changed her bandages, made sure nothing became infected. Some of the older scars had obviously been infected and reopened several times, because they were raised, white and some of the skin around them still irritated with redness.

"Funny words from someone who works with the Hunger Games and cuts herself," Haymitch said without a single emotion filling his voice. She'd broken her promise long ago, but as long as Haymitch saw the pain in her eyes when she had to reveal to him, that she'd done it, he could be just some sort of content. The deal was her idea. It helped her. Yesterday night he suspected she'd taken a 'bathroom break' and the dried blood and already beginning infection proved him right.

"I'm sorry…" She was usually crying during these sessions. Haymitch tried to keep as calm as he could. No matter how horrifying her injuries seemed he still couldn't shake that he was this close to her. Touching her thighs so delicately, that he sometimes felt her shake. On good days she'd kiss him when he was done. On bad days she'd cry until she fell asleep.

He shook his head. He was scared for her.

"Just try to stop. If not for yourself, then do it for me. I don't like blood either," he said and looked at some of the red, sticky stuff clinging under his fingernails.

"You're so good to me," she looked away and he saw her hand close tightly into a fist, while he pulled down her skirt again, covering the damage, which would probably never go away. Would it sound too romantic if he said he was just returning the favours from all the nights she'd spent with him bent over the toilet, soothing him with nice words and a cold cloth?

He sat down on her bed and regarded her for a while. Every time he saw her he'd begun feeling something. Not just the protective emotion of wanting her to stop hurting herself, but much more. It wasn't meant to happen, but slowly he felt he was falling for her. The kisses they exchanged had become loaded with such intensity, that it was no longer just because they only had each other. She'd wiped her face of make-up long ago, let her hair down. She spoke in private with him, with a voice that sounded nothing like the high pitched birdlike voice she used in public. He felt he was with another person. A real person She lay down next to him on the bed with a deep sigh, exhausted from crying.

"Could you stay with me?" she asked and he felt butterflies spread in his stomach the instant he heard the words. She asked them so innocently, yet his mind went straight to the gutter. It wasn't like he couldn't do it. Not like he didn't want to.

"Yeah, Effs, sure," he leaned back and felt his head hit the soft silk bedcovers. He could smell her minty breath, fresh as her wardrobe and count the blood vessels in her eyes. Automatically his hand went through her hair and he leaned forward to plant a kiss on her forehead. She replied by letting a clearly nervously shaking hand caress his cheek. He knew he had a foul smell to him, but she didn't seem to mind.

Haymitch pulled her a bit closer to him and embraced her, he could feel she was still sobbing a bit from the contractions in her body and the shaking, but it soon stopped as she pushed her face into his shoulder, closing her eyes tightly, mumbling something he didn't have the chance to hear, before she took him by surprise and put her hands on his chest. Her hands were a bit cold or maybe he was really hot, he couldn't tell. Through the fabric of his shirt he felt her thumbs move slightly and she pulled her head back to look at him with a questioning look on her face – maybe even slightly challenging. When he didn't do anything to stop her, she opened the top button of his shirt. Haymitch had almost forgotten how to do this stuff, but his bodily functions certainly still worked, he noticed. He felt vulgar, but there was not much to do about it, other than return her intensified endearments. This was probably a bad idea.

There were more of them. Scars. On her hips, on her stomach, all the way up to her ribcage covering her body. Some of them looking randomly cut in anger or despair, others in uniform lines making staircases from her hips and up. Old ones, really old ones it seemed. Haymitch tried not to stare as he relieved her of her clothes. He was shirtless, revealing the large scar on his stomach from the games. Normally they'd fix up the girls, leaving their skin flawless, but the boys. The boys kept some of the big scars – battle scars, Haymitch barely got medical treatment, because of his defiance of the Capitol, and so he still carried this. It was nothing compared to her, but she traced it with her fingers and for a moment she seemed filled with wonder and childish curiosity, but something grabbed her by her mind and led her thoughts back on track – whatever track they were going down. When he took of her bra she started shaking violently, not exactly crying or anything but enough to make him stop.

"Are you alright?" he asked and let go of her.

"I'm sorry, I'm just… Not used to being-" A sour taste spread in Haymitch's mouth when he realized what she was about to say. Treated so gently. He remembered Cinna protecting her, saying the women here were fragile, implying they didn't use the word 'no' much. He was disgusted yet turned on to no end. He wasn't used to being the nice guy, the good one, so this opportunity was an adventure for him. He kissed her and let a hand slide down her back, while his kisses moved softly from her lips to her neck. She let out little whimpers and he felt her nails scratch his back when he hit extra sensitive spots. He couldn't stop himself from growling when she unfastened his belt. He made sure to not be the least bit rough with her. The last thing he wanted right now was to see her cry again, her eyes still being red from when he checked her thighs.

As the night grew darker outside the inside of her room became warmer.


"Effie? Are you awake?" Cinna's voice sounded loudly from the outside of the room. Thankfully, he had manners, so he didn't burst in. Haymitch looked at the woman sleeping in his arms, still stark naked, breathing lightly, but obviously still asleep. If he was quiet enough, she might not wake up and Cinna would leave thinking she was still sleeping. But she was already stirring beside him.

"What time is it?!" she asked, suddenly awake like never before.

"Effie are you okay?" Cinna banged on her door.

"Coming, Cinna, give me a minute, my … my lens didn't go in the right way," She said pulling on a very simple dress from her closet. Black with deep blue streaks. In less than 30 seconds she was wearing a wig and some light make-up. She didn't really look like herself, but she looked enough like herself not to make Cinna suspicious, Haymitch guessed.
"Stay. Here." She mouthed at him and nodded towards his clothes on the floor, before she left the room shutting the door quickly behind her. He heard her and Cinna discuss something, but he dared not move until the voices were gone so far he couldn't hear them.


She kissed him so surprisingly he almost pushed her away. He was stunned. She was ecstatic. They'd won. Both of them. Never in the history of the Hunger Games had two tributes won. Cinna stood behind them staring at Haymitch with a look filled with hatred. Haymitch had really gotten on the bad side of the stylist after Effie and him pretty much became semi-official. Wasn't hard to figure out, seeing as they spent so much time together. Neither Cinna nor Portia would ever do anything to harm Effie's reputation, so it never left the training centre. Though the expression on Cinna's face soon changed, when he looked to the screen and saw both Katniss and Peeta being lifted from the arena.

"We won," Effie said, tears streaming down her face, happy tears.

"Yeah… I guess we did," Haymitch said, but he wasn't as happy as his Capitol acquaintances, he knew the price of defying the Capitol.

"We should go meet with them when they get back!" Effie said with an excited voice, like a kid learning that Christmas would come a few days early this year.

"Effie, they have to go to the hospital," Cinna explained to her in an overbearing manner.

"Oh… Yeah," Effie said blushing. She looked at Haymitch and he took her hand, squeezing it a bit. He liked seeing her happy so he wouldn't burst her bubble by sharing his pessimistic thoughts. Portia called on a servant to bring them champagne.

Haymitch kissed her again to annoy Cinna. All his worries could wait until tomorrow.