AN: First off, I want to say a big thank you / I love you/ I owe you/ YOU DA BEST to my reviewers, all of you, because believe it or not, YOU are the reason I update and continue to write! *yayyyyy* but seriously, you guys. you make this all real.
Second, like Peeniss0314, you may be wondering about Peeta. To quote said reviewer, "he seems to be too good a person to just allow Haymitch to scream, constantly, and do nothing about it". I agree! Though I kinda want to forget he exists sometimes because he blows holes in my ship (oops!), don't worry, I haven't forgotten about him ;)
It isn't long until I'm woken up by the yells again.
This time when I enter his room, I know what to expect. I enter swiftly, going directly to his side and peel the sheets off his slick body, muttering, "Shh," as I climb in beside him. He continues to moan as I lay down, and this time, though his back is to me once again, I move close to him, my nose between his shoulder blades as I mutter, "Shut up, you bastard."
I don't even hesitate as I wrap my arms around his torso and settle down into my own tepid nightmares.
This time he wakes me up, shifting under my arm. I squint my eyes open and see a bare chest shifting before me, suddenly realizing that once again, I'm waking up in Haymitch's arms; he must've shifted in the night, for this time I'm nuzzled into his chest. I reach a hand out, willing him to stop moving as the sudden loss of body heat sends chills through me. I find him, and he freezes.
"Sweetheart."
He shifts uncomfortably, but my fingers stay put.
He's stalk still, so I let my fingers begin to move across his chest, drawing patterns on his exposed flesh and raking through the golden hairs found there.
"This can't keep happening," he mumbles.
"What can't?" I ask, my voice coming out a lot more breathy than I'd bargained for.
I can feel his chest rise and fall beneath my fingers, heavily, more heavily than a waking body would normally breathe, and my eyes find their way to his, one pair of cold, gray, empty Seam eyes to another.
His are darker than usual though, shadowed with something, and as my fingers find his neck and begin to inch up it, I find myself slowly tilting my head up to him, my fingers entwining with the hair at the base of his neck as his eyes flutter shut for just a moment...
Until he pushes my arm away. Wimpy effort, too, as if he doesn't actually want to but is compelled to do so by some invisible force.
"You don't belong here," he says, "not like this."
I want to scowl at him, but I keep my face controlled as I answer back matter-of-factly, "It helps, though. You shut up when I'm here. Isn't that enough?"
"For me, maybe, but not for you. You're so young. I've done enough damage already."
So he rolls away from me and swings his legs over the side of the bed to get up, leave me hanging once again. He pushes off the bed and steps toward the door, his shaggy blond hair all rumpled and his plaid pajama pants hanging off his hips. A jolt of anger rushes through me at this, at being ignored and maybe something else, and I spring off the bed and push him up against the wall.
He opens his mouth, probably to swear at me or tell me to get out, but I silence him as my lips press into his. My plan is to set him off-kilter, to stop him just enough for me to explain how broken we all are after being pieces in the Capitol's Games. But with this kiss, I find myself lingering. Once I started, I could hardly pull myself away. Haymitch was usually all power and punch... But here, he's different. He isn't responding, not right away, but after a few seconds I sense a lack of resistance as his lips let me mould to his. And when I finally build up the courage to pull away, his eyes are closed. He's shaking his head.
"What do you want from me, Katniss?" he asks sadly.
"For you to feel whole again."
And I don't know it until after the words have spewed from my mouth... But it's true. I'm tired of seeing him hurt, dried up, broken into pieces. I want him whole again.
"You've been gone." I'm eating dinner at home that evening with the rest of my fractured family when Prim makes the quiet observation.
My mother gives me a look from across the table. I know she can smell the Haymitch on me, and I'm not sure I want to know what she thinks I'm capable of with that man. I forget she exists as I turn my attention to Prim. She breaks into a smile. "And he's been quiet. What did you say to him?"
"I told him he was keeping us up. Told him to knock it off," I smirk her special smile at her. "Guess he listened."
Her lips tilt up in response before opening for a spoonful of dinner.
Short chapter, I know. Don't worry, I'm uploading another tonight! Also, how 'bout them new Haymitchiness developments, eh? Tell me what you think in reviews?