A/N: This has yet to be read by my beta readers but I wanted to post it before I went away to China tomorrow. So if any parts aren't great, they'll be fixed up eventually. [Insert apology for the slow update, but you should all know by now that I don't do fast updates and it's even a miracle I'm still writing this. :P] I'll be back in two weeks so please leave me some nice feedback to return to? This chapter is long and smutty so I think you'll all like it. :)
Chapter 10: Your Bones
Curled up tightly under the covers, limbs clutching limbs and foreheads pressed tightly together, all sense of anger, of hurt, is void. One of Effie's ankles is locked between his, her body in a position she surely wouldn't be able to sleep in if she wasn't so exhausted. In sleep, with the muscles in their faces relaxed, neither of them hiding anything; they look like they don't have a care in the world.
Their alarm soon changes that.
Haymitch bolts upright, the shrill noise having scared him from his deep slumber. He looks around wildly, sees Effie groggily blinking her eyes beside him, and reaches over her to slam his hand down on the button to turn off the ringing sound.
"Five more minutes," Effie mumbles, and Haymitch wonders whether they've switched bodies.
"No, get up. It's the kids' last day of training and we need to make sure they don't waste any of it," he says. His mind is surprisingly clear; he was expecting withdrawal symptoms and was not expecting Effie to be anything but her perky self.
"Mmph, okay," she replies, her voice muffled by her pillow.
He glances over her body, anger once again taking over as he remembers that she told Finnick about them without his permission. He pushes himself up and shuffles into the bathroom to relieve his bladder and get rid of his pesky morning wood. As much as he wants to shag her rotten because she always looks so adorable when she's sleepy, he's still upset and hurt that she broke his trust.
When the escort finally sits up, her body feels tired like it's the end of the day and not the beginning. She presses the button on the bedside table for a glass of water, and sips on the cool liquid as she listens to Haymitch moving around the bathroom. He's about to get into the shower when he realises he can't hear anything from Effie, and wrenches the bathroom door open to check she's awake.
She jolts, spilling water on herself, and snaps. "What?"
"Just checking you're awake," he says, wondering if this is what she feels like when she's trying to get him to move his usually lazy ass.
"Well, I am. And I'm wet," she replies grumpily.
He chuckles; noticing that her white singlet is now see-through at the front. He finds his dick getting hard again, knows she can clearly see it, and decides to ignore his anger at the moment.
"Come shower with me, then you'll truly be wet."
She doesn't miss his double entendre and giggles despite her mood. She puts her glass down and forces herself out of bed, licking her lips at the sight of his erection. She's not sure why she's suddenly tired and in a bad mood; it might just be residual from the night before. She was so upset when he returned drunk, but she hid it as best she could because she was sick of pleading with him to stop drinking only for him to break his promises to try.
He has her pressed up against the glass in less than a minute, her singlet still on and completely soaked as he lifts her left leg over his hip and slides his cock inside her. She bites down on his earlobe, twisting it between her teeth and giggling when he responds by pinching her nipple. The glass is cool behind her back; her front hot from rubbing against his chest. Leaving their negative emotions behind, the pair let themselves fall into the bliss of making love in a steam-filled room. Effie programs the water to smell like jasmine, knowing from experience that this scent doesn't linger too long on the skin - they don't need to be going around smelling the same – while Haymitch teases her breasts through her top and grinds his cock deep inside her.
"Fuck me, that smells good," he mutters against her chest.
She laughs throatily, dragging her fingers through his wet hair and gasping as he lifts her right leg off the floor too. His pelvic bone grinds against her clit as he presses her even more firmly between his body and the shower wall. Unable to do much but moan and bite her lip as he makes her body tingle in delicious ways, Effie lets her eyes close and gives in to Haymitch's dominance. With his lips on her breasts, hands on her ass and cock slamming inside her, he has her orgasming in minutes. She shudders in pleasure and gasps his name against his forehead and he squeezes her ass tightly, rotates his hips in circles for a few tantalising moments before he too is cumming and moaning her name.
Effie's all dolled up for the day, wearing a maroon dress – tight with puffy sleeves and a plunging neckline – paired with a violet wig and a black headpiece. She's had this outfit planned for weeks, like all of her Games outfits, and finds that it matches her mood perfectly. She's happy right now but she's not sure how long that will last given Haymitch's recent behaviour. She knows he's struggling with withdrawal, but she hates that he immediately turns to alcohol when it gets to be too hard; wishes he'd come to her instead.
