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I do not own the Hunger Games nor its characters.

Chapter Twenty-Two

I may have survived the Hunger Games but there's nothing quite like the pain of being poked with pins all over your body. I'm covered in a thin fabric, which is apparently meant to help with the final size and shape of the suit that Vieve is fitting me for, and I think she's enjoying watching me squirm every time she places another pin in. I've asked her to make me a new suit for the Victory Dinner at the Justice Building next week but I think she knows my real agenda. We've been seeing a lot of each other over the last few weeks but it still doesn't feel like enough. Every time we take a walk I feel upset once it's finished and every time she comes over for dinner I want to chase after her as she walks home. She's been driving me crazy simply by talking to me on a regular basis, I just don't understand.

"Sorry," she says through her laughs after sticking yet another pin in to my leg.

"This suit better be really good," I say.

"You know, I think you're lying to me. I'm sure you have plenty of suits, this is all just an excuse to come and see me."

I give a non-committal grunt that makes her smirk, I knew she was on to me! I'm useless when it comes to women, with me and Tilly it just sort of naturally happened but I've got no experience in trying to actually get a girl to like me. I should probably give up but every time I think about backing off all I can see is Vieve and her smile and all of my resolve disappears.

"So are you looking forward to meeting Andum Harcourt?" Vieve asks, referring to the latest victor, a scary looking eighteen year old boy from 4.

"No, I hate meeting the Career victors and the way this one was in the arena…well, I don't want to get too close."

"I don't blame you, the way he speared that poor little girl from three was just horrific."

I don't say anything because out of nowhere an image of Clo appears in my head. She will be forever immortalised as the timid fourteen year old I knew her as, not the twenty year old she should be now. I remember the night I saw her face in the sky and the guilt I felt; the feeling that I could have done something to save her, anything at all. I could have just stabbed the Career who was heading for her and let her run away, I was strong enough to fight but she wasn't. She, like the tribute from 3, was just a little girl.

"I could have saved her," I say, anger growing in my voice. I clench my fists to try and stop it boiling over.

"Pardon?"

"I could have saved her and I didn't!" I shout, "She was only fourteen! She should have lived!" I can feel my face turning red as I push over one of the clothing rails, I don't know what I'm doing but I have no control to stop it. All I can see is obstacles that need to be removed; squirrels, hedges and poisonous trees. "I should have saved her!"

"Who, Haymitch?" Says Vieve, trying to remain calm, despite the quiver in her voice. "Who do you think?! Clo!" I slam my fist down on the counter and the pain shoots through my hand but I don't cry out, it's nothing more than I deserve.

I can feel Vieve's arms slowly moving across my back, which causes me to flinch, but she doesn't stop until her left arm is resting on my shoulder. She's so close that I can smell the floral scent that she's wearing. Over the past few weeks it's become so familiar that I welcome it now as she leans into me.

"You couldn't save her, Haymitch, no one could." She wraps her other arm around me and pulls me close, I haven't felt this kind of affection for years and it slowly pulls me out of my hysteria as we stand like this for what seems like hours.

"I'm sorry," I say, "I'll pay for the damage."

"Don't be silly." She pulls away and gives me a reassuring smile that lets me know she's not mad at me. There's an understanding in her eyes that I've not seen in anyone else, except maybe Titam.

I take my chances and lean in towards her, placing my lips on hers and kissing them softly. She doesn't move away, instead she responds the same way and moves her body a little closer so that I can put my hands around her waist.

"That took you long enough," she says with a smirk.

The front door opens and Vieve's father, a balding man in his late forties, walks in and looks around the shop in shock before laying his eyes on mine and Vieve's rather close position. He just grunts and walks through the shop in to the back room, causing Vieve and I burst out laughing.

This feels good. Laughing. And kissing. This feels normal.

The Victory Dinner soon comes along and I'm wearing a dark blue suit that Vieve has made for me. She didn't even charge me for it so it looks like there are some perks to wooing the dressmaker's daughter.

The speech that Andum gave earlier in the day was pleasant enough, he said how different 12 was from 4 and that everyone was treating him so well but none of it washed with the crowd. Everyone just stood there glaring at him.

I make sure to get a seat next to Mags at the dinner and she spends the whole evening cracking jokes and trying to embarrass her latest victor. I get the feeling that she doesn't like his Career mentality and would have been quite happy if someone else had won. Of course, being a mentor you can't think like this, even if you hate your tribute the thought of not bringing them home is enough to motivate you to at least try and help them.

When the dancing commences Mags pulls me aside under the pretense that she wants to catch up but we both know what her real intentions are.

"Anything new?" I whisper, although the music is loud enough to drown us out.

"Did you notice the new Gamemaker this year? His name's Plutarch Heavensbee? He's a bit older than you."

"No, sorry," I reply. I spent most of the Games in a drunken blur and I don't tend to notice when they employ new Gamemakers; they're not worth my time.

"Well, he was asking me a lot of questions about the Dark Days and life before the Hunger Games. It all seemed quite risky if you ask me, I mean, you wouldn't think that anyone from the Capitol would be interested, would you?"

"No, they're only interested in themselves. Still, it doesn't mean he's on our side."

"Of course not but just keep an eye out, see if he says anything to you when you see him."

I nod, it's not exactly the news I was hoping for but it will do. If there's any chance that we could have someone who lives and works in the Capitol on our team then it's definitely worth looking in to.

"I noticed that you've not been drinking…" she says and I just shrug. "Any reason?"

"No," I say, turning my head away so she can't see the smile I'm trying to hide. I don't feel ready to talk about Vieve yet, as much as I adore Mags I just want to keep Vieve for myself for the time being. If I start telling people it will only put her in danger.

"It's a girl, isn't it?" She squeals, hitting my leg, and I know there's no point in lying any longer, she's too clever. She is organising a mass rebellion against Panem, after all.

"Yeah, there's a girl," I say. "But I'm worried, Mags. After what happened with Tilly…"

"Stop right there! Snow has already made an example of you, I very much doubt he would try that, again. I hate to break it to you but you're old news now, young man."

"You might be right."

"Of course I am! Now, tell me what she's like!"

I spend the rest of the evening telling her all about Vieve and how we met, which means I have to relive the ordeal with Chester but Mags is nothing but sympathetic. She says that her and her husband decided against children because with her being a victor it was more than likely that the Reaping would be fixed and her children would be chosen. Even so, they were both desperate to be parents.

I feel bad that I didn't know she'd had a husband; I've known her for five years and it seems like the whole time has been about me and my problems. But Mags being Mags, she just tells me to shut up but, despite this, I have to ask what happened to her husband.

"He died ten years ago, he went out on his boat and a storm hit. But we had over twenty years together, so I'm grateful for that."

We're then interrupted by Andum's escort who is getting worked up because if they don't all leave within the next ten minutes they might not reach 11 on time, which is ridiculous when the whole tour is scheduled around Andum. I just assume that when these silly Capitol people go to Escort School or wherever it is they go, they are told that if their tributes are late by just one minute they'll end up in the Hunger Games themselves.

Mags waves away the hysterical woman before hugging me goodbye and saying that we'll catch up in the Capitol. Only another six months to go.