Warning: These one-shots feature heavy subjects, including alcoholism, drug abuse, and torture... so far. Now adding: depression, cheating, heartbreak. I'll add more as the story wears on, just in case.

AN: Credit goes to HannahSongla for the story idea. Please go check out her Hayniss story similar to this - Sweetheart. Credit goes to Suzanne Collins for the verse and the characters. I don't really own anything but the text of these one-shots. And no, that doesn't mean the song lyrics. Enjoy c:

Song: Bones by Ben Howard

Bones

And you laugh like you've never been lonely
That's alright honey, yeah
That's alright with me

Their games always started long after Peeta went to sleep. They had to - one time she'd come over while the boy was still awake and he'd dumped Haymitch's weekly liquor supply down the drain in punishment to both of them. Then he lectured Katniss about liquor and how it was foolish to drown her sorrows in a bottle, and cursed Haymitch for attempting to get her latched onto his addiction. Ever since, she'd wait until midnight to come over - long after Peeta had gone to bed - and then she'd sneak over to his house in nothing but one of his oversized shirts, a pair of wool tights and her socks. Boots, if it were winter.

He'd always be awake when she arrived, with the liquor set out and his door unlocked. Sometimes he'd be on the couch, but most times he was slumped over the table, liquor or morphling already working it's way through his system. He never slept at night, she found that out early on. At first, she thought it was the night terrors. But as the months wore on, she begun to realize that it was only because he was waiting up for her. He would be drowned in alcohol, somewhere knocked out, if there wasn't the expectation of her arrival.

Tonight was no different. The moon was high in the sky, the stars twinkling above the darkness of the District. The only light from any of the houses in Victor's Village was the moonlight, casting shadows in the burnt out streetlights and on her as she marched across Peeta's lawn. She barged inside his house, shouting his name in a partial greeting and a partial alert of her presence. He was sitting at the kitchen table this time, his feet on the table and a glass of gin swirling in his hand. Katniss took her usual seat at the kitchen table, pouring her own poison - cognac was her favorite. She didn't bother asking what drinking game they would play tonight, he would instigate it.

"Never have I ever," he says after a long while, and she nods her head. This one was the worst - they always traded low blows and hurt each other with this game. "... fucked Peeta Mellark." He finishes his sentence with a sly smirk, tipping his glass towards her mockingly. Katniss snarls at him, takes a gulp of liquor and slams her glass back down.

"Never have I ever," she says, once she's mulled over her answer. She's tempted to say 'got my boyfriend killed', but she knows that's a low blow. And she doesn't feel like fighting him tonight, or hurting him. And that would be a lie on her part - she almost got Peeta killed on more than one equation. "... had a snowball fight."

"Never?" he asks, appallled, after taking his drink. Katniss shakes her head, her tangled and matted dark curls swishing and falling into her face.

"Never," she confirms. "I never had time - too busy providing for my family, you know. Trying not to die of starvation." He chuckles, shakes his head, and pushes away from the table. Katniss watches as he slips into his shoes with his socks, and pulls his jacket over his arms. Katniss stares at him over his glass, a perfect eyebrow raised in question.

"I'm glad you wore pants tonight, sweetheart," he says, tossing her one of his jackets. "We're going to have a snowball fight."

"What?" she asks, before laughing - an actual laugh, not one of those bitter drunk filled ones or those fake ones she shares with Peeta. The melody is a chime in his ears, and he realizes how long it's been since she's genuinely laughed. "No!"

"Yes," he insists, pulling her up. Haymitch removes the glass from her fingers and sets it on the table before helping her into a coat. "Everyone should have at least one snowball in their lives - it's sad you've never had one. I was trying not to die too, but I still took Barlem out to have snowball fights when it snowed." Katniss ignores the mention of his brother, even though she picks it up. She doesn't need to ask what he's talking about - he knows he's sharing a piece of him with her, and she won't spoil it.

"Haymitch, it's colder than a miner's asshole out there! I'm not going to have a snowball fight with you, you child."

"Oh yes you are, sweetheart," he says, practically dragging her out of his front door. Katniss puts up a fight, but not really. Really, if she didn't want to go, she'd still be sitting at the table. But she actually does want to have a snowball fight with him, because she's never seen him smile with mischief like this. It's adorably childish.