The bathroom door opens and Haymitch enters her room, leering at her behind as she bends towards her vanity mirror, doing up the clasp of a chunky red necklace. He grins, walking towards her and stopping behind her.
"I like your dress," he says, pouting a little when she straightens herself and turns to face him.
"Thank you. You know I might just forgive you for drinking yesterday," she says softly, looping her arms around his neck with a smile.
Rather than smile back, Haymitch's face turns hard. "You don't know how bloody hard it is."
He steps back from her, pulling her arms forcefully from where they were looped around his neck, watching as her face falls.
"Chaff was drinking and I - I," needed it to get through the meeting, "have a public image to maintain," he says bitterly.
Effie is quiet for a moment, studying the way his nose twitches as he stares at the floor. "You didn't have to actually drink."
You could just douse yourself in alcohol like before you left.
"Fuck, Eff it's not that simple!" he exclaims, his hands slapping his sides, pain creeping across his face.
"I," she sighs, not wanting to start their day off with a fight. "I... I wish it was."
"Yeah, well, I hate to break it to you but it's not. Life isn't some fucking fairytale where all your princess wishes come true. Life is hard."
She clenches her jaw, resisting the urge to hit him, and takes a deep breath. "Come now, let's go to breakfast. You're clearly hungry. Peeta and Katniss will be waiting."
"Yes I'm clearly hungry, that's why I'm angry," he mutters under his breath, pulling faces and mocking her accent as he trails after her down the hall.
Effie whirls around to face him as they reach the living room, the television screen playing a reality show called Two Capitol Girls in District Two. "You know what? Fuck you," she hisses so the tributes don't hear.
Haymitch chuckles; happy to have pissed her off because he's still angry with her. "Oh, fuck me? Please do. I love it when you get all hot and - "
"Shut up!" She shrieks. "You're such a jerk."
"I'm the jerk? Sweetheart, you're the one with your panties in a twist over nothing. Are you sure you're not PMSing?"
"How dare you! - "
"Come now, let's go to breakfast, you're clearly hungry," he repeats her words back to her condescendingly.
Effie glares at him, lips pursed tightly as he simply looks back at her amusedly.
"Now, now, you wouldn't want to be anything less than well-mannered around the tributes, would you? Let me do all the talking, you can just... Sip your tea," Haymitch gives a flourish with his hand and brushes past her, taking the stairs up to the table in twos. He doesn't usually like prolonging their serious arguments, but he's particularly angry with her breaking his trust.
Effie huffs but schools a smile onto her face as she follows him up to the dining room.
"Good morning," she trills at Peeta and Katniss. The boy shows no signs of having heard their argument, but the girl's amused look gives them away.
"What advice have you got for us this morning?" Katniss asks them dryly once they've settled into their chairs and have started eating.
Haymitch ignores her tone and starts giving them advice. He likes Peeta, and he wouldn't say he truly likes Katniss, but he doesn't want her to die and he thinks she has a chance. "This afternoon they'll bring you in one by one and evaluate you. This is important because higher ratings will mean sponsors," Haymitch turns away the avox's alcohol without thinking and Effie masks a smile behind her teacup. "This is the time to show them everything." He turns to Katniss, "There'll be a bow, make sure you use it. Peeta, you make sure to show your strength."
The tributes nod in understanding, both looking a little nervous about this part.
"They'll start with District One; so the two of you will go last. Well, I don't know how else to put this. Make sure they remember you."
Haymitch looks them each in the eye to gauge their emotions. Peeta can barely look at him, seems to be worrying and looks doubtful. Katniss however looks determined; has that fierce look in her eyes that reminds Haymitch why he likes her.
"This morning, I want you to learn any other skills you think might come in necessary in the arena. Make sure you've been to all of the stations. Practice a few more knots, try the plants section again. If you think you were any good at any of the weapons, use them again – that may be what keeps you alive in the arena."
"Use every minute!" Effie adds with an encouraging smile. "You'll be great."
"Thanks Effie," says Peeta politely.
