Together. / Haymitch Abernathy
Summary: In his mid twenties and already the job of a mentor being difficult for the golden boy. didn't realize when he met someone alike to him, yet very different in paths of life could make him want to feel what freedom truly felt life, allowing both him and her, to find true love again. (victor reader x mentor!haymitch) (also haymitch is around 25 ish from later after his games from being a mentor)
PS: English isn’t my first language, and I’m sorry for being absent, but I used to write a lot of Hunger Games content—especially stories inspired by The Ballad of Songbirds and Snakes. Haymitch has always been my favorite character, and I rarely see fanfiction about him, whether it’s during his Games era or the time of Katniss. So… be prepared to be well fed, fellow Haymitch lovers.
Everything about the Capitol was fake. From the glitter on your face, to the way the elite's breath stank your nostril the second they spoke. While being a Victor had its perks, if someone had given you the choice between, staying in the Victor’s Village in your district instead of spending endless time in those flourishing parties. Where caviar and exaggerated luxurious buffets were displayed. Rarely eaten. You would choose, staying indoors any day by now. But because you were the ‘perfect’ victor. President Snow made sure you were required whenever the occasion upheld.
That Haymitch, your mentor, somehow managed to notice that fairly quickly.
Because not only you were District 12’s female tribute at the time. But also became the golden ticket for any kind of obsession the elite groups held for specific tributes. Unlike your opponent's tribute, many within the Games staff and Capitol’s elite became obsessed with unfair numbers because of his good looks. You knew him by name, Caleb. A Seamed boy in District 12 around your age at the time of the reaping. Heard brief stories of him even being a heart breaker, nothing to learn yet nothing to be more curious about him either.
It wasn’t just good looks that held an advantage. In fact, the story of him being an only child and keeping his sibling alive, awfully reminded it of Haymitch. With no family to uphold at this time it wasn’t the fact that he didn’t want to help Caleb. On the contrary he wanted, but his stubbornness made him realize that he wouldn’t win the game so easily. Especially only if he relied on his charms. That is how he learned about you.
Your reaping ceremony wasn’t exactly what your day uphold. You were certain that by the time of an age reached your name would pass this time. Again and again, that’s what your mother reassured you. But it was the way Effie’s fingers went into the rounded glass for its female tribute, that your name rolled her tongue so beautifully.
Since then, he could still hear your mother’s weeping as you walked down the alley clearly loss. Your instincts facade were long gone by this time when you wiped that smirk off your face, Peacekeepers holding you tight around your arms, as your classmates watched you in worry. Everyone loved you in the District, you weren’t a troublemaker nor someone who occasionally loved to steal a poor man’s bread. That Haymitch noticed later on, when a young girl your age ran over to you.
“Here,” she said with a trembling voice. “Your mother’s token. She couldn’t find herself to bring it to you so I offered.” She tried to smile, but the tears streaming down her face said otherwise. “Make us proud, mhm?”
Nodding you couldn’t get the chance to even hug her, Haymitch watching you in a distant way as the male’s tribute already standing by Effie’s left side stood motionless. Your eyes briefly met Haymitch’s at the time, but was swift to realize that by your tribute’s size next to you, you were certain of losing.
But you were dead, wrong.
Some would say it was a way of favoritism, yet deep inside Haymitch couldn’t explain what he was feeling himself. In his mid twenties already, bathed in alcohol and miserable trauma that was already hard enough to let go of. Made sure at least you were getting skilled enough to cover yourself and hide away from the tributes and most importantly the Careers. A party Haymitch knew very well at the time. Even as a winner himself, and by the time a few of District 12’s innocents were killed to come by you. Haymitch sometimes wondered if he was good enough to train both of you.
Which is how President Snow became somehow fascinated by you alone. And the way Haymitch brought himself towards you.
A mentor would usually keep their two tributes after each training, presenting yourself in front of the high seats of the President himself and the way he called out your name made a few tributes including yourself grow cold. A common symptom many had dealt with in the past as well.
You couldn’t tell when he was impressed or not, when one day, without even an ounce of remorse, before saying, “Is Haymitch training you well?” You almost could feel your eyes winded, slightly nodding. All that became enough of a response, for Snow to make both you and Haymitch the story of your year’s games. “Yes, sir.”
That enough somehow led you to believe he was satisfied.
