Original Prompt (anon): I can't believe you are only 15 years old, your writing style is incredible. Ever consider pursuing a career in the field? Also, I'd really like a "Part 2" to the snippet you wrote about Haymitch spilling his drink on Effie. I thoroughly enjoyed it ;)

"What the hell are you doing?"

Effie looked up from the ground. "What does it look like?"

Haymitch didn't answer as he continued down the rest of the stairs.

"I am cleaning up the mess you made."

He frowned and waved his hand at her, slumping down on the sofa and opening a bottle of something. "Just leave it will you?" He asked, the cork still in his mouth. He spat it out and chuckled when he heard her gasp.

"You are vile." He saw her stand, hands on her hips. "And no, I will not 'just leave it'. If this glass was not properly cleaned before use, there could be all kinds of bacteria and germs all over it. Now, I'm not sure about you, but I would rather not get blood poisoning from standing on a shard of dirty broken glass -"

She continued on a tirade about cleanliness and a multitude of diseases the Haymitch doubted were even real. Her lecture was supposed to be educational and informative, yet Haymitch could feel his brain cells slowly dying at each word.

He watched as her arms flailed wildly at her sides as she began to go into a great amount of depth on the matter and Haymitch was certain that he had never seen her talk so extensively about something. That was saying a lot –her oration over the importance of proper behaviour in public a few years back still haunted him to this day.

It was strange how he forgot the rest of the night except for the exact moment Effie Trinket showed up at one of the bars in the Capitol, cheeks a violent scarlet to match that hideous blazer of hers. Evidently the woman had a way of worming herself into every crevice of his forgotten memories and it pissed him off greatly.

He realised as she talked that he needed to do something, anything, to quieten her.

Before he was even fully aware of his actions, he had backed Effie Trinket up against the nearest wall, his hands at either side of her waist, palms flat against the plaster.

"Shut up." he mumbled, his face in such a close proximity to hers he wouldn't even have to move an inch to kiss her.

She raised her eyebrows. "That was really very rude of you to-"

Haymitch backed her up further, a small gasp escaping her lips as he did. He felt her eyelashes tickling his cheek.

"God, you're so fucking annoying."

"What?" she asked, apparently in disbelief.

"You. Are. So. Fucking. Annoying."

"How dare you. I am not annoying, I am simply informing you on the basics of cleanliness in the home, a subject in which you are clearly lacking in knowledge."

"Touché, sweetheart."

She huffed indignantly, her warm breath reaching his neck. "Well how would you propose that I stop annoying you so that I may get out of this… rather awkward position?"

Haymitch smiled to himself. The possibilities were endless.

"How about you just keep your mouth shut, give me some peace and quiet for once. You talk far too much."

"Oh, I talk too much?" she mused and paused for a moment. "How else do you think that I should use my lips, then? If not for talking."

Haymitch felt his mouth go dry at her somewhat suggestive proposition and all he found himself able to do was chuckle darkly and allow his imagination to romp. "I'm not sure that you'd like my answer to that, sweetheart."

Effie took that as an invitation to continue and she popped open the grey pearlescent button. "Try me."

He didn't grace her with a reply - or rather, he didn't have time to before her lips were on his.

Haymitch took a moment to try and decipher whether this was some insanely weird dream and he would wake up truly disturbed with himself for managing to conjure up such a situation. Somewhere along the way however, he found himself kissing her back.

He felt her smile as she continued to work blindly on his shirt fastenings as he kissed her. Once done and rid of the fabric, he felt her arms around his neck, urging him on.

He ran a hand through her hair, coiling golden curls around his fingers that he could never have imagined until now. He had no idea why she would want to hide such beauty away underneath the artificial shit she called fashion.

Beauty? He had to stop thinking like that – this was a one-time thing. She had tempted him and he had succumbed. That was all this was.

He ended his train of thought as he heard her laughing between kisses, the sweet tone so full of desire hanging in the air.

"You're eager," she said in a whisper that sent another wave of lust crashing through his entire being.

"And you're a damn temptress."

He took her hands by the wrist, pinning them on the wall above her head. She was trying to take control and he wouldn't allow it. She made a noise but he swallowed it with another deep kiss before she could laugh again.

Effie swung a leg up around his hips, pulling him into her and eliciting a deep groan from his throat. He took the hint and pulled her other leg around him to meet the other. She locked her legs tightly around his hips, thoroughly enjoying the feel of him against her and the next thing she knew, her back was against the threadbare and somewhat rough sofa cushions.

His name fell from her lips absentmindedly as he went about his business, leaving no patch of skin untouched and ,in return, she let her hand run lower and underneath his trouser line, prompting a throaty groan.

He went to kiss her again but he felt a finger at his lips.

Effie pushed herself up of the sofa, smiling down smugly at the half undone man. "I'm going to get my dress."

"What?" he breathed finding it a little difficult to slow his heart back to a normal rate.

"I'm going to get my dress. If I leave it soaking for too long in your bathroom sink, it will ruin the fabric completely."

Haymitch decided to keep his mouth shut about the wig; evidently she hadn't seen the state of it yet.

"Jesus, Effie, can it not wait?"

"No, it can't."

She took a moment to brush her hair back to where it was supposed to sit and Haymitch watched her as she climbed the stairs.

That woman would be the death of him.