After breakfast, Effie walks the teenagers down to the training centre; wishes them good luck and reminds them to be polite to the gamemakers when Katniss scowls at her rather than thanks her for the well wishes. She returns to the penthouse to find Haymitch sprawled out over the couch while Cinna and Portia perch on the chairs, looking slightly uncomfortable.
"Haymitch!" She exclaims. "Sit up at once, you're being rude!"
He pulls a face, silently repeating her words with his nose and mouth all scrunched up, but reluctantly pushes himself up and slouches against the back of the couch. Effie sits down next to him, smiling tersely at the stylists.
"Hello Cinna, Portia," she says. "Have you two brought your designs with you?"
"Right here," Cinna replies, lifting a thin black carry bag from the ground and unzipping it to remove a sketch book. "Portia and I have been working on these over the last few days. We always knew what we wanted to do for the parade, and the audience responded so well to the flames so we're keeping that theme."
"However this time we don't want them looking too similar," Portia continues, leaning over towards Cinna and flicking to one of the pages of the book. "We're thinking this design for Peeta. It will emphasise his looks –"
"That boy has a striking jaw," Cinna says.
Effie nods in agreement, inching towards the edge of the couch so she can see the design. "Ooh, lovely! It will be black, I presume?"
"Yes. Black with flame accents here – and here," Portia points to the sketch. "Possibly here, too, but we think it might be too much. We don't want the outfit to overpower him, he has a great personality."
Haymitch chuckles at that. "Indeed he does. Unlike Katniss – you better make sure her costume takes the crowd's breath away."
Effie purses her lips and hisses, "manners, Haymitch."
The stylists share an amused look before Portia turns the page. "Peeta's prep team will do his hair like this, with minimal makeup. I... Um. What angle will he be playing? You two work with them tomorrow don't you?"
"Yes," Effie nods, having forgotten that it's the first year for both stylists, having felt like she's known them for years. "I'll work with Katniss in the morning while Haymitch works with Peeta, and then we'll switch after lunch. I'll help them with their presentation while Haymitch helps with content... Peeta's so charming though. I expect we'll just have him be his usual self."
"Perfect," replies Cinna.
"Now what about the girl?" Haymitch asks.
"For Katniss I've come up with two designs... This first one would require her angle to be sexy, suave, a little edgy. She'd need to show that spirit from when she volunteered but also be charming –"
Haymitch snorts and Effie whacks him with her clipboard. She's been making notes from what the stylists have been saying so she keeps it in mind when she's working with the tributes tomorrow.
"What does it look like?"
Cinna turns a few pages over. "It's a skin tone body suit, with teasing flames."
Effie has no doubt that this costume would look amazing on Katniss but she doesn't think the teenager has the personality to pull it off. Haymitch voices this thought, secretly thinking that it would be perfect for Effie.
"That won't work. Katniss has about as much charm as a dead slug."
The other three can't help but be amused.
"I hate to be rude, but he's right," Effie says. "Katniss won't be able to make this work – not unless I have a breakthrough tomorrow morning... but – am I right in saying that these outfits will begin to be made today?"
"You are," Cinna nods.
"Well, I don't want this body suit made if it's not going to work... what's your other design?"
"I came up with this late last night so I don't have a final sketch, but it's a full length red dress covered completely in precious gems. I'll have streaks of blue ones here – and here, like this –" He points at his design as he describes it, "and it'll look like she's on fire when she moves."
"Ohh," Effie is stunned silent for a moment before a smile overtakes her face. "Yes, yes! Oh, it's wonderful! That has to be the one – it's beautiful, Cinna! And so is Peeta's suit, Portia! Oh – they're going to look so perfect. They're going to be such shining pearls!"
The stylists smile and Portia elbows Cinna subtly. "I told you the dress would be best."
"I like it," Haymitch mutters, feeling a headache coming on, and closes his eyes.
Effie beams at the stylists, beyond happy with their designs. She only hopes that Katniss manages to lose her hostility for her interview; with these designs and the teenagers' fiery spirits and strengths, she's starting to truly believe they have a chance this year. "Will Katniss be wearing heels?"
"I think so, yes," Cinna replies.
"I'll have her practice tomorrow."
Effie talks with the duo for a while longer, ignoring Haymitch's grumbles from where he is slumped beside her on the couch. She enjoys the stylists' company, thinks she'll definitely see more of them once the Games are over this year.