Since then you both became a talk in the entire Capitol. The way District 1 and 2 tributes would occasionally tower you when Haymitch wasn’t near. Probably drinking, remarks such as “Well look who’s here. Isn’t that Abernathy’s golden token?” Became a little too of casualty around here.
“I bet she makes fine meat to cut with.” One of the leaders said, trying your best to avoid eye contact. When you did he wasn’t so pleased by cupping your jaw. Tight enough for you to obey. “Listen to me, you’re lucky Caleb joined us. Poor thing said his own mentor abandoned him by the minute. Some little bird tells me you two are having an–”
“I’d suggest you keep your dirty hands off her.”
A familiar, yet completely tired voice spoke. The way you immediately knew who it came from when he stood behind the District 1 leader’s back. Scoffing as he did so, the District 1 male tribute turned to face Haymitch. Arms both crossed against his chest, somehow still managing to get Caleb and another tribute hovering you, like their last supper.
About the same age they were he walked towards him. Slightly taller than Haymitch, you had never seen him this serious by this time. Sure he was, but only during training or for the points score. But never this serious, when it came about you.
His lips curved into a soft smirk, “You better wipe that smirk off your face, punk.”
“Or what?” Abernathy held his half emptied bottle in hand, as if you felt enough strength in him to know that if the District 1 male tribute didn’t stop. A good chance of the glass being in his skin felt more common than it should be, perhaps with a sad Haymitch knowing he won’t be able to drink the last bit of whiskey lingering for him to just drink.
“I’ll make sure your breath will smell like this for years on end,” he said, mentioning the bottle. Haymitch barely listening exhaled a dry chuckle. Glancing down as he nods, “Funny you are saying this to me. When you can’t even keep up a good score. You’re even lying to your own mentor about the female… ugh what’s her name?”
He grunt, fists forming as you could see the guy’s veins forming in his arms, “Adeline.”
Haymitch, nods. “Right, her. I wonder what would happen if maybe…”
The District 1’s male tribute quickly grabbed onto his collar. Leaving nothing as he made Haymitch’s back slammed on the nearby wall. You wanted to intervene by then but your arms were held by the remaining Careers. Both having the most disgusting smirk on their face, Haymitch wished he’d give a few punches.
Yet he chuckled,”Woah there, we don’t want no fight before the games even started ugh?”
The male tribute didn’t say anything, when just a few minutes of silence heard footsteps approaching, the District 1’s mentor not looking so pleased. But not giving an empathetic look towards Haymitch either, “Training room now.” The mentor said firmly, but before the tribute let go of Haymitch’s collar he said just a murmur to hear it enough for the both of you. “Just a reminder that she will die the first day, lover boy. And the name is Julian. Don’t forget.”
The Games started just a few weeks after the incident. Haymitch stayed close but not enough to cause a few rumors to eventually spread. Especially after that one specific night.
You had nightmares. Nightmares about not seeing your family’s face again. Or worse, them not remembering the person you were after meeting them. Them being ashamed of regret, not even celebrating your victory, instead spitting vile words, your body began to shake slightly. Haymitch knew of your nightmares, he knew staying in the panthouse wasn’t easy to began with. Let alone away from the people you loved, he knew the story far too well. But seeing you like this, made his stomach churn.
“Shh…” he’d say one night in the bed you now both began to share. He insisted, knowing you’d get a better sleep than staying alone. Caressing your hair as your breath became heavier, you were glued to him, chest buried on his chest. “Cry all you want, I won’t leave your side.”
You had both tried to look uninterested however when it came to public image. That alone was already hard when seeing you becoming the golden token of Panem. An inspiration for the women in town when they would see your training. President Snow started to know much more than he was entitled, the way he looked over the first winner of District 12 almost made his blood grow cold. Something about the way he looked at you, seemed like he knew. Yet didn’t plan on executing anything much further. When just a few days passed, as you were allowed an off day of recovery before the official games, you spend the entire day sleeping. Haymitch however, was escorted to Snow’s office for sponsor's reasons.
“You know,” he said nonchalantly, his fingers swirling the little cup of whiskey glass he had in hand. The ice had almost melted by then. “The Capitols really enjoy you and Y/N.” he then locked eyes completely. Haymitch swallowing in silence, jaw clenching just by how President Snow. Refusing the glass of whiskey offered by his servants. “And she’s a District 12 tribute… It would be a shame that she dies this quickly wouldn’t it? How would our Capitol then enjoy seeing their favorite couple barely get any screen time.”
