❤️The Biggest Love Affair of Panem ✨ "somewhere only we know.." Hayffie| Hayffie Week Day 5 : Secrets
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❤️The Biggest Love Affair of Panem ✨ "somewhere only we know.." Hayffie| Hayffie Week Day 5 : Secrets
Hayffie Week : Day 5
vi. Secrets – April 22, 2016
This one’s for @effiestrinkets We were talking and came up with this plot so I said I’ll write it :) This is a Superhero AU.
The Ballad of A Drunk & His Lady: Always
To say that prison left an effect on her would be an understatement. Prison changed her, made her into a different person. For weeks now, Effie had not felt as if she was the same person as before her arrest.
Everyone - her doctor, Peeta, her sister and Annie – including Haymitch, had told her that she needed to give herself time, and that it was normal to face trauma from her experience. She wasn’t sure. It seemed easy to chalk it all up to trauma, it seemed like a catch-all and she wasn’t comfortable with that.
Was it trauma that she snapped at people, Haymitch mostly, for the most banal of things and mistakes? Was it trauma to always be quick to anger? Was it trauma to dream night after night watching herself slowly slipping away and losing control, and hurting everyone around her especially Haymitch? Was it trauma to have her hands shake and for the objects around her to vibrate and crash?
She wasn’t certain if trauma had anything to do with the latter, but she could be wrong. She could simply just be insane.
I’m insane.
That thought circulated in her mind as she stared at the chair hovering in circles a few inches above ground. The energy thrummed in her body, shifting outwards from her core towards her hand.
This was not the first time it happened. It was the third time this week and each time it happened, Effie felt a strange sense of peace washing over her. It made her crave for it, made her want to use and accept whatever it was that had inflicted her and given her these capabilities.
She had no explanation for what was going on and she was afraid, rightfully so.
The knock on the door startled her. With her concentration broken, the chair thudded loudly to the floor, falling backwards.
The knocking stopped. Holding her breath, Effie waited.
“You okay, sweetheart? Did somethin’ happen or what? Thought I heard a crash.”
“I – Yes, I’m fine,” she stammered. “My book fell.”
Her heart was still racing.
“Right. I came to tell you that Peeta sent bread. Come down and eat.”
“I’ll be… I’ll be out in a minute, Haymitch!”
Effie righted the chair and waited. She heard Haymitch’s retreating footsteps and heard him moving about in the kitchen. She retraced her steps back to her bed.
She had been here for a while and during that time, not once had she told him about what was happening to her. How could she when she didn’t know it herself?
Haymitch wasn’t blind, though. He noticed something was not sitting right and he made an effort to ask her about it. She lied to him, like she had been for weeks now. She told him the shakes were from her panic attacks. He was worried, she could tell, and he wanted her to talk but she always ready with a smile on her face, assuring him that she was fine. She told him the cold sweat and bouts of fever was because she was tired which affected her immune system. Still, no matter what he said, she wouldn’t see the doctor. She had enough of those.
She should tell him. She was living in his house. Something was clearly happening to her and it could affect him one way or another. She didn’t know how long she could deal with this alone.
Effie trusted him with her life but she was afraid of what he would think of her if he knew.
Despite what she told him earlier, Effie remained in her bed for the rest of the day.
He was trying and he was meeting a brick wall at each turn. He was trying to understand her but it was a difficult thing to do when she remained cooped up in her room and gave him no chance to reach out to her. He was also trying to be patient with her and on most days, he was good at being patient with her except today.
When he came up again that night, he sounded annoyed. She wondered if something had happened but somehow, she couldn’t muster the will to ask him about it.
“Come on, Effs,” he growled. “How long are you going to stay in that damn room? I went down to the kitchen and your lunch’s still there. You haven’t had anything to eat since yesterday morning. Are you tryin’ to make yourself sick or what ‘cause if you are then tell me. I won’t bother so fucking much about you.”
She flinched.
“I know you’re listening,” he spoke again from outside the door which she kept locked lately, a fact that hurt him since she had never locked her door to him. “I gotta worry about the kids next door and now I gotta worry about you, too. Just come out and eat, and I won’t bother you for the rest of the night.”
“I will eat when I’m hungry, Haymitch,” Effie answered tiredly.
She closed her eyes, willing him to go away.
“That’s bullshit. You ain’t gonna do it on your own. I had to force you to have somethin’ yesterday. You want me to get one of the kids? 'Cause I will,” he threatened.
“No!” Effie sat up abruptly. “Please, don’t do that.”
“Then come out and – Fuck, Effs, just – just come out, okay? You’ve been holed up in there for days, maybe even weeks, who the fuck knows? Come out here, let me see you.”
“I’m tired, Haymitch. Please just leave me be. I will be fine tomorrow. I just need to sleep and rest.”
“Yeah, see, that’s the funny thing. You’ve been saying the same shit. This is my house and you’re - ”
“I’m what?” She asked with a tinge of fear. Had she overstayed? Had she imposed on him for too long? There was no where else for her to go. “Do you want me to leave?”
“I want you to come out,” he hammered lightly against the door. “Look, maybe we can take a walk outside or somethin’. The night’s young and weather’s good, sweetheart. You need fresh air.”
“I’ll open the window,” she answered instead. “I’ll get fresh air.”
“Dammit, Effie,” he cursed loudly, losing his patience. “I’m comin’ in.”
The sound of the key sliding into the keyhole made her panic. She didn’t know he had a key. The lock clicked and the knob turned, and Effie saw it all happening slowly in front of her, the time to stretch in her dread.
Her heart was beating wildly in her chest. Her throat felt constricted and she couldn’t draw air. Her hands were clammy and her skin cold. Effie felt the familiar swirl of energy rising in her, forcing its way out.
No, no, no.
Opening her mouth, Effie gulped in air, forcing herself to calm down and to push the energy down where it can lie dormant like it had been for the past hours while she was in bed and did not feel the least bit threatened.
“Don’t come it,” the words tore from her throat She was desperate for him to heed the warning for his own safety. “Don’t come in, Haymitch!”
Don’t come in, please, don’t come in. I don’t want to kill you, she pleaded.
The tears were stinging her eyes and Effie choke back a sob. She couldn’t control it. She had known it for a very long time that she had no control over what was happening to her, and he was about to pay the price for her secrecy. She should have left. She should never have stayed with him and endanger him but it was too late now.
