@assundries ( continued. )
Haymitch continues to stare up at the ceiling, expression bitter as he glares at the cracks there. His whole house is a wreckage; the wallpaper is discolored and peeling, the windows unevenly set in their frames, the doors crooked or fully detached from the hinges. It's an ugly, unpleasant place that he hates as much as-- well, everywhere. There are no good memories left for him.
He exhales hard out of his nose in a near-laugh.
"You two idiots are the only things I've invested energy in since my own games," he grumbles, taking a sip from the bottle he's been clutching like a lifeline. "The fact that you're both still alive is an exception. I'm toxic, kid. This is your future now you're a victor. Hoo-fuckin'-ray."