"Well, we best be going," Portia says as Cinna begins packing up their sketch book. "We'll see you for dinner."
"Indeed. Hopefully Katniss and Peeta will receive decent training scores!"
"I'll cross my fingers," Cinna says, standing up from his seat.
Effie stands too and walks them to the elevator, kissing their cheeks goodbye and apologising for Haymitch's rudeness. The stylists laugh it off; all too aware of the mentor's nature. The escort goes to the kitchen and pours herself a glass of water before returning to the lounge. Haymitch appears to be sleeping on the couch so she doesn't scold him; merely huffs and sits beside him again to go over her notes.
They're not really sure where the rest of the morning goes, but it's spent in a sort of tense silence that builds until it's unbearable and culminates with Effie jumping up from the couch, throwing her clipboard on the floor and announcing that she's going to the gym. Haymitch blinks, half-asleep with a glass of wine in his hand. He started having convulsions a few hours ago and settled for a nice glass of red to try and tame them without pissing Effie off further. Why he's always trying to please her he doesn't know; and he's aware that he's contradicting his previous intentions to piss her off.
"I'm going to the gym," she replies in a clipped tone.
"Oh," he replies like it's something she says every day but mostly he's thinking that this means he'll be alone.
"You can come if you want," offers Effie; ever the polite one. "It's better than sitting around drinking."
Haymitch scowls up at her. "I'll come. I don't have anything to wear though."
"I'll find you something."
"You're barely wearing any makeup," Haymitch comments dumbly as Effie leaves her room in a pair of form-fitting black leggings and a midriff-showing hot pink sports singlet, her dark blonde hair pulled back into a ponytail.
"Well, we are going to the gym," she replies with an amused smile.
"But... You don't care if anyone sees?" He wonders who stole his tongue as the words come slowly, disjointedly out of his mouth.
"No. The gym is one of the few places I can get away with a bare face."
Haymitch nods, standing beside her in an awkward silence, his hands tucked into the pockets of the sweatpants she got an avox to send up. The tension between them is reminisce of their first few years working together, except back then the hurt didn't cut quite so deep.
"Well, come on!" Effie exclaims as she practically bounces towards the elevators, eager to have something to do besides be angry at Haymitch.
They're silent from the penthouse to gym, thankful that their driver doesn't ask them any questions about their tributes which would require them to interact. Haymitch thinks he'll bite her head off if she says one pro-games thing, even if it is a lie. He follows her into the exclusive establishment, evident by the need to be buzzed into the building and be greeted by a perfectly coiffed woman with diamonds implanted at the corners of her eyes. Once inside. Effie immediately makes for the treadmills and Haymitch can't help but ask his second incredulous question in ten minutes.
Effie laughs, stepping up onto the treadmill. "How else do you think I have these great legs?"
They share a smirk, before remembering that they're meant to be mad at each other and Haymitch stalks over to the weights while she tells the machine to speed up.
She watches him lifting weights as she runs, watches his biceps ripple with every movement. He's not what you'd call fit, but he's certainly strong - as Effie well knows. She's brought out of her imaginings of Haymitch taking her on the bench press by Finnick's jovial call.
"Oh, hey Finnick!" She smiles, slowing down the treadmill so she can talk without losing her breath. "How are you?"
"Good, good," he grins. "Bit mad that your tributes stole the parade; I was certain mine would win in their fish costumes," he says with a grin.
"Oh please. Everyone knows two-tone aqua went out of season three years ago," she laughs, pressing a button so the treadmill dispenses a bottle of water.
"Our stylists were trying to make a comeback," he replies indignantly, the laughter still evident in his eyes.
"Well, it failed." Effie says bluntly, before giggling and thinking she really has picked up some of Haymitch's characteristics.
Finnick gives a faux sigh and finally steps up onto the treadmill next to her, starting at a slow jog to get his muscles warmed up.
"Haymitch! I didn't see you there!" He calls to the older victor, who has just sat up for a breather.
"Finnick," Haymitch replies with a nod, trying not to snarl.
