"Try to measure loss
Measure the silence of a house
The unheard footsteps at the doorway
The unemployment of the mouth
The waking up, having forgotten
And remembering again the full extent
Of what forever is
With each grave
I think of loss and I can only think of you
I couldn't measure it"
- Hozier, Through me (the flood)
Haymitch felt the first drops of rain hit the back of his hand as it reached out to toss another handful of feed to the gaggle of geese. He cracked a half-hearted smile as they squawked and bumped into one another to try and get more food. As more rain fell from the sky, he looked up at the grey looming overhead trying to think of the last time he saw her. As the months passed it became harder to focus on the details of memories. Feelings though, tended to stick around.
Feelings of frustration and annoyance, which over the years had morphed into admiration and fondness.
But he could no longer remember what she'd been wearing the last time he held her. Was her real hair that golden blonde or had the sun, coming through the blinds on her window, altered the color? However, the scent of lavender and chamomile never left him. The warmth she radiated as he wrapped his arms around her could still be felt, and the sound of soft laughter as he kissed her neck still lingered in his ears. He dreaded the idea that one day these things might abandon him too.
Mostly, he remembered feeling happy whenever she was around, but happiness had frightened him more than anything. With all that went on during that time how could it not? Rebellion, war, and the inevitability of death which threatened to crush any chance at lasting happiness just as it had before.
So, he simply did what he'd always done best, and pushed her away; convinced her he didn't care. Convincing himself had proven a more difficult feat.
He'd already lost his mother, his brother, his girl. There was a quote he found in a book just the other day: "Now I'll have to remember you for longer than I have known you". Haymitch had been clinging to fading images his whole life. But what's one more?
Although he could barely admit it, he longed to hear the sound of her voice. If only she could see him now, missing her nagging, her jabs, and quick remarks.
She'd complain that the geese were too loud or that the temperature was too cold. Her back would be turned to him as she would be running back towards the house saying that the rain was messing up her wig.
The rain began pouring down as he walked lazily towards the porch and opened the squeaky door. Kicking his boots off, he walked through the kitchen into the living room, picking up his half-empty glass from earlier and knocking back the remaining whiskey. The familiar burn on the way down his throat failed to comfort him as it once did.
He grabbed the bottle and quickly filled his glass again, downing it just as fast. He went to fill it yet again, but his eyes were drawn to the sound of a door slamming across the road.
He watched as Katniss went out in the pouring rain with her bow in hand and made a run for the woods.
"What the hell?" he muttered in exasperation grabbing a jacket off the coat rack and tucking his feet into the first pair of shoes he could find as he rushed out after her. He pulled his hood up and tried to pick up his pace but he had a difficult time catching up. In the months since he'd come back to twelve, he'd been less than kind to his body. He hadn't done much but take care of the geese and numb his pain with liquor. Had he known that chasing down Katniss would be on his to-do list perhaps he would've better prepared.
Thankfully, the rain began to lighten by the time he reached her, but he was already soaked. Unfortunately, he hadn't thought about footwear on his dash out the door as his slippers were now muddy and torn, barely covering his feet anymore.
He didn't say anything at first, as her bow was drawn and aimed at something and he didn't want to risk frightening her while she was armed. Once the arrow released into the sky, missing its target of a very fast squirrel, he deemed it was safe to speak.
"What the hell are you doing out here?" he asked in an aggravated and exhausted tone.
By her lack of reaction, he gathered that she knew he'd followed her.
"Go home, Haymitch," she spoke without facing him. Her words were stern and cold, but he knew better.
She reached for another arrow and lined up for a new target.
He sighed, frustrated, but trying hard to speak in a way that wouldn't make that so obvious.
"Come on, let's go back together and we can talk about… whatever this shit that's got you upset is."
He walked over to her and put a hand on the back of her shoulder in an attempt to comfort her but she shrugged it off in annoyance.
"There's nothing to talk about." her words were softer this time but laced with anger.
"Bullshit," he said, stepping closer, forcing her to turn around and face him.
Her face shot up and morphed into an expression of disappointment.
"You've been drinking." It wasn't a question, simply a statement.
Haymitch sighed and shook his head.
"No, don't change the subject. This isn't about me. There's something wrong with..what…what is it something with Peeta?"
She scoffed.
"Don't act like you care." she pushed past him and walked back towards the victor's village.
"Would I really be out here soaking wet and running after you if I didn't care?"
She remained silent and picked up her pace, leaving him a few yards behind.
"Hey!' he shouted.
He'd given up on trying to match her speed, his soggy excuses for slippers being even more unhelpful as they weighed his feet down and squished with each step.
By the time he finally caught up to her again, she was in her front yard.