There was nothing she could do to stop it.
Effie slid to the floor, falling on her knees. She kept her palms pressed hard against the wooden floor in the hopes that whatever it was that was about to come out of her, it would be directed downwards and not at Haymitch.
He stood at the doorway, mouth open in shock, staring at the sight he was confronted with.
“What the fuck?” he breathed out.
Everything in the room, every object from the lamp to the chair, the vanity, the things on it and the bed, was suspended in mid-air, levitating out of balance.
Effie raised her head, pleading with him.
“You need to leave. I – I don’t know what’s happening.”
His gaze fell on her, still in shock and disbelief but she detected no fear in them. There was worry instead.
He took a step forward, hand raised to reach out for her.
Effie blinked. He thinks I’m in danger, he doesn’t realise I’m the danger.
“Effie.”
“I said leave!” she screamed in anger, frustrated that he wasn’t getting it.
The energy she had tried so hard to contain burst forth from her, hitting Haymitch square in the chest. He flew back, hitting the wall hard and crashed against the floor.
“No!”
The crackling in the air disappeared and the furniture crashed back to the floor.
Effie scrambled forward towards Haymitch only to stop short. She was afraid to touch him, afraid to hurt him even more. In a daze, she sat next to him, staring blankly at the wall ahead of her.
Please wake up. Please wake up, Haymitch.
The last man did not wake up. He had crashed just like Haymitch had and never got up. That Peacekeeper had died from a broken neck and she had done it. She truly didn’t mean to but he came at her with a gun, and she was so terrified that it just happened.
Effie never left his side. The night grew older, and on a tree in the distance, an owl hooted. From the outside, no one could tell that something was amiss except in the house, Haymitch was still unconscious and next to him was a frightened woman.
“Haymitch,” she called out his name tentatively.
How long had it been?
He’s dead. Just like that man you killed in prison. Haymitch is dead and it’s your fault. It’s your fault.
His painful groans caught her attention. Effie’s head snapped towards him. She never took her eyes off him as he slowly pushed himself up, rubbing the back of his head.
“I think it’s bleeding,” he muttered. “Could be worse. Could have broken a spine.”
“Haymitch,” she called out. She wanted to touch him but drew her hand back.
He turned towards her, asking, “You okay?”
“I – Are you… You’re alive.”
“Yeah,” he chuckled. “Alcohol didn’t kill me, don’t think that will. Whatever that was. That was you, yeah?”
“I don’t know what that is. I – I need to leave. I’m a danger to you,” she declared.
“Woah, sweetheart. Hold on. I’m fine. I’m fine, Effie. Maybe a concussion but I’m fucking fine. Sit down,” his fingers closed around her upper arm before she could protest and guided her towards the bed. “How did you do - ” he gestured around her room at the furniture he saw floating before he was knocked out.
“I don’t know. I couldn’t do it before.”
“Before what? When did you discover you can do this?”
“After … After you got me out. I – Why are you so calm about this?”
“One of us gotta be, right? What happens when you panic?”
“I hurt you.”
“Exactly. So I’m gonna keep my calm but you need to start explaining. I need to understand.”
“I killed a man, Haymitch,” she admitted it. If this was a day of finding out truths, then he should know the monster that she had become. “In prison. I – It was an accident, just like with you! I didn’t mean it. You have to believe me. I didn’t mean to kill him.”
“Okay, okay,” he nodded and took her hand in his. “I believe you. What’s going on, sweetheart?”
Effie told him. She spilled everything that she had kept guarded to her heart; the dismay at not being rescued together with Peeta, Johanna and Annie, the betrayal she felt at being left behind because she wasn’t on the list and the fear of dying there in prison. The thought consumed her and when the Peacekeeper came for her, she had felt so terribly helpless. She didn’t think she could take another beating or another mind game. All she wanted was to protect herself from him.
“And you did,” Haymitch assured her. “Your body did … or maybe it was your mind. Hell, sweetheart, could have been instinct itself. What happened to that man, it wasn’t your fault. It’s self-defense. You did it to protect. Whatever it is that’s going on with you, whatever abilities you have, it’s a possible defense mechanism, sweetheart. It’s not your fault.”
“It’s a curse.”
“It’s a protection,” he insisted and tilted her chin up, “for you. It’s there to protect you against anythin’ you perceive as a threat or harm. Like you did with me earlier and think ‘bout it… It manifested in prison, yeah? Ain’t that a time of danger for you?”
“Prison broke me, Haymitch,” she refused to look at him. She couldn’t. Softly, she said, “I’m a killer. I’ve – I’ve had children’s blood on my hands and now… I killed a man.”
“Then you ain’t the only one in the room,” he murmured. “I’ve killed people, too.”
“What does that make us, Haymitch?”
“Survivors,” he shrugged and pulled her close.
“I’m not afraid of you,” she confessed quietly, feeling the weight of his arm around her shoulder. “I’m afraid of what I can do to you… and the children. You saw for yourself what happened. I have no control over it and I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to hurt you.”
Pressing a kiss on her forehead, he said, “I’m not afraid of you either or what you can do. You shouldn’t have kept this from me, sweetheart. Trying to keep somethin’ this life-changing to yourself… I’m fuckin’ surprised you haven’t lost your mind yet.”
She afforded him a small smile.
“I very nearly did.”
“I can help. I don’t know how yet but we can figure this out together.”
"Together?” She peered up at him curiously.
“We’re a team, yeah?”
“We can’t be. You don’t have abilities,” she teased with a small smile.
“It’s a fuckin’ competition now?” he growled.
She pressed her nose against his neck. It felt good to be held by him, to be able to draw comfort from him.
“We’re a team,” he continued. “Your problem is you trying to put a lid on it. You’re tryin’ to pretend it doesn’t exist and push it down deep inside you, and when you’re angry, when your emotions are compromised, everythin’ that you pushed down, it exploded out of you. Use it, Effs, I think it’ll be better for you.”
She said nothing.
Her head was tucked under his chin and with his arms wrapped around her, for the first time in weeks, she felt safe. Safe and calm enough to turn her palm upwards and let the energy flow through her hand.
The hair brush on the vanity rose. It was steady and it followed the movement of her hand as she raised it higher. She felt in control. She felt calm enough to direct her energy properly. Effie was starting to think that perhaps Haymitch’s theory was right. Whatever this was, it was tied to her emotions.