Once outside, Haymitch leaves her standing on his lawn and backs away until he's on Peeta's lawn. Despite the other residents of Victor's most likely being asleep, he cups his hands around his mouth to project his voice.

"Okay. We're going to turn our backs to each other, and count to five. On five, we both turn and begin our snowball fight. Okay?" he calls to her. Katniss nods, smiling in partial thrill and partial amusement. She turns her back to him - making sure he's turned around first - and starts off the countdown with '1'. They take turns calling out numbers until '4', when an icy cold feeling slams into the back of her head and slides down her neck and the back of her shirt. Katniss yelps and jumps about five feet in the air, airing out her shirt to get the cold ice off of her.

She turns on her heel and narrows her eyes, glaring at him angrily. Haymitch is kneeled over, one hand on his stomach - she notices the absence of gloves and remembers him shoving his gloves in her jacket pocket - and the other leaning on Peeta' mailbox.

"You said five, you ass!" she yells, picking up a ball of cold snow. He's laughing so hard that he doesn't even notice. "That's not fair!" On the last word, she launches the snow in his direction. The ball of ice lands on the hand that's covering his stomach and she laughs in triumph. Haymitch's laughter pauses, before coming back at full force - much louder.

"You really expected me to play by the rules, sweetheart?" he asks, inching forward and launching another snowball at her. She can tell by the throw that he used what the seam called 'a man's pitch', and the ball of snow comes hurling at her with more force and speed this time. This one catches her in the chest, and although there is only minimal pain, Katniss feigns being hit. She falls to her knees, clutching her chest and reaching out to him before falling face first into the snow and rolling over to her back to stare at the moon and stars above

She hears his laughter slow down into a snicker and his boots against the snow as he rushes to her, before he kneels beside her. Haymitch sits cross-legged on the snow before leaning over her face. His grey eyes stare down at her, and even though his expression says worried, his eyes betray his laughter. His unruly dark hair falls in a short curtain around his face, and she can't help but feel that he is wildly adorable.

"Oh, Katniss, my sweetheart. Have I injured thou?" he asks, placing the back of his hand against her cheek.

"Yes, you have," she pauses and pretends to cough. "I have a dying request, m'love."

"Oh, and what would that be?"

"Eat... snow!" Katniss brings a fistful of snow up and launches it into his face, cackling evilly as he falls back at the force and scoots away from her. Her sides begin to hurt as she laughs, and it takes her five whole minutes to recompose herself. She sits up on her heels, watching as he sputters and and scrambles to remove the snow from his eyes, mouth and nose. She doesn't notice his arm inching up until he pulls her down on top of him. Katniss falls with an ungraceful 'oof' onto his chest, her hands planting themselves on either side of his head.

"Haymitch!" she laughs, shifting her weight so that she could bring one hand up and brush some snow away from his hair. "Why'd you do that?"

"I don't know," he replies, the laughter still laced heavily in his voice. "I'm glad I did." It's then that she realizes just how close their faces are, and she can feel the warm puff of his breath against her frozen nose. She can see every detail of his face - the shaving cut he must have received from earlier that morning, the blue tint to his grey eyes, the snow in his eyelashes, the way his cheeks are tinged pink from the cold. The curve of his slightly chapped lips, the way he's breathing hard. Katniss quickly realizes that she thinks he's adorable.

"Haymitch," she whispers, before inclining her head slightly and kissing him. She places her cold lips against his and a fire explodes in her spine - sending tingles and and chills through her entire body. Haymitch responds eagerly, running his tongue along her bottom lip in a question for entrance. She's more than willing to allow him in, pushing her tongue against him in a quest for dominance.

The snow begins to fall around the kissing couple, landing in their dark locks and wetting their clothing. The chill is what forces their lips apart, and each of them expects the other to regret it immediately. But when both their eyes fill with lust and desire, they realize that no one is backing out of this anytime soon. It doesn't take much for Katniss to pull Haymitch up from the ground and push him into the house. There, they'll stumble in a rush to remove their clothing, fall onto the couch in the living room and continue their kissing battle in front of the warmth of his hearth.

And in a house across the street, three stories up, Peeta Mellark will continue to sleep soundly.

And you love like you've always been lonely
That's alright honey
That's alright with me