Snow knew what he was doing at that moment. This meant that more than anything for Haymitch and you alone. Lying being one of them, lying for the public and without you being aware. He knew the games a little too much, he did do them after all. “What’s the catch?” he shook his head when offered a fresh glass of whiskey, his biggest weakness.
“Catch?” Snow said, chuckling. “There’s no catch here, but.” he pauses, putting the glass that he was so interested in from the start near a table next to a rose bouquet. “You see.. Y/N is beautiful, yes? The way she couldn’t survive a day without our sponsors would be undying by making our views go low. I say that because I want her to win. I wanna make sure she does get out before anyone, and then… We can arrange something between the two of you. Remember, it isn’t about love. But survival instincts.”
That Haymitch knew it was like bread and butter. He wanted to laugh out of agony, but nothing came out of the sort. A scoff instead made its way out, before noticing the President’s brow arching when he heard it loud and clear, “Something is bothering you Abernathy? We can always–”
“No.” He closes his eyes still, sighing. Knowing that by then even if he had lied for your existence or not. He had no other choices, that was the mentor’s job after all. With Caleb barely making it out alive with the Careers, god knows about you as well. And with that kind of promise, he didn’t want to suffer any longer.
“Do it. But please, make sure she isn’t aware of it yet. She’ll need to go back to District 12 eventually.”
Snow chuckled, “Oh no no no. That's where I have a catch. See? If she truly wants to win, she’ll have to make her sponsors satisfied. Which means..”
Snow appreciated Haymitch’s quick learning. “Exactly. Or she loses everything.”
“We don’t want another tragedy do we?”
He said clearly referring to his own. Haymitch almost had the chance to lash out to him when he realized the Peacekeepers were everywhere.
He sighs, with nothing else to say but a nod. “Good,” President Snow said with a final smile. “We will take good care of her. Trust me.”
The official days of the Games were as stressful as anyone would. Chosen or not. You in particular as you were meticulously given a uniform for this year. Everyone did. Caleb by your side kept on rambling on how he’ll need to get his axe. Effie fixing his collar clearly ignoring him, as the pressure of perfection loomed towards her.
While you looked for a last time in the mirror. Effie, making sure everything was in place, gently cupped your face in awe. “May the odds be in your favor, darling.” She whispers, giving you a soft peck on the lips. Haymitch didn’t even bother showing up. You weren’t surprised either, considering that last night you also slept alone. You didn’t want to urge him to stop drinking, because you onced remember what Effie told you once, “Whenever the games begin, he always drinks.”
Back in the penthouse that same morning earlier, drunk as he got the night before, hated himself having you to see him as such. Shame and regret started to show the next morning when Effie had scolded him earlier before the official game day, “She’s going to hate you, you know?”
He grunts, hair barely even washed, he looks at her with furrowed brows and a breath stink of vodka. “And? It’s not like she’s going to return to us anytime soon.”
But he was wrong, oh so wrong when you were named as Victor of your own games. The blood bath that lingered around you. Never in a thousand years you realized that.. Everything was in fact real. A thing Haymitch should’ve warned you days ago. And yet, when you arrived weak in the hands of the Peacekeepers in the hospital wing. Haymitch practically jolted by your side, cupping your face as you both began to laugh.
“You won,” he said softly. You wanted to smile and laugh. See your family again. Nodding you said, “I did…”
The bittersweet moment was swiftly interrupted as the Peacekeepers took you into another room. Your eyes winded as a protest of being let go, you wanted to be held by your mentor. Haymitch did the same, yet he knew deep down why this was happening. You weren’t just a victor from now on, but the Capitol’s golden ticket for pleasure. And Haymitch hated himself more every second of it he had to endure.
You screamed his name, he did the same as well. But by the time you were swiftly escorted. He knew.. He knew it was not only for the best of him, but you as well. A promise kept by President Snow.
By a few months, you weren’t recognizable. Haymitch had lied into protecting you and your family. A consequence that would bring you to be in the hands of a man and your family allowing complete freedom. It was in fact what you wanted, keeping your family away from the possible danger, they were proud of you to say the least. Your mother knew the consequence in the end, nothing was going to be the same when your child was known for such beauty. Because Snow loved beauty.