The hair brush moved towards them until it was safely in the palm of her hand.
“Good job, sweetheart,” Haymitch squeezed her shoulder.
“Will you help me?”
“You don’t have to ask,” he told her.
She nodded and burrowed herself against him, seeking his warmth.
“I don’t know what I am anymore,” she said.
“You’re still you, still Effie. That’s who you are to me.”
She untangled herself from him and he watched her. She could see the surprise on his face when she leaned forward, brushing her lips against his. He rested his hand on the side of her neck, sliding it back to hold her as he deepened the kiss.
He missed her, she knew, and he was controlling himself, letting her take the reign. She could tell from the way his fingers were digging into the flesh of her waist to stop his hand from wandering and touching more than he should.
When she drew back, a little breathless and a little giddy, she ran her thumb over her lower lip. He smirked.
"I think it’s fitting that part of what you can do involve moving stuffs. Very convenient,” he remarked as he leaned back against the headboard. “We don’t even have to move around this house much.”
She frowned.
“Go on, sweetheart, use it. Get the food I left outside your door. We can eat it in bed. Go get it, tiger,” he teased.
“Do not call me that,” she snapped. “I thought you said my abilities was for protection, not to encourage your laziness.”
He chuckled in amusement and it made her smile, and she decided, rather than indulge him, she would prefer to get back to getting intimately acquainted with him. She missed him just as much.
In the morning, when she woke up with him next to her, the fact that he did not turn his back on her after finding out and the fact that he wasn’t afraid of her made her realise that she should never have kept his a secret from him.
He was there for her and he would be there for her.
Always.
When Effie hit Haymitch, you can think of… Havoc in X-Men: First Class and the propulsion of energy from his chest. Except his energy had that red aura to it, but just imagine Effie’s as an invisible burst of energy.
I had another plot of Effie using her superpower to do things like levitating objects around while she was cleaning when Haymitch/the kids walking in on her and finding out, and I ended up, surprise surprise, writing the angsty one.
It has been a fun week :) i hope the fandom had their fun too. :)
Hayffie Week - Day 2. Quotes – April 19, 2016
"It's quite a stretch. Effie Trinket, rebel."
p.s. How much you don’t notice, oh Katniss... you know nothing jon snow
p.p.s. Also quite an explanation why Haymitch left her behind - he was just too busy givin’ Effie’s gift to Finnick to notice Effie is already not right beside him.
Fate Is A Fickle Thing : Part 2
The long awaited second part I said I might write ;) This story fitted the third theme of hayffie week: cliché. So… here ;) I hope you enjoy it. It’s still crack-ish. [X] or {X]
Part 2
“Stupid, stupid, stupid…”
Effie kept her on muttering the very same litany she had been ever since Peeta had showed her to her room. The water slammed on her skin but if she had hoped a shower would erase her embarrassment, it wasn’t working so far.
What had she been thinking?
Offering a ride to a stranger? Sleeping with him ? Of course, it was always going to be a bad idea. She could have been murdered. All things considered, finding out her latest one night stand was the father figure to the woman her nephew was about to marry wasn’t the worst case scenario here.
A part of her wondered if she wouldn’t have preferred being murdered and buried on the side of the road.
She had kept a poker face in the kitchen earlier, shaking Haymitch’s hand and pretending not to know him. He had followed her lead but hadn’t been able to resist teasing her at every opportunity. She didn’t think the children had noticed anything though. She hoped they hadn’t. The last thing she wanted was for Peeta to find out she had slept with a stranger in a rented car. What sort of example would she be setting?
This was a disaster.
A complete disaster.
She tossed her head back, eyes closed, letting the stream of water wash the sleepless night from her face, and pushed her damp hair back.
She heard the click of the door being opened but before she could turn around or panic, an arm was wrapped around her waist, a hand pressed against her mouth to muffle the shriek.
“It’s just me. Relax.”
Her heartbeat slowly calmed down and she wondered at what point in the last hours his voice had become so familiar. She escaped his arm and turned around, automatically covering herself with her hand and forearm.
“What are you doing here?” she hissed.
Really, she should have been more outraged at him assuming he would be welcomed to join her in her shower – stark naked – but she was too busy taking everything in. It had been dark the night before and there hadn’t been much room for observation that morning. Car sex wasn’t made for… looking.
And what she had in front of her was certainly appealing.
His shoulders were broad and made her want to run her hands over them, maybe nip a little to test how firm the muscles were. He had no abs to speak off but he was lean and the pale hair on his chest made her mouth water. His arms were strong and so were his thighs. As for the rest… Oh, the rest made her ache for a third round. The rest felt too good buried deep inside her.
“Seriously?” he snorted, apparently amused that she was covering herself. “I’ve seen everything already.”
“That was before.” she retorted. The water was trickling down her back but she didn’t want to reach out to close the tap. “What are you doing here? I thought you had a house nearby.”
That was what Katniss had said anyway.
“Next door.” he nodded. “Sneaked back in.”
“Why?” she insisted. He lifted an eyebrow, his smirk enough of an answer and she immediately shook her head. “No, no, no. Nothing of that sort will ever happen again. If I had known who you were I would have never…”
“You do know how to flatter a guy’s ego, don’t you?” he mocked, reaching out to tuck a damp strand behind her ear. “Look… It was all fun, right? And it was fun. You’re here for the week-end… Can be fun all week-end… The kids don’t need to know about it. We don’t have to make a big deal about this.”
“You do realize once the children are married we will be family.” she retorted. “We will see each other often enough. There is no need to make this more awkward than it already is.”
“We’re having a talk in a shower, sweetheart.” he chuckled. “It’s always going to be awkward.”
She pursed her lips. “Well, you should have waited for me to come out like a decent human being. And dressed. Clothes are a key point here. Why aren’t you wearing any?”
It was distracting.
And it was even more distracting once he took a step forward and water splashed on him. It wasn’t fair. Not fair at all. Effie prided herself on an excellent self-control but it had been a very long time since she had an affair and even longer since she had decent sex. Sex with Haymitch was… very, very good. And being constricted in the car had hindered their moves. The things they could do with more room…
“’Cause I was planning on fucking you right here.” he declared, so crude and vulgar she shivered. It turned her on. It shouldn’t have but it did.
“Language.” she chided him for appearance’s sakes.
