mgowriter's note: Reading too much Suzanne Collins lately. Thinking excessively in fragments. This chapter's reference: pages 166-168 of Catching Fire :]
Chapter 5: The Kitchen, Take Two
Effie stands outside the now familiar house, third one on the street, in the Victor's Village. The darkness that envelopes it is broken by the faint light coming from within. She tucks a stray strand of hair behind her ear, adjusts her clothes for the second time, and rings the doorbell. Footsteps approach, and moments later, the door swings open. Haymitch stands within the frame. He has a genuine smile on his face.
"Effie Trinket at my door. I must've done something right today."
Effie returns his smile. She feels her nervousness dissolve. "I was worried it might be too late. I didn't want to intrude."
"Nonsense, sweetheart. You know I always have time for you."
She blushes at his words. Haymitch doesn't do it often, but when he turns on the charm, it's hard to resist.
"We just finished the photo shoot, but they want the pictures of the wedding dresses at the Capitol by morning. I thought…I'd come say hi before the train leaves."
"The one event Katniss was truly looking forward to," Haymitch says, with a hint of teasing in his voice. He motions for her to come in.
"It could've gone a lot worse," Effie says. "She's getting better at these things."
She looks around the entryway. From what she can see, the house has gone through a dramatic transformation since the last time she was here. Everything is in its proper place, the unpleasant odor is gone from the air, and a layer of dust no longer coats the furniture.
"A new housekeeper," Haymitch answers her unasked question. "Katniss' idea."
. . .
Effie follows him into the kitchen. Now tidy and clean, it's a far cry from what she witnessed just a few months ago. He places a pot of coffee on the stove, and watches her settle into one of the chairs at the dining table. It has been four months since they've seen each other, but even in the middle of the night, with wrinkles in her clothes and exhaustion in her eyes, she is more beautiful than he remembers. He smiles at the memory of their last run-in in this very spot.
The coffee doesn't take long to fill the room with its aroma. Haymitch searches for the only pair of matching mugs in the house and pours the steaming black liquid carefully. He sets one down next to Effie, but instead of picking it up, she reaches for his hand.
He's facing away from her and allows himself to close his eyes for a brief moment. The warmth in her touch sends ripples through his skin. She stands and moves towards him.
The warning at the back of his mind makes its way into his consciousness. He can't do this, for a million reasons; because she lives in the Capitol, and he lives in District 12, because she's innocent and caring, and he's a miserable drunk, because it's unheard of for an escort and a mentor to be together. Because of the piece of paper he received this morning that exists now only as ashes in his fireplace. The one with the numbers 3, 7, 11 written carefully in degradable ink. The rebellion has started, and he's not naïve enough to think that there will be a place for love, for a life with Effie.
Haymitch isn't given a chance to speak. The first touch of Effie's lips to his sends a surge of energy through his body, and the next ignites a desire that he struggles to contain. Her lips are impossibly soft. He feels himself returning the kiss, losing control, hungering for more.
He allows himself a few more seconds of bliss before breaking the contact.
"Effie," he breathes. "We can't."
"I know," she says with regret. "I have to get back to the train."
He tries to explain but she has her finger over his lips and a mischievous grin on her face.
"Save that thought. It's only two months until the Games. Tell me when I see you again."
He nods, slowly. She savors one last kiss before reluctantly letting go. He watches her climb into the waiting car from the kitchen window. Seconds later, the car disappears from his view.
He rubs at his face, and sighs deeply. Grabbing the closest liquor bottle, he sits to pour himself a generous drink. He continues to do this, glass after glass, until the kitchen is lit with the first rays of sunrise.
Hazelle, his housekeeper, unlocks the front door earlier than usual. She shoots a disapproving look at the almost empty bottle in his hand, then says something about sweeping the floors upstairs. Katniss is the second person to walk in unannounced, and for a minute he thinks about switching the locks. Instead, he suggests a walk to town, because he needs to pay the Ripper a visit. He needs a little more liquid courage to sort out his feelings for Effie, and a little more than that to prepare himself for her next visit.