He listens to her chatting with the District Four victor as he returns to his weights and it occurs to him that he doesn't truly know what Effie's life is like beyond the games. He knows bits and pieces, funny stories and important events, but despite knowing her better than anyone else, his knowledge of the other fifty-odd weeks of her year is limited. He grinds his teeth as he hears the pair laughing over something, and wonders whether they see each other throughout the year since Finnick is often called to the Capitol. Haymitch only sees Effie for the games, and in recent years for the Victor's tour when he comes to the Capitol for the president's banquet, claiming it's the better alcohol rather than her company that he likes.
He starts brainstorming ideas for why he himself would need to come to the Capitol throughout the year, but anything he comes up with sounds like a flaky excuse; one that wouldn't work twice. He wonders whether he could just move to the damned city, pretend to be sick of the shitty liquor in his district, then curses his years of anti-Capitol raving for the president would surely suspect him of something.
Thirteen, you need to hurry up with your fucking rebellion.
After an hour or so, Haymitch becomes sick of listening to Effie and Finnick's conversation and stalks out of the gym, leaving the weights lying around for someone else to pick up. He knows he's brought this upon himself by not directly confronting her but he doesn't know how he'll explain how he found out Finnick knows about them without telling her how and when he saw the other victor. Haymitch supposes he could say he saw him in passing, but Effie is very perceptive and will know he's lying.
Upon leaving the gym he is confronted by reporters and scowls at them all; says a silent thank you when an empty taxi drives past and he flags it down. He makes idle chit-chat with the driver, all the while wondering whether he should simply tell Effie the truth about Thirteen, but he doesn't think he could deal with putting her in danger. He heads straight for the shower when he eventually reaches the penthouse, stripping his clothes off in the hallway as no one else is around.
He's lathering shampoo into his hair when Effie walks through the open door to the bathroom, her arms full of the clothes he'd abandoned in the hallway. She shakes her head, depositing them on the shelf in the bathroom before peeling off her sweaty clothes.
"I think we broke my shower this morning, she comments with an amused smile, shutting the door behind her.
"Well, by all means, join me," he grins, forgetting his anger towards her when she's standing naked in front of him. He curses his cock for taking control from his brain but doesn't mind when she cups his jaw and stands on tip toes to kiss him softly.
"That was the best run I've had in ages," she says with a smile. He's about to snarl about Finnick when she continues, "you were a nice view to look at."
He smirks, dropping his soapy hands to slide down her sides and grasp her behind while her fingers slide into his hair, taking over from his and massaging the shampoo into his dirty hair. He squeezes her ass rather forcefully, his dick growing hard as she lets out a low moan.
"No-o," she gasps. "We can't. Cinna and Portia will be here within the hour –" She has to pause because a hand has slid between her buttocks and is stroking her folds. "Stop! We don't have time..."
"There's always time," he replies with a smirk, dropping his head to simultaneously rinse the shampoo from his hair and run his tongue along her collarbone.
"No! I mean it Haymitch. We don't."
The blonde slaps his hands away and he resigns himself to a few sneaky gropes when she's reaching for bottles of various gels and liquids that are apparently necessary to become clean in her world. He can't get his erection to subside however, and when she steps out of the shower to go get ready he finishes himself off, cumming with the memories of their morning shower sex. He allows himself to stay under the hot spray for a while before he too gets out.
Despite her leaving the shower a full fifteen minutes before him, he still makes it to the sitting room before her. He's in the middle of cursing the lack of ice and pouring himself a glass of water rather than alcohol when the elevator doors open and the stylists step out.
"Hello Haymitch," they greet him as they walk through the foyer.
"Hello," he replies, dropping to the couch and watching as they make themselves at home, pouring themselves drinks and asking him where Effie is.
"She's getting dressed," he mutters. "Gotta get herself all dolled up again." The stylists smirk and and he realises his hair is still wet; they must be assuming things. "Euh, no, nothing like that! We went to the gym."
"Effie went to the gym?" Portia asks, trying not to choke on her drink.
"Yeah. She runs, apparently," Haymitch mutters. "She's full of surprises."
"I would never have expected that," Cinna says. "Although she does have a great figure."
Haymitch's jaw would clench if he wasn't convinced that the man was gay. Effie thinks otherwise, and she does have better knowledge of Capitol men, but he still thinks the gold eyeliner makes the stylist gay. He simply grunts in response to the comment, not wanting to agree aloud. They sit in stony silence until the sound of the escort's heels on the hard floor echo down the hallway.