“You want me to go or to stay?” he asked, his eyes roaming on her, taking in everything he could see. She slowly lowered her arms, letting him get an eyeful.
“It is the last time.” she warned him. “The very last time.”
“Last time.” he agreed distractedly before pouncing on her.
She laughed, it was genuine and it took her aback because she was used to faking laughs. It soon turned to moans though.
She was right.
With more space, they were not just great they were amazing.
She could have grown used to having shower sex with Haymitch.
They lingered under the spray long after they were done. She briefly wondered if there was a water balloon and if she had just emptied it. They kissed and touched. Now that they had rode the frenzy, it was mostly innocent, almost exploratory… She lost herself in it, tilting her head when he brushed her hair aside to licked the water trickling down her neck, and grinning from ear to ear at his groan when she kneaded his butt cheek.
The knock on the bathroom door made her jump and she didn’t exactly know how to feel when his instinctive reaction faced with the startling noise and her obvious fright was to push her behind him.
“Effie?” Peeta called from the other side of the door. “You’ve been in there forever. Did you fall asleep?”
There was a tinge of worry underneath the amusement.
“I will be downstairs in a moment!” she replied. “I am afraid I did doze off a bit.”
“Lunch is almost ready.” her nephew told her. “Katniss has gone to fetch Haymitch.”
“Great.” Haymitch grumbled, reaching out for one of the towels on the rack.
“I’ll be right here.” she repeated for Peeta’s sake, catching the towel Haymitch tossed at her and wrapping it around her chest.
He got dressed quickly – in the very same clothes he had been wearing all night – and rubbed his wet hair before dropping the towel in the sink. Then he planted a kiss on her lips. “I’ll catch you later.”
“No, you won’t.” she retorted firmly. “This was the last time.”
His grey eyes were sparkling in obvious amusement. “If you say so, sweetheart.”
“I say so.” she stated.
Lunch was a disaster.
He seemed to be very good at sneaking in and out because the children didn’t suspect anything. The food was simple but good and for a while, she focused on Katniss and try to get to know her better. The girl wasn’t very open though and she was starting to be discouraged when Peeta whispered to her, in the kitchen, away from Katniss’ and Haymitch’s ears, that she had lost her sister a few years earlier, that her mother was mostly out of the picture because of this and that Haymitch hadn’t had much more luck in life. Peeta didn’t tell her to drop her inquiries but she was smart enough to get the hint, she turned her questions to Katniss’ archery skills instead.
It wasn’t long before Haymitch grew bored though.
“How was your shower, sweetheart?” he asked, cutting her off mid-sentence.
Peeta and Katniss exchanged a puzzled glance.
For her part, she glared.
The smug smirk and the knowing spark in his eyes made her annoyed though. Two could play that game after all.
“Hot.” she deadpanned.
“Yeah?” he chuckled. “Helped you unwind some? You must be tired after that long night…”
She glared harder, stabbing a tomato with her fork. “It would take much more than that to tire me out.”
“Week-end’s not over yet.” he challenged, licking his lips.
“Do you want some more salad?” Katniss cut in, tossing her uncle a dark look.
It didn’t discourage him of throwing various innuendos around. Effie took great pleasure in keeping her features schooled and deadpanning at every turn.
She pretended she didn’t enjoy the bantering as much as she really did.
She heard Katniss muttering several times to Haymitch to shut it and it made her smile although she felt a little guilty about it because Katniss was obviously a little nervous about meeting her.
She spent most of the afternoon catching up with Peeta. It was good to see her nephew. They talked on the phone every week but… It wasn’t the same as seeing him in person.
It was lucky she never went anywhere without a cocktail dress because she would have otherwise been forced to attend the party in everyday wear. She couldn’t help pouting at her reflection in the mirror though, not quite happy with it. If she had known there was going to be a party, she would have brought a better dress. This red one was classic and it wasn’t her favorite. Her chest looked too flat and her stomach, on the other hand, didn’t.
There were already guests in the living-room when she wandered downstairs and she realized, belatedly, that she and Peeta didn’t have the same definition of party. People were wearing jeans and she was clearly overdressed.
“Red looks good on you.” Haymitch murmured in her ear on his way to the table covered with bottles of liquor. His hand briefly rested at the small of her back and drifted lower when he left.
She chose to pretend nothing had happened and helped Peeta make sure everyone had drinks and food. There were a lot of people and a lot of names to remember. Johanna, Beetee, Finnick, Annie… The whole town seemed to be there. She smiled and nodded and exchanged pleasantries…
“Nice ass.” a man commented as she was placing a tray full of freshly baked cupcakes on a table.
She glanced at him. He was standing with Haymitch, far enough that she supposed she wasn’t meant to hear. He was missing a hand and was not wearing a prosthesis or trying to hide it. She went back to arranging the cupcake, pricking her ears. Whatever Haymitch answered, it was too low for her to catch.
“Well, if you’re not going for it, I am.” the man laughed.
“No, you’re not.” Haymitch growled.
“Oh, you tapped it already?” his friend asked, apparently amused. “Quick job, you did. She’s been here what? Six hours? What’s she like? Tiger or vanilla?”
She pursed her lips and pretended to be entirely focused on the cupcakes, awaiting the unavoidable crude answer Haymitch would give. Men were peacocks. They liked to preen. No matter how disparaging it was for the women involved.
“Shut up.” Haymitch snarled, surprising her. “Don’t make her sound like a slut. Didn’t happen like that.”
“You like her.” the man answered and it sounded almost awed to her ears, like it was a miracle Haymitch could actually like anyone.
It took a few seconds for Haymitch to answer and she could feel his eyes burning a hole in her neck. “She’s something else, that girl.”
She made a hasty exit toward another group of people. His eyes followed her. She felt them on her all night. Every time she glanced in his direction he was staring at her legs or her ass or her chest. When their gaze met, he either winked or smirked.
Despite her reserves about the dress, the way he looked at her made her feel hot.
She started flashing him a little cleavage when she bent to grab a glass on the coffee table. She brushed against him on purpose when she walked around. She flashed him slow cocky smiles from the other side of the room.
It affected him.
It was obvious.
But he never once made a move on her.
Half the people were gone by the time she cornered him in the kitchen.
“One would think you do not know how to take a hint.” she observed, trailing her hand on the back of the chairs and on the table as she walked closer to him, a predatory spring in her steps.