"This isn't over!" he yelled, kicking off his shoes and walking barefoot in the mud.
She stopped and looked back at him, her face stained with tears or rain he couldn't tell.
He walked past her and sat down on the front steps to her house, patting the spot beside him for her to sit down.
She begrudgingly agreed to sit but refused to talk for what felt like forever.
"So are you ever gonna tell me wh-" he was cut off.
"He wants to marry me," she whispered, unable to meet his eyes.
He laughed to himself and she looked a him as though he'd just slapped her.
"Forgive me…but I'm not seeing the problem here." He held his hands up to feign innocence.
She stood up and took off her bow and quiver. When she sat back down he noticed she did so slightly farther away from him.
"I finally started feeling somewhat like myself again. After everything that happened, I'm not sure that I'm ready… for things to change again. He wants more than I can give, at least more than I can give right now," she admitted.
"Alright…So he asked you to marry him?" he asked.
"No."
"Has he hinted that he wants to ask?" He spoke conveying his confusion.
Katniss took a deep breath before continuing.
"I found a ring under a loose floorboard in our bedroom. I put it back and I just started running."
Haymitch took a moment to think about how to navigate this conversation. Guiding her through the games and a rebellion seemed simpler than advising her on her love life.
"Just because you found a ring doesn't mean he's proposing soon. Maybe he just found one he liked and wanted to get it for the future," he suggested.
Katniss nodded but remained silent. Her eyes seemed to be searching for something out in the distance that wasn't there.
"Look, I'm not the best at this relationship stuff–" He paused.
"Yeah no kidding." Katniss let out a breathy laugh, her eyes finally looking over at him.
He smiled and nodded.
"Alright give me a break here. When it came to the emotional stuff I always let Eff–" his smile fell just slightly, but enough for Katniss to pick up on it and reach her hand out to cover his.
It was his turn to look away. He couldn't meet her eyes. Not when he knew they would be tainted with pity and that the sight would require the rest of the alcohol in his possession to try and erase. He fought the urge to move his hand away from hers, instead, he turned it so he could grab on and gently squeeze her fingers.
There were a few moments of silence before he spoke again.
"Do you love him?" he asked, slightly uncomfortably.
Feeling it was safe to do so, he turned to look her in the eyes again.
"Of course," she answered quickly, sounding slightly offended he would even ask.
He nodded.
"Okay…Could you see yourself marrying him?"
"I guess so, yeah but–"
It was his turn to cut her off.
"But what?"
She shook her head.
"The timing isn't–"
He let go of her hand and held it up to stop her.
"Katniss."
He paused to take a breath.
"Take it from me. The timing's never gonna be right, everything always goes to shit. As long as you both have each other, what the hell is the difference?"
Her eyes went back to searching outward, but he knew she was processing.
"Maybe you should just try talking to him. You're not ready for an engagement right now but how is he supposed to read your mind? Tell him."
She nodded in agreement.
"And for fuck's sake when you do tell the boy, do it gently. Remind him that you still love him and that you might want to marry him in the future… because I already chased one of you down in the woods I do not want a repeat later tonight."
She smiled a rare genuine smile and he watched as her shoulders released some of the tension that had settled there.
"Thank you, Haymitch," she said softly.
"Yeah, yeah" he muttered.
She stood up and grabbed her things, headed up the rest of the steps to her front door.
"I was thinking now that the rain's lightened up I might walk to town and bring Peeta some lunch," she said.
"He still working at that flower shop all the way across town?" he asked.
"Every other day. I've never visited him there before since it's so out of the way, but the storms cleared up and I've got nothing better to do. Care to join me? The exercise will do you good."
"I think I got enough exercise for today," he said.
"Too bad. You're coming, I'm getting changed and you should do the same. Meet me back here in ten."
"I don't take orders from you," he said, groaning as he got up and started walking back towards his house.
"Ten minutes!" she shouted as she opened her front door and walked inside.
After getting into dry clothes and putting on shoes that would survive the journey he walked back outside to see Katniss standing waiting with a smirk.
"I said ten minutes. That was thirteen and a half."
He waved his hand in the air mockingly.
"You think this kind of perfection just….happens?" he faked a scoff.
She chuckled and led the way.
The first ten minutes of their journey were filled with silence. Haymitch wished it would remain that way so he could continue to admire the peaceful sounds of crickets humming and the repetition of their footsteps crunching against the gravel.
"So you are drinking again." Katniss stated flatly.
And there went his "peace".
Haymitch's stomach lurched but he remained quiet. However, his silence had acted as confirmation enough.
"Is this because of what happened to Effie?" she pushed.
Still he had nothing to say. He hoped the subject would be dropped if he just kept on walking and refused to acknowledge her.