"Cinna, Portia!" She exclaims upon seeing them, turning to look at Haymitch with pursed lips. "Why didn't you tell me they were here? I'm terribly sorry for my tardiness."
"It's fine." Cinna says as he kisses her on the cheek. "We were just being informed that you two went to the gym."
"Yes we did. I had the most refreshing run." She smiles, pouring herself a glass of alcohol-free blue punch upon seeing Haymitch with a glass of water. "I was just having one of those days, you know?"
Portia nods, sliding to the side so Effie can squeeze in between her and Haymitch. "I would never have taken you for the running type."
"I'm full of surprises," Effie laughs and takes a sip of her drink. "How are the interview outfits coming along?"
Her leg is touching Haymitch's and he finds himself zoning out of the conversation, concentrating on their small point of connection. He's at ends with his feelings towards her – simultaneously wanting to envelop her in his arms and take her on the couch and tell her all about the rebellion, and wanting to scream at her for breaking his trust. He hates that she's got such a hold over him, hates that it only takes a smile from her or a seductive comment to melt him. At some stage Peeta returns from training but Haymitch is too consumed by thoughts of Effie to really notice the boy's arrival. He only comes back to reality when he hears the others calling Katniss' name and sees the girl race towards her room with tears rolling down her cheeks. He groans; from the look of things her session didn't go very well, and his hope for her is deteriorating.
"Damn," he mutters, leaning back into the couch and sipping on his drink before remembering it's only water.
"Come on!" Effie snaps, jumping up from the couch and tugging on his arm. "We need to see if she's okay."
"Alright, alright," replies Haymitch upon seeing her no-nonsense face.
They go Katniss' room, knocking on the door and trying to get her to come out; Effie talking in soothing tones to the younger girl, but they only get shouted at to go away. Effie refuses to give up but Haymitch has to tug her away from Katniss' door after a few more minutes.
"I'm worried," she whispers into his ear, pressing against his chest as she does so.
"We don't know what happened. She mightn't have fucked up too badly," he replies quietly, listening to the sound of Katniss' sobs and inhaling the scent of Effie's perfume.
"I hope not... And I've never seen Katniss like this before." Effie sighs.
They stand pressed against each other in the middle of the hallway for a few more moments before parting and returning to the sitting room, shaking their heads when the others look at them with questioning eyes. They turn their attention to Peeta over the next hour, giving him further advice and quizzing him on the things he learned in training. When the avox and other Capitol attendants have dinner set up for them, Effie goes to retrieve Katniss from her room. Everyone wants to ask Katniss about her private session but no one seems willing to go first, instead they talk about the weather until Haymitch can't stand it.
"Okay, enough small talk, just how bad were you today?" He snarls.
Peeta, of course, tries to cheer Katniss up, and they eventually find out that she shot an arrow at the Gamemakers. Effie manages to school her expression into shock - secretly wishing she too could shoot an arrow at those horrid people. Haymitch somehow manages to calm Katniss down, guffawing when she describes the Gamemakers' reactions.
He has to subtly nudge Effie under the table when says "Well, it serves them right. It's their job to pay attention to you. And just because you come from District Twelve is no excuse to ignore you."
Effie glances at him, eyes telling him that she didn't mean to let that slip, looks nervously around the room for they are sure to be recorded in here. "I'm sorry, but that's what I think."
They finish dinner and return to the sitting room to watch the announcement of the tributes' training scores. Haymitch once again ends up slouched next to Effie, wondering whether he should be concerned that he continues to gravitate towards her even when he's mad at her. Peeta receives his eight and Katniss her eleven and pretty soon their tributes are in bed and the stylists gone. Effie and Haymitch end up in her room, an oppressive silence drifting over them once again as she removes her heels and starts undoing her dress. He sighs and starts taking off his clothes, unable to bring himself to leave the room. He's just shrugged out of his jacket when he hears her whisper his name and he looks up from the ground to see her standing helplessly in front of him. He frowns, watching as she runs her hands up her arms and her gaze wavers.
"I... I once read somewhere that you shouldn't go to bed angry... and... can we just pretend that we're not annoyed with each other tonight? Please?"
He'd like to tell her no and fuck off but her lower lip is quivering and the forlorn expression on her face makes him hold his tongue.