He was leaning against the counter, a half full glass of whiskey in his hand, a smirk on his lips. “You said this morning was the last time. I listened.”
“You are not the sort of men who listen when they want a woman.” she huffed, pouting a little. “Don’t you want me anymore?”
“Coy is so not your style.” he snorted.
“What is my style?” she challenged.
“Dangerous temptress.” he answered at once, without missing a beat.
It was her turn to chuckle. “Well… The dangerous temptress I am is going to tell the children she is retiring for the night. I will be on my bed. Naked. Feel free to join.”
She was being bolder than she usually was with men she had just met – never mind never dated – but it was thrilling nonetheless.
At least until she found herself actually naked on her bed, in a sexy position that wasn’t comfortable, waiting for the door to open.
She waited fifteen minutes.
Then she angrily wrapped her silk dressing gown around herself and told herself she was stupid. She had been acting like a fool for twenty-four hours. How was she supposed to face Haymitch the next day? Never mind for the rest of her life? There would be the children’s wedding and family events after that and…
She flushed crimson.
She was an idiot.
She was so busy berating herself she almost didn’t hear the door handle turning. She did hear the lock falling into place though.
“What happened to being naked on the bed?” Haymitch teased.
“I grew bored of it ten minutes ago.” she snapped, turning her back on him to draw the curtains close. “Goodnight.”
“Katniss wouldn’t let me go.” he grumbled, wrapping his arms around her, pressing his chest to her back. “I did as fast as I could. You’re a bitchy person, sweetheart. Anyone ever told you that?”
“Oh, as if you were so delightful yourself.” she hissed.
He smirked and damn his smirk.
“Good thing you like bad boys, right?” he mocked.
“Good thing you like difficult women.” she taunted right back.
And then they were kissing again.
She quickly decided having sex with Haymitch in a bed was even better than the car or the shower. It was more comfortable at any rate.
She expected him to sneak out as soon as they were done but he seemed to be just as exhausted as she was – and with good reasons, they hadn’t slept much the previous night – because he remained where he was, legs tangled with hers, arms firmly locked around her.
She didn’t realize she was falling asleep until it was too late.
She woke up to irritated groans and it took her a few minutes to realize Haymitch was making the noises in his sleep and that it was more than probably a reaction to the loud hammering taking place outside. She didn’t know what the children were doing but really they should have done it a little more quietly.
She hummed and buried further into his warmth, breathing him in. He smelt like faint whiskey, sweat and sleep. She liked it.
“What the fuck are they doing?” he mumbled against her hair.
“Don’t know.” she slurred, still half asleep, nuzzling his throat with her nose.
It wasn’t until she heard a key being wedged into place and the loud clink of the lock being turned that she realized what was going on.
The hammering had actually been knocks and by the time her brain woke up enough to tell her to scream for them to stop, the door was open and the children were standing there, gaping.
“What the fuck!” Haymitch shouted, quickly drawing the sheets up to cover them both properly. Effie lost no time in wrapping it around her chest. Too late though if Peeta’s peeved expression was to be believed. “Can’t you fucking knock?”
Katniss didn’t look impressed. “We’ve been knocking for twenty minutes. It’s two p.m. We were worried Effie had gone into a coma or something.”
“Oh.” she winced, glancing at the clock. How on Earth had they slept so long? “I am fine.”
“Clearly.” the girl scoffed, her grey eyes darting from her to her uncle.
“This is so embarrassing.” she muttered.
“You think?” Peeta cringed, looking red in the face. “How did this even happen?”
“You want me to draw you a picture?” Haymitch snapped.
“I mean you weren’t drunk.” her nephew groaned. “Neither of you. How…”
“Are you saying a man should be drunk to want to sleep with me?” Effie frowned, patting her hair self-consciously. “I can assure you…”
“Don’t assure me anything. I don’t want to know.” Peeta cut her off, rubbing his face.
“I told you to be on your best behavior with her.” Katniss scowled, clearly exasperated. “I told you…”
“I was on my best behavior. Heard no complaining from her.” Haymitch interrupted. “Made sure she came first and everything. Got any complaint, sweetheart?”
“Haymitch!” she gasped in horror, whacking his chest.
“Oh god, this is the worst.” Peeta mumbled.
“Then maybe fuck off.” Haymitch growled. “She’s not dead. I’m not dead. Get the fuck out and next time wait for us to tell you it’s okay to come in.”
“It’s our house!” Katniss exclaimed.
“Well next time I’ll take her to mine!” he shouted back. “Out. Now.”
The children scampered away and closed the door behind them, leaving Effie to flop on her back in the bed, her hands pressed against her face, absolutely mortified. Peeta had a point, this was the worst.
“Next time?” she asked anyway, from behind her hands.
She felt him shrug.
“If you want to.” he grumbled, settling back down next to her.
She dropped her hands and studied him. “I would love to.”
She was rather glad they had missed that plane after all. Maybe it had been meant to happen this way.
Maybe fate wasn’t such a fickle thing after all.
Hayffie Week : Day 3
iii. Clichés– April 20, 2016
Because the theme, I chose a cliche plot and hope that it is cliche enough for the theme! It’s got a dead grandmother, a will and marriage.
Also, in all seriousness, I meant for this to be a cliche rom-com but mid story, it turns out angsty.
The Ballad of A Drunk & His Lady: If there’s a Will, there’s a way.
Nona Trinket was born on the ninth day of the eleventh month and often joked that if she didn’t die on the ninth month, her name would be wasted and she would be sorely disappointed. Effie hated that joke simply because she hated thinking about a world without her grandmother.
That day had come to pass. Her grandmother had perished during the Rebellion, and it pained Effie’s heart more than any torture or cruelty President Snow could inflict on her. Still, she shouldered on after her grandmother’s death and after the war, trying to rebuild her life. The psychological and emotional scar was a challenge but so was the environment. The country was picking itself up from the ashes and the economy was bad. Still, Effie was determined to move on and adapt.
When she received a call from a law firm seeking her presence in the office, she was surprised and then she began to count her luck. Even in death, her grandmother was looking out for her.
Effie sat on the hardback chair, listening attentively to the lawyer explaining to her about her grandmother’s Last Will and Testament. It all seemed perfectly in order until the lawyer came upon a clause.
"I beg your pardon?" Effie said sharply.
The man cleared his throat nervously.