You began assisting men around Panem from different estates, some were Deans of official schools within the Capitol while others high in class men willing to pay an extra just to spend time with you. Little did you know, Haymitch was at those parties. Just a few feet away and he hated himself for even allowing this to happen. But he knew that if he had said no… it wasn’t the men you’d end up satisfying being disappointed but your entire family killed.
Haymitch learned it the hard way.
“Do you think she remembers?” Effie gently murmured by his side with her glass of wine almost untouched once. The night where President Snow had invited all Victors by far to a celebration of their annual games they would host each year. This time being a little more special, meant more guests to entertain. He briefly looked at you from a table afar or two, sitting next to a man so repugnant he wanted to vomit. Did not know the name either, just felt disgusted.
Because that man should've been him.
He glances to Effie’s side, obviously worried for your sake. He shrugged, “Knowing Snow he probably erased her entire memory at this point. Including knowing who we are.” Yet he doubted it, considering it had only been a few months since your victory. Normally when this procedure was obligatory, it’s either because of the victor’s background or an immense love affair piled with one another. You, on the other hand, were just their puppet.
Yet, Haymitch remembered Snow’s words back then when referring to you being the ‘perfect duo.’ Perfect couple too. Your sponsors loved seeing you with Haymitch. The age gap alone made everyone in the Capitol talk about it. Until now.. You both were merely strangers. And that made President Snow’s plan working perfectly.
Later during the party Haymitch couldn’t help himself to watch you briefly. Thinking he could get himself to talk to you since everything. Effie even insisted that he did, or else she won’t bring him new whiskey. Much to his chagrin he rolled his eyes and as soon as another elite approached you, he had enough. No more filthy rich men by your side and walked slowly. Your back facing him at the buffet picking on the last caviar pancake.
“You look.. Beautiful tonight.”
His voice was soft, delicate. As your head glanced up slightly, getting startled by a voice you knew. Deep in your memory.
“Thank you.. Just a moment before I–”
When turned your gaze met his. Haymitch’s.
You both stood in silence in front of each other. The way he had aged a few years from now, or could it be the alcohol speaking. Your once mentor who did not show when you were met with life and death. Only appeared when your heart remained breathing. “Hey…”
So you did remember him. He wondered, chuckling softly. Glancing down quickly out of habit. “You do remember?”
Nodding quickly you almost approached him, feeling your breath blending with his. “I do… everything feels a little blurry once in a while. But… your face always comes back in my dreams.”
He listened to you, every word as you spoke. How he’d wished right now to hold you. Without Snow’s preying eyes or anyone’s. He felt sick for not even being present when you had jumped into the arena. Let alone keeping you safe after, “Did they..? You know after you got picked when we met in the hospital wing.”
You remembered it briefly, “Yes, since then I blacked out.”
He nods, with a knowing smile he gently brushes his fingers around your waist. Leaning close to your ear. “Come, for me?” His plea was nothing like you’d seen before. Mirroring his smile you nodded accepting his offer, little did you know. Haymitch’s gaze then swiftly met with President Snow’s. Until bringing you somewhere more secretive.
It was a lovely fountain. The night in Panem was in fact beautiful. Which you and many had forgotten to realize the beauty of nature when surviving became your primary instinct. As you both sat down the nearby garden benches surrounded with white roses, Haymitch could not help himself to brush a few strands of your hair behind your ear. Admiring your beauty,
“How's your family back home?” You first broke the silence between the two. “I know I haven’t been around much but you know, what it’s like… Freedom isn’t much of a choice for me anymore.”
He hated himself hearing you speak. Sighing he spoke, “Good. I try to visit them when I can go back home. They love their new house, that I am certain.” You chuckled and he did too. “Good.. but..”
He looked at you seriously this time. Tilting his head as you glanced down your lap. “I don’t know if I can hold it any longer.”
He watched you for a moment. You had every right to be this upset, this confused about what decisions were right for you. But what he was afraid of was how unaware of it you were. You didn’t know that if you wanted to change your lifestyle, while possible it would’ve cost something much more than just a yes. And it pained him so much.
“You want to stop it?” He asked, clearly trying to sound unaware himself. Nodding you said, “Yes. Stop it all. I wanna go back to be with them. But.. I am afraid Snow won’t like it..”
He will. “He won’t.” Haymitch said firmly believing a lie instead, cupping your hands with his. Your eyes begin to water as you try to hold your tears in order to look stronger than you looked. “I wanna be with you, Haymitch. I can’t do this anymore… After that night you held me. It was always you.”