"I know it sounds silly," she continues when he remains silent, fiddling with the bed sheets, "but I only see you for a few weeks a year... and... it's really hard... to not see you... And I don't want to be spending this time angry."
Her voice cracks and he doesn't hesitate to gather her in his arms as she starts to cry.
"I know... I hate fighting with you... Well, I enjoy it when we fight over dumb things but I don't like this..." He says softly, truthfully.
She continues to sob into his shirt and he leads them back to the bed, leaning backwards so he ends up lying down with her on top of him.
"I love you," he tries when she doesn't stop.
She lifts her head to look down at him with mascara stained her cheeks. "Promise me you'll let me put a phone in your house?"
"I... Okay," he relents.
Haymitch reaches up to remove the hairpins that hold her wig to her head before lifting the coloured thing off. She winces when he catches some of her hair on pins he missed and he smiles sheepishly.
"It's okay," she whispers, smiling as he runs his hands through her natural waves. "So... You agree with not going to bed angry?"
"Sweetheart, I'll do whatever you want," he replies, wiping her tears away and knowing he really is head over heels now.
Effie responds with a smile that lights up her entire face, pink-lipstick lips stretching wide and showing her bleached teeth. He looks back at her curiously, his eyes darting over her face, and her smile begins to fade.
"What? What is it? Is there something on my face?"
"No," he chuckles at her horrified expression. "I was just thinking that even though you're wearing all that Capitol crap, you're still you and you're still cute when you smile."
"Who are you and what have you done with Haymitch Abernathy?"
"Hey, you wanted us to go to bed happy..."
"You're right, I did. I'll just go and remove my makeup..."
She kisses him softly and rolls off of him, padding into the bathroom as he lets his eyes fall closed. A few minutes later she returns and finds him already asleep, still in his shirt and pants. She smiles softly, leaning over him to loosen his tie and undo the top buttons of his shirt. She's sliding his tie from around his neck when his hand grasps her wrist and startles her.
Haymitch chuckles, opening his eyes and pulling her down for a kiss. His hand moves from her wrist to caress her breasts through her flimsy nightgown. She gasps as his palm brushes over her left nipple, fingertips grazing her side. He kisses her languidly, tongue rolling over hers in a slow but fiery dance. She sighs, lifting her leg to straddle his waist, silk gown bunching up around the tops of her thighs.
Effie finally removes his tie and gasps again as his other hand slides down her back and caresses her ass through the smooth silk. She grinds back against his hand, his fingers gliding over her already wet folds.
He groans into her mouth, nibbling at her bottom lip when he feels how aroused she is, feels his cock twitch against his pants. With one hand he teases her nipple to a hard nub and with the other he strokes her pussy until she's rolling her hips over his in a desperate attempt to have his fingers slip inside her.
She's growing desperate as his fingers slide along her slick exterior, his arm nestled between her buttocks, but never entering her. She lets out a whine, wanting nothing more than to have him pumping his fingers inside her quim. Letting out a gasp as he teasingly dips two fingers inside her she bucks her hips down, pushing against his cock. His pants are surely getting ruined from her arousal but neither of them care.
"Do that again," demands Haymitch with raggedy breath, swirling his fingers over her clit and moving his hand from her breast to her ass.
"Only if you do."
He chuckles, sliding his fingers inside her again, and groaning when she grinds against his dick. Effie continues to squirm as his fingers stroke her soft walls, three of them pumping inside her until she can't take it any longer. She gasps his name, shuddering against his body and grasping the sheets tightly between her fingers. Haymitch watches the expression of pure bliss crossing her face and smiles, knowing he caused that.
When she recovers, she sits up and finally removes her silk gown, grinning as he licks his fingers clean. She starts on undoing his pants, the crotch completely soaked from her arousal, but struggles with removing them while she's straddling him. The pressure in Haymitch's dick is begging for release and when he finds she's taking too long to remove his pants he grasps her sides and flips them over.
"Oh!" She giggles, looking up at him and helping push his pants down. They end up somewhere around his knees before he gets impatient and enters her. He thrusts inside her, relishing the feel of her hot walls around his cock, her body pressed firmly against his. She presses kisses to his skin, runs her palms along his back, drags her fingertips through his hair. He smiles when she touches him so lovingly, almost forgets that he's been mad at her.
They climax simultaneously; kissing slowly and muffling each other's moans, not needing words to express their love.