"It states right here in the Will," he slid it across the table. "It forms part of the condition, a major condition and I'm afraid I will not be able to release the inheritance to you until you have fulfilled said condition."
Trust her grandmother to have something up her sleeve, Effie fumed to herself.
"Oh, really? She is always full of funny business, that woman. Mother often said she never quite behaved the way it was expected from someone born and raised in the Capitol, and this is proof of it, is it not? Now, Otho, what else does my grandmother need from me - my first born child or perhaps, a chalice of sacrificial blood?"
Otho seemed taken aback by the tone of her voice. “Miss Trinket, you are quite possibly –“
"Being overdramatic? Or overreacting? Well, yes, I think I am. You would be too if you are in my shoes. I mean, I am being told that I would have to get married in order to get her inheritance,” Effie went off, her voice raising a notch higher. “Who does that? Have you had any clients who had such similar stipulations as Nona Trinket? I hardly think so. Which begs the question, why would anyone – Why would my grandmother place such a demand upon me? Unbelievable! If you think I am being dramatic, well this Will, is a fine example of my grandmother being dramatic, as well."
"Well," Otho laughed lightly. "She explained to me the reason she believe the clause was necessary.”
“Oh, please, do enlighten me.”
“Nona was worried about you. You know she loves you dearly, more than anything.”
“What was it that she was worried about?”
“That you will never settle down, of course. That you will never find yourself a good husband. The years went by and you came home with no suitors. You rejected reputable men that your mother chose for you. Naturally, Nona was worried. She came here a few months before the Rebellion broke out to amend her Will to include the clause. She was very proud of herself,” Otho smiled at the memory. “She said she had found a way.”
Effie bit the inside of her cheek. She had her reasons for rejecting those men. There was only one person she wanted and he didn’t feel for her the same way she did for him, not as deeply. Then again, they never were one to talk about the nature of their relationship and so Effie kept him to herself, her own dark secret. She didn’t even talk about him to her grandmother. Nona would probably be more accepting of Haymitch than her mother ever would but Effie would never find out now.
"This is preposterous, Otho. It is archaic. Surely it is within the capacity and jurisdiction of the courts to revoke such unfair terms?"
"The law is clear on this, Effie. The terms of the Will have to be fulfilled. You have thirty days to find yourself a husband, failing which your inheritance will be released to the State. Your thirty days begin from the day you are made aware of the contents of the said Will. That will be today. Good luck, Effie."
Nona had left her a comfortable sum of money that could help her. She could get a better house with no leaking roof and hot running water in a better neighbourhood where she didn’t have to sleep with an eye open, where she wouldn’t be robbed like she had been robbed twice before. She could move to a nice neighbourhood where she wouldn’t have to walk with a key between her fingers in fear that she would be attacked.
She would not have to worry about having enough to last her till her next salary. She would even have enough for a start-up capital to start a business.
Effie read the Will again. Forget a new house. She would inherit her grandfather’s cosy house in the suburbs of the Capitol. The State had seized it after the war ended and it would be release to her, the rightful owner.
Except, of course, for that small problem on hand - she needed a husband.
The first thing she did was to work out every loophole in that Will that she could think of. So far, it was fool proof and even with Plutarch’s help, they found only one way around it but she would still need to get married.
“I’d rather not, Plutarch, I’d rather not get married at all. Surely there has to be another way?” she lamented desperately. “I have a mere fourteen days left and that is hardly sufficient time to properly get to know someone for me to marry him.”
“It says marriage, it says nothing about getting to know someone and I have pointed it out to you, Effie, it certainly made no mention of you having to remain married. Do as I suggest.”
Effie released a breath. "I will still need to find someone, and nobody wants to be associated with me. I am traitor, after all, to both sides."
"There are no sides anymore. You are thinking of strangers, why not set your sight to your friends and acquaintances?
“I don’t have that many of them left. And even so, Annie and Johanna would hardly be suitable. Peeta is like a son to me.”
“You are on the right path,” Plutarch egged her. “Who else?”
“Haymitch,” she breathed out.
Her heart clenched painfully at the thought of him and she felt the familiar pull of longing.
"You should call him. He misses you."
XxX
Effie didn’t call him.
She was of the opinion that this was the kind of conversation one should have in person. So there she was on a train enroute to District Twelve, feeling anxious and apprehensive. It wasn’t the impending marriage proposal that had her nerves tangled, it was the thought of meeting him after so long.
When she stood in front of his door, a part of her wished that he would not open the door for her so she could turn around and leave but that did not happen. He pulled the door open and did a double take at the sight of her before he stepped back to let her in.
“Hello, Haymitch,” she greeted him, her voice soft and gentle.
He dropped on the sofa across from her, watching her warily.
“What are those noises?”
“Geese,” he said.
“I’m sorry to drop in unannounced,” she apologised but Haymitch merely stared at her. It made her uncomfortable and always someone who needed to fill the silence, she asked, “How are you doing?”
“Didn’t think you’d care,” he shot back.
Effie sighed. This was all going horribly wrong.
She couldn’t fault him. The last time they spoke, there had been a lot of harsh words thrown back and forth, before she completely deflated and collapsed on the chair in Snow’s mansion. She told him that she was disappointed in him and that had hurt him more than her anger would have. She had told him that she never wanted to see him again and that the only thing he could do for her after leaving her behind to be tortured was to never look for her.
“You did it once before. You left me and never came looking. You can do it again,” she had said.
She saw the hurt flashed in his eyes and somehow, a small part of her drew satisfaction from that. He had stormed out then, took Katniss home and had taken her words to heart. He never looked for her and left her alone just like she wanted. He never call, he never write, he never step foot in the City, but he asked after her from the kids and from Plutarch.
"I need your help," she admitted.
"Do you?” he scoffed. “That’ll explain the visit. People don’t usually come lookin’ for me unless they want somethin’ from me.”
She was quiet because he was right. He was always on her mind but her anger had made her kept him at an arm’s length and now that he was the only person who could help her, she came looking for him.
"What is it?” Haymich leaned forward when Effie was quiet for too long, the concern etched on his face. “Everything alright?"
Her heart was divided and the self-doubt had sowed its seed in her mind.
Is this the right thing to do?
Effie raised her head to look at him and she knew, really knew that if she asked, he would do it. He would help her if it meant helping her get out of the situation she was in, and partly because he would be driven by his guilt for leaving her behind and needing to make things right. He would think that he owed it to her and he would do it to settle the score. That was what she thought and it didn’t sit right with her to manipulate him in that way.
