Warning: These one-shots feature heavy subjects, including alcoholism, drug abuse, suicide and torture... so far. Now adding: depression, cheating, heartbreak, underage, implied prostitution, suicidal thoughts, someone having acid thrown on them, smut, implied rape/non-con, self-harm. I'll add more as the story wears on, just in case.

Disclaimer: 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 or the playlist. Enjoy c:

AN: NOT CONNECTED TO THE PREVIOUS TWO. I REPEAT, NOT CONNECTED TO THE PREVIOUS TWO. It may seem like it, because it's the same splotchy writing style, but they're two different verses. The other one was more Pre-Catching Fire Post-Hunger Games. This is Post-Mockingjay.

Song: Lullaby by the Spill Canvas

It's those pills that you don't need to take,
medicating perfection, now that's a mistake.
I know that you're spent, just let me sing you to sleep.
It's your finger and how I'm wrapped around it.

Katniss stares numbly at the bottle of whiskey dangling dangerously from Haymitch's middle and ring finger. Her breathing hitches, but she doesn't dare make anything louder of a sound.

Told you. No one can love you. He has to be drunk to love you.

Shut up. Shut up.

He doesn't love you. You're ruining his fucking life. He'll only be happy if you're dead.

"Do you hate me?" Katniss asks meekly, staring at her boyfriend - the word was still new on her tongue - in confusion and hurt. Haymitch looks up, startled. The bottle falls from his fingers and crashes onto the tile floors. Katniss winces, takes four steps back, ready to bolt. Ready to run. Flight or fight instinct, and his was flight.

"No, sweetheart, I don't… god, why would you ask that?" Haymitch asks, standing awkwardly and making his way towards the frail girl - woman now, actually, he still had to remind himself of it.

"No, no, tell the truth! I'm ruining your life, right? That's why you have to drink to look at me or kiss me or fuck me. You hate me."

"Katniss, no, that's… that's not why I drink. God you're the most beautiful fuckin'... jesus fuck, I love you so much it hurts. How could I hate you? That's so fucked up… fuck..." Haymitch inhales sharply and takes the last couple of steps towards Katniss. The scent of whiskey radiates off of him and Katniss back steps habitually, cowering for a split second. The instinct to run overpowers her, and she spares a glance at the door. Since when was she such a coward, afraid of a man who can barely stand, yet alone hurt her?

When she turns back Haymitch's slate eyes are bloodshot and brimming with tears. He decides not to run. Or hit him, like she also wants to do.

Instead, she throws herself at Haymitch and buries her face in her lovers neck. Haymitch is drunk and unsteady and they fall back onto the floor, Haymitch with a loud groan of pain. "Whoa, whoa."

"I thought you hated me. I love you. I can't deal with you hating me."

"I would never hate you, gorgeous," Haymitch whispers, cupping Katniss' face with a shaky hand. His breath reeks of alcohol and Katniss internally cringes again, but she leans forward anyways, presses her lips against Haymitch's just briefly. It's not a kiss, more like a comforting brush of the lips. "I just… I drink because I hate myself. And because it's damn near twenty-five years of habit ingrained in my system."

"Don't. Don't, please don't. Hate yourself, I mean. I'll help you, I promise - I'll love you so much that you don't need to love yourself," Katniss mutters, burying her face in the crook of Haymitch's neck. It's so unlike her, so out of her character that it makes him wonder if his addiction is hurting more than his liver. Haymitch pulls his girl closer to him, listens to her beating heart and hums.

"I love you, I love you, I love you, I love you…"

While you were sleeping I figured out everything,
I was constructed for you, and you were molded for me.
Now I feel your name, coursing through my veins.
You shine so bright it's insane, you put the sun to shame.