Originally requested by ellanainthetardis for a cuddling list ("The hayffie chocolate box") on Tumblr: 14 for the hayffiechoc please! (author's note: Nr. 14, "in the dark")

Moments Lost

It never got quite dark in the Capitol, not down on the streets where the Capitolians celebrated. If he turned his head he'd see the large red digits of the clock down below counting down the days and hours, minutes and seconds until the beginning of the Third Quarter Quell.

Haymitch sat in the bay window with a bottle in hand and the robe tied loosely over his stomach. He'd been here for some time getting drunker by the minute and watching Effie.

They never slept in the same bed. That was a rule he'd set up many years ago when they were still in their twenties and had started doing whatever it was that they were doing.

But the stress over Katniss and Peeta going back into the arena and the hot mess they were all in had undoubtedly taken its toll on her. Now she lay sprawled out on her stomach, dead to the world and Haymitch had retreated to his bay window where he'd been watching her for the past hour.

He couldn't see her face, hidden as it was by a crown of strawberry blonde hair but he saw her breathing – an oddly calming sight in all this misery. Even in the room's dim light he saw the pale bruises on her body, caused by his eager hands. He shouldn't have been so rough with her. But it seemed the more stress they were under the rougher their sex became. His own back stung from where she'd dug her nails in when she climaxed.

He swallowed a mouthful from his bottle that was all but empty now and wondered when he'd stopped minding having her in his bed.

There'd been a time when he couldn't wait to get her out of there. Right after they fucked, each time, he felt like a traitor, like he betrayed his family's memory by being with her. He used to take long showers after, trying to cleanse himself and scrubbing the artificial smell of her perfume from his body.

And still he kept stumbling into her arms after dark, night after night, drunk and a mess, trying to forget.

He told himself it didn't mean anything. That she didn't mean anything to him.

When had it changed?

He sat there watching her sleep and tried to remember when but it was no use. Slowly without him even realizing it or wanting it she'd rooted herself in his heart.

It was like getting dandelions in the back garden that he just couldn't get rid off.

He cared about her. More than she was aware of.

He'd drunk the bottle dry and Haymitch pulled himself off the bay window to get another. He was drunker than he thought. He felt it now when he stood up, gaze still on her.

It'd been selfish to make her important to him. Did she know how much danger she was in? She must. She wasn't an idiot.

When they'd help the victors break out of the arena he could not let her out of his sight.

Snow would get her if he could.

Effie shivered in her sleep, goose bumps rose all over her naked skin and Haymitch lingered.

There were still many hours left until dawn. He could crawl in with her. Hold her, really hold her and tell her she mattered to him, that he'd do anything to keep her safe.

He could. But he didn't.

Maybe after we've all been bunkered down in Thirteen, he thought. And far away from here.

So he pulled the cover back over her body, making sure she was warm. He left her to rest and he didn't tell her anything.

Unaware of how deeply he would regret it in just a few days.