I want it to. He thought to himself, simply because he was afraid of losing you too. But that also meant you getting something in return you won’t get passed by. Your family’s existence, all gone. Forever. Just like his.
“I’ll try to see something,” he promised you. Caressing now your right cheek as he began to wipe a few tears streaming down your face from holding onto it too much longer. He knew what he meant by promise, and that facing President Snow alone won’t be that easy. Especially after work that will require your reaction.
The next few weeks after the party, Haymitch, while you slept back in Victor's village with your family, was invited to an elite dinner party with a few mentors and following President Snow himself. This was the perfect opportunity for him to have the discussion you had with him back a few nights.
As the dining table in Snow's mansion began to fill up, Haymitch tried to get Snow’s attention the best he could when he was busy talking to other important political men. Which quickly, and accidently pretended to stumble on one of them as he walked by. Snow’s lip forming thin as he watches the ever so mentor, excusing himself. Saying it was a drunk habit of his, when they joked with him, Snow quickly then presented him to them.
But he knew he wasn’t there for short talks and presentations, which Snow leaned to whisper in Haymitch’s ear. “You seem tense, Abernathy. May I wonder why?”
The blonde boy leaned back, whispering “I need to talk to you, about Y/N. Privately. It’s urgent.”
Snow’s jaw immediately tense, he could not pass by his favorite victors after all. No, and especially not you. When he glanced back at the group, excusing himself much further without anything else, they somehow understood, allowing both Haymitch and him to go to his office for a little while before the dinner.
As they arrived, the President closed the door, “So, what is about Y/N that is so important. I swear I made everything in her favor the best–”
His words were cut dry and raw. Almost a displease in Snow’s eyes that Haymitch knew the second he said it. But at least he meant it truth, a message of despair from you as well.
“Mhm…I see. You know the consequence of that ugh?”
To much of his fright, Haymitch knew exactly what he meant by that. And hated every minute of it, “She’ll have to watch her punishment eventually when the times come.” He said, without much lack of empathy for anyone. Including himself.
Haymitch nods ever so slightly, “I do. And I’ll make sure I stand by her side.”
Snow chuckled softly, then gently placed a gentle squeeze on Haymitch’s shoulder. “I knew you would understand. You aren’t my perfect couple for nothing ugh? Too disparate for freedom and yet, a faith so similar awaits for her.”
At this point in time Haymitch wanted to punch him. Scream the top of his lungs, reach out to you first before the scar would be opened again but he could not. His body remained stiff, yet he nodded and said nothing, somehow this alone pleased Snow much to his chagrin. “Good, now let’s go eat.”
The next few days were a blur. Somehow you weren’t invited to the elite’s parties anymore. Nor being prompt as the Capitol’s puppet. For once you sensed a peace of freedom. Something you didn’t experience when Haymitch’s letter came by your door. While you both lived in Victor's Village he couldn’t help himself on finding ways to distract himself from the following events that would happen.
‘Meet me at the Meadow, where the Geese awaits,’
Was written in his poorly cursive handwriting, as you kissed your mother goodbye and father. Both looking at you with loving eyes of pride, ‘Say Hi to Haymitch for us ugh?’
They were both grateful for him, while you had remembered your father saying filthy things about him during your training days in the Games. He had now every right to excuse himself and doubt anyone with a different demeanour. Because since then, your father’s respect towards Haymitch never lost sparks. And that Haymitch knew.
As you walked by the forest deep inside the Meadow you noticed him sitting by the log. Geese were around him as he fed him with some leftover stove bread.
He looked up at you soon as you sat down. Your eyes now glued to the beautiful scenery that welcomed you. “Thank you,” you said to him. Oh how he wanted to hold you in this moment and time.. “You’re welcome.”
“How?” You quickly then asked him, “There’s no way suddenly the Capitol doesn’t invite me anymore. You must’ve done something, Abernathy.”
He chuckled, knowing you were quick at spotting evidence. And when you said nothing but his last name, it meant trouble.
“You’re right. Well, me and Snow had a few discussions and agreement so..”
“Agreement such as?” You squint a teasing brow at him before stealing a piece of bread and feeding it to one clingy Goose by your side.
“Well you see when I had to leave last week for a dinner–”
Then sudden footsteps were heard approaching. Your friend who gave you the token, Charlize approaches. It felt as if she was running towards you both as well. Haymitch knew exactly what it meant, “Y/N!” She said, now closer to you both stumbling onto the ground as you got up to hug her.
“What’s going on? Dear, you are so out of breath.”
“FIRE.” She spoke in a dangerous yet frightened voice, which made you laugh a little considering she was known for barely speaking even for her age being the same as yours, “I know, Fire is–”
Haymitch got up instantly. No. They couldn’t– Not this fast either. You had just come back, barely got the chance– He thought to himself the moment he realized what she was saying when just a few blocks from the forest to the Victor’s Village smoke began to appear in your own home.
“Mom?! Dad?!” You yelled in despair even though they couldn’t hear you from where you ran. Ran as fast as you could when a Peacekeeper was trying to ‘obviously’ turn the fire off. When Haymitch knew exactly it was perhaps the same who started it first.
“MOM!!!!” You heard her scream inside. Searching for you as the fire felt her skin almost immediately. “DAD!!!” No response to his voice then, making you realize that it was too late.
“Noo! I need tooo–” You almost choked from your own tears when Haymitch began to hold you still. Kneeling in the ground you screamed the best you could to make them get out. Make them walk toward the light, but nothing. Nothing but the sound of the crackling fire and your tears embracing you in a loop of despair. And for Snow, that was the consequences of demanding freedom. Haymitch’s too.
“Ma’am… It’s dangerous to be here—” Haymitch shot a glance over the Peacekeeper only doing his job. “Hey leave her alone will ya? I got her.” He tried to sooth you the best he could when he brought you back inside somewhere safer from the fire. By his house being close by and perhaps damaged by some debris, the Peacekeepers offered you another place not too far. Still within Victor's village Effie took you into her arms in a motherly way. She cried with you until you stopped and grew tired.
Later this evening the house grew tired, your own house now in shambles while you remained in Effie’s arms. “Here love, it’s okay. Maybe you should get some sleep ugh? Here I’ll come escort you.”
You could barely even respond let alone nod at this time. Effie felt a pinch of guilt, she too had seen a lot of terror. When she walked by through the living room, saw Haymitch laying on the couch, the fire from the chimney on. Your first instinct began to resurface. You wanted to turn it off, throwing things at it. “Haymitch..” Effie’s voice was soft yet understanding when he noticed you being finally awakened. His eyes more tired than usual, he cursed to himself from even turning the chimney on. “Fuck, Sorry.”
“It’s okay, I’ll get her to bed okay? There’s a guest bedroom maybe she–”
“No, mine.”
Haymitch said without even looking at you when he let the last sparkles of fire dimmed down. Kneeling back up he looked back at you for one minute. Your eyes never were this emptied before, and he blamed himself entirely. Somehow you knew it was him who had the talk with Snow. Everyone knows you cannot escape and get freedom at the same time. So easily.
“I’ll be there, but I need to clean some stuff up.”
“Sure you do need to clean yourself up too,” Effie blocked her nose from the alcohol. Haymitch rolling his eyes then watching you both going to his room. Effie escorts you, only for two seconds until you fall asleep.
After his shower, the sound of crickets from the early summer days filled the air as he opened the window of his room for a fresh breeze. When he got dressed into a linen shirt, he glanced from his widow to you sleeping so peacefully. A soul he couldn’t protect from day one and still to this day. One he had promised to stay with when you had said back at the Capitol’s party.
He then walked to this bed, crawled into his mattress and wrapped his arm around you tightly. Leaving kisses down your back, knowing you were asleep he whispered to himself,
“I am sorry I couldn’t protect you sooner, let alone now. Freedom is a gift you pay someone a lot of life’s worth in the President’s eyes… I am so sorry but you wanted the freedom you craved and I had to do what was needed.”
He pauses, almost believing himself not to cry,
“I too wanna live a life with you, Y/N. If you don’t and can’t forgive me it’s fine. I still have a hard time forgetting myself. But I will always be there.”
And turned off the lamp by his bedroom, holding you close. Little did he know that you heard him clearly. You cried silently when opening your eyes slightly. Listening to his every word.
“You are forgiven, Abernathy. Freedom is a beautiful gift not a lot of us can have today… I know my parents are now finally resting from this torture. I love you, Haymitch Abernathy.”
He opened his eyes, almost certain he heard it, yet your back was still facing him. “I love you too.” Then the both of you finally slept, in a place that felt finally like freedom.
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