"If she were here, she would be disappointed to know–"
He stopped dead in his tracks, unable to hold his tongue any longer.
"Well that's the goddamn point! She's not here!" he shouted.
His hands clenched into fists so tight he was sure blood had been drawn.
"She should be nagging me to clean the house, or to paint the bedroom her favorite shade of purple, or make room in my closet for all of her ridiculous outfits!"
He looked up for a moment at the clouds overhead, still grey, still threatening to pour down upon them at any moment without mercy.
"It's supposed to be her job to go out in the rain and talk about boy problems. She should be here. She should have survived, not me! But just like every woman I ever..."
He hesitated.
"Like every woman I ever loved , she had to go and fucking die. So yeah I reached for the bottle again… I let everyone down… again. We all find ways to cope…ways to keep goin'. And I don't judge you for yours so don't you fucking judge me for mine."
She realized she'd crossed a line. He recognized the look of instant regret on her face and noticed how she blinked away unshed tears.
"I'm sorry," She said softly.
He regretted yelling, and letting his anger get the best of him yet again. Taking a calming breath he broke the silence.
"Don't be sorry. Let's just keep walking," he walked past her and waited for her to follow.
There were a few seconds before he heard the second pair of footsteps behind him.
The pair remained silent until they reached the market to buy Peeta's lunch. From the market to the flower shop the pair discussed benign and dull topics like the weather or town reconstruction. When they finally arrived at their destination, Haymitch came to a halt.
"Alright you go ahead inside and drop off his food, I'll be waiting out here," he said.
"You don't want to come in and see the shop?" Katniss asked.
"Nah, the scent of all those flowers will give me a damn headache."
"Alright," She shrugged.
Haymitch allowed his eyes to roam over the streets, watching people as they walked by. He chose to ignore the pang of jealousy within himself as he watched an older couple walk hand in hand.
He also disregarded his misplaced anger aimed at a family laughing as they watched their youngest dance around.
He forced himself to look elsewhere and his eyes instead fell upon the building directly across from where he stood. It was a new apartment building. Part of the district's restoration efforts. New properties built with the hopes of new people moving to twelve to occupy them.
It was modest, but the bright red bricks stood out when surrounded by the other crumbling, soot-covered buildings that had been there for decades.
His mind was jolted back to the present when the bell on the shop door rang as Katniss came back outside. He noticed the brown sack of food was still in her possession.
"What happened? Did he already eat or something?" he asked nonchalantly.
"No." She looked confused.
"Well then?" he prompted.
"The shop owner says that she knows Peeta, and that he comes in often to buy flowers, but that he doesn't work here…he never has."
It was his turn to look confused.
"Did you get the name of the shop wrong or something?" he asked.
"This is the only flower shop in town now. This is where he's been telling me he works," as she spoke, confusion was slowly being replaced with anger.
She looked around at the other buildings.
"If he doesn't work here where the hell does he go every other day?" Haymitch asked aloud.
"I don't–" she drifted off, stepping out closer to the street, facing the apartment building.
Haymitch turned to see what she was looking at.
"What is it?" he asked.
"Third floor, second window from the left," she stated coldly.
In the window, he saw a familiar figure facing the street, completely unaware that he'd been spotted.
"What the hell is he doing in there?" he asked to himself.
Before anyone could answer his question, a blonde woman approached Peeta in the window and wrapped her arms around him for a hug. After they released one another she turned to the side allowing both Haymitch and Katniss to see that the woman was heavily pregnant. Peeta placed his hands on the woman's stomach and leaned in to kiss her on the cheek.
Before Haymitch could even react Katniss had already started walking back towards home.
Haymitch on the other hand decided he would either get to the bottom of whatever misunderstanding this was or he'd confirm both his and Katniss's suspicions. The latter would ultimately result in him having to beat the shit out of Peeta Mellark.
The walk from where he stood to the front door of the apartment went by in a blur.
Before he knew what he was doing, he'd already knocked.
He heard muffles that resembled a woman speaking and then high-heeled steps approaching.
As the door peeled open he had expected the sight of a shocked Peeta Mellark. Haymitch wouldn't have been surprised had the door revealed a young unrecognizable blonde woman either.
However, what Haymitch Abernathy had not prepared for in all of his 46 years of life was to see a ghost open that door with a casual smile.
"Effie?" he whispered.
"I'm sorry…I think you have the wrong apartment. Is there something I can help you with?" Blue eyes searched his for answers that he couldn't produce.
He was speechless, his head spinning with so many questions. His eyes drifted downward from hers, landing on her pregnant stomach covered protectively by her hand.
His knees went weak and buckled as his vision blurred.
The last thing he heard was her voice calling out to Peeta for help when everything faded to black.