She rose to her feet.
She couldn't do it. She didn't want to take advantage of his lingering guilt. It was wrong. She couldn’t back him into that proverbial corner.
She had to find someone else. There was bound to be a willing man somewhere. She just had to look.
Perhaps, Otho could draft a contract for her and whichever man she could convince to enter into the contract with her. The terms would be simple enough. They would get married and then divorce once she received her inheritance and in return, she could give a percentage of her inheritance to the man. Circumstances in the Capitol was dire enough for people to do what it takes for money, even it means marrying her.
"I'm terribly sorry but I – I should go."
Effie turned to leave but he grabbed her arm to stop her. The touch of his hand on her skin sent her reeling off balance. Her body thrummed and she longed for his touch, for him to take her into his arms.
"Sweetheart," Haymitch started.
It made her bit her lip. She used to hate that moniker when they first met but now, she missed it too much.
"You said you needed help."
"I – I thought I did. You're not the right person for it, I'm sorry, Haymitch. I've wasted your time."
"You didn't waste mine. You wasted yours. You came all the way down to Twelve and now you're getting cold feet ‘cause that's what this is, ain't it? You're gettin' cold feet. Spit it out, sweetheart. If you really need help then say it. I ain’t gonna mock you for it. Listen, whatever it is, if you’re in trouble or anythin’ like that, you tell me. I’m here, Effs, I’ll help.”
"You will. That's the problem, Haymitch, you will agree to it. And what I intend to ask you will be the most absurd thing you've ever heard and you wouldn't be amenable to it but your guilt - "
"What’s guilt got to do with anything?"
"I know you,” she spoke quietly. “Sometimes I think I know you too much. You haven't forgiven yourself for leaving me behind."
“You haven’t forgiven me,” he murmured. "What is it that you need, Effie? Must be serious if you’re bringing that up. Tell me."
"I need you to marry me."
Haymitch stared, loss for words. He opened his mouth to say something but snapped it shut a second later.
"You need me - say that again."
“I need you to marry me.”
His gaze instinctively fell on her stomach, searching for a sign.
"It's not like that!" she sputtered defensively. "You didn't impregnate me. I am – I am not pregnant."
“You better start explaining why you’re suddenly here with a fuckin’ marriage proposal.”
She painstakingly explained it to him, including the way around that she and Plutarch had thought of.
"It'll be a temporary arrangement. A few months at best, and once the terms of the Will are fulfilled then we can get a divorce. You won’t ever have to see me again."
He rubbed his hand at the back of his neck and threw her a sharp, disdainful look at her last sentence. "So it's all very simple and technical to you, huh?"
"Yes," she nodded.
“Marriage ain’t a contract, sweetheart. That’s not how things are done here in Twelve. What you want to do dishonours the sanctity of a marriage. It ain’t a contract,” he repeated himself, “it’s a commitment.”
Effie never expected that from him. She never expected to hear that but they were both raised differently. It was just like sex. She was open and willing to experiment with different lovers when she was younger, while he didn’t understand how anyone could be so blasé about it in the Capitol.
It’s a commitment.
If he ever chose to marry, that woman was lucky, Effie thought.
The Capitol did not hold the same view on marriage. There was a lot of marriage of convenience, a lot marriage based on contract terms, open marriages which allowed you to keep more than one partner and marriages based on pre-nuptial agreements.
“I - It doesn't matter, like I said, this is a mistake. You don’t have to do this."
"If I said no, who will you ask?"
"I will find a way," she tossed him what she hoped was a reassuring smile because truly, she had no one else.
"Not good enough. Who will you ask?"
"I don't know, Haymitch. I thought of you first so I came and I – Look, this is not your problem. This is mine. It is my life so I will find a way."
"We get married, you get the money and then we get a divorce, yeah?"
"Yes."
"No funny business in that damn Will like you needin’ to have a kid or anythin’ like that?"
"No. The Will made no mention of it."
“I’ve got money. You can – “
“I don’t want your charity,” Effie told him angrily.
Once again, she rose to leave but he beat her to it.
"Fine, I'll do it because you ask."
"Haymitch..."
"I said yes, didn't I? If that money and that house is what you need to get your life together and move on, then..." he shrugged and left, leaving her alone in the living room.
He disappeared into the backyard. She would have gone after him but she knew he needed time alone to come to terms with what he just agreed. Effie pinched the bridge of her nose. She fervently hoped that she had not made a grave mistake. For years, when she lay next to him on the bed on the mornings when she woke up first, she had fantasize about what it would be like to be married to him, to wake up to lazy mornings with him next to her and to wear his clothes because it was more comfortable than hers. She had tried to imagine being married to him and now that he had agreed to it, she could no longer picture it.
She wanted it to be real. She never wanted it to be like this.
She wanted it to be real.
Please let me know what you think of this!
I always tried.
Hayffie Week Day 2: Quote
Based on lyrics from a song that I wrote called ‘Gone’.
hayffie week day 2: quote
not that haymitch and effie are fighting anymore instead they seem to be of one mind, determined to whip us into shape
Hayffie Week - Day 2
ii. Quotes– April 19, 2016
"I have a crush on Elizabeth Banks, I'm not going to lie," admits Woody Harrelson
Between an angsty quote and a light-hearted one, surprisingly, I decided to do on a light-hearted one.
The Ballad of A Drunk & His Lady: Half-Truths
The remodelled studio was different. It was smaller with a lesser audience capacity. Still, as with everything with Caesar Flickerman, it was bright and lively and glaring.
Effie walked in, taking in the sight of the studio. Her gaze strayed towards the raised platform with its comfortable chairs and cushions. That would be where she would be sitting this evening.
She pressed her hand against her thigh as she walk, swallowing the apprehension. Tonight would be her first public appearance after the Rebellion and it was natural that there was much public anticipation for it.
Haymitch was against it. Johanna had told her she didn't owe those people anything but Peeta had supported her. Plutarch had said that some of the people in the Capitol were lost, unable to cope after the war. Effie was managing and she was one of them. If, she, who had suffered brutally under President Snow could manage and move on with her life, then perhaps she could inspire others to do the same, give them hope.
The interview would be done before a live audience. Plutarch had convinced Caesar to keep the number of audiences small for Effie's sake. Still, a hundred people in the audience was still a hundred too many, and it was causing her heart to race and her anxiety to mount.
The interview started off on a good note. She had done interviews before as an escort and with Caesar, who possessed the ability to make his guests feel at ease, it was easy enough to fall back on her experience, and soon, she found herself laughing at something Caesar said.
"Yes, you're right," she smiled. "I picked up a lot of different habits after the war. I think it drove some people over the edge since I was always jumping from one activity to another but it helps to keep my mind occupied. I tried gardening, believe it or not," she nodded earnestly as if to convince Caesar and the audiences, "but I don't have what Johanna called 'green hands' so that didn't work out too well. Peeta tried to get me into painting but umm," she pinched her lips and made a face, "it wasn't for me. I even collected seashells to make them into necklaces but that didn’t hold my attention for long. In the end, I settled for knitting."
"Knitting? A peculiar choice…"
"Yes, I knit a lot. It annoys Johanna tremendously, the clicking of the needles, but I enjoy it. In fact, I think I'm getting quite good at it, if I may say so myself."
"You've brought something with you to the studio..." Caesar said and pulled something out from next the chair he was sitting on.
He lifted it up for the audiences to see.
"Yes!" Effie nodded with a pleased smile on her face. "That's – ah – I knitted that for Annie's son. It was one of the first sweaters I managed to complete. I'm very proud of that."
"You should be. It has quite the design," he remarked. "Now, Effie, District Four... That's where you've been since the war ended."
"That's right," she smiled.
"Has it help with your recovery? And why Four of all places?"
Effie faltered for a second but she smiled and answered the question. "It has. I couldn't be in the Capitol after the Rebellion without it triggering... certain memories so I followed Annie and Johanna to Four. It helps to be away for a little while, to heal. And with Annie expecting a baby at that time, she needed all the help she could get, too. I'm not saying everyone should pack their bags and leave in order to build a life but for me, that was what it takes. Everyone copes differently though one needs to be adaptable. I had to adapt to life in District Four but it was worth it for my well-being."
"Tell me about Four," Caesar encouraged. "What is it like there? Is it different than how you remember it?"
"Well," Effie licked her lip and folded her hands across her lap. "It's a very different lifestyle than how it is here. It's a peaceful place. Life is slow there. It's calming to wake up to the sound of the waves crashing against the shore. Annie's house isn't too far from the beach so the waves... That's usually the first thing I hear in the morning when I wake up. That or Finn's crying," she laughed lightly and it made the audience laughed too. "It's a good place, Caesar."
"I can see it in you," Caesar patted her hand. "It looks like Four is good for you. So is this glow of - shall we say happiness? Or contentment? - due to District Four being a calm and peaceful place? Does it have anything to do with…” he paused dramatically to look at the audience, "something else? Something special?"
"What sort of "special", do you have in mind, Caesar?" Effie crossed her legs, her eyes twinkled in amusement.
"Oh, you know what it is!" Caesar teased. "Is there a man in Four that fills your heart with joy and soothe your soul?"
"You're fishing for details."
"It's not for me," he gestured at the crowd who cheered. "We can all do with a story of hope and love. There are no more fights and no more conflicts. The country is finding its peace, and I think you have, too. But what about love, Effie? Give us something to root for."
"There is no one in Four."
"Perhaps not," Caesar said but he refused to be disappointed and deterred because the grin was back in place. "Perhaps, because there is someone else from another district, say, Twelve?"
Effie blinked and shifted in her seat.
"Twelve? Oh, Caesar, wherever did you get this idea? I have only been to District Twelve twice since the Rebellion! I have no hope of finding a man in Twelve when I hardly spend any time there."
Not to mention the history and the reputation I have there, she added quietly.
"You might not be spending time in Twelve but word has it that a certain Haymitch Abernathy has made several visits to District Four."
Effie bit her tongue. Caesar was dangerously close to the truth and one rule of publicity that she learnt was to tell them half-truths. The audiences are not stupid and to deny something outright would be insulting to them.
"He has," she offered the audiences a smile. "He comes to visit Annie and her son, to make sure we are all doing well. Haymitch is not the kind to shirk his responsibilities. Katniss and Peeta are his responsibilities, so is Annie, Finn and Johanna. He's a good man."
"What about you?"
"He visits me, too, of course. It is unavoidable when Annie, Johanna and myself are all living together."
"It is interesting to note your description of him as a 'good man'. Tell us about this shift of opinion. You had a very different opinion of him before, if I recall from previous interviews."
"Like you said, it was before. It was years ago, a lifetime ago. Things are different now."
"How different? Is there something between you two?" Caesar pressed.
Effie uncrossed and crossed her legs. Haymitch would never appreciate her discussing about their private life in front of the cameras.
Half-truths, she reminded herself.
"Is there something between us?" Effie echoed. "Well, I don't know about Haymitch. I can't speak for him."
Caesar's eyes widened imperceptibly, as if he knew he was about to strike gold. This was the sort of thing - the kind of gossips - that would increase viewership and whether or not he was her friend, his show was his priority.
"But you can speak for yourself... Surely there is something you can tell us? Come now, Effie, don't let us hold our breaths for long."
"I can speak for myself, yes," Effie nodded and leaned forward. "I have a - I have a crush on Haymitch Abernathy, I am not going to lie."
She left it at that and she could hear the collective gasp of the audience.
"Could this be another star-crossed lover? Is there a story worth telling?"
"Oh, no," Effie shook her head. "No, it's not at all like that."
"How so?"
"Well," Effie smiled as if she was keeping a bigger secret she didn't fully intend to reveal, "for starters, there is nothing keeping us apart. I like him, that is all. I enjoy his company when he visits, which is not as often as Finn or myself would like."
"Except the distance... You in Four and him in Twelve," Caesar pointed out. "That is keeping you apart. I think I can understand why it might be difficult for you to be in Twelve... "
She covered her mouth daintily with her fingers as she laughed, interrupting Caesar before he could delve too deep into that topic. She did not want to discuss her reluctance and apprehension to be in Twelve on national television.
Instead, Effie kept it light, saying, "Oh, he must have fallen out of his chair if he's watching this! I can just picture the utter shock on his face."
When Haymitch called her that night, he didn’t hesitate to address the topic.
"Only a crush, huh? What are you? 10?"
"You watched the interview?" her brows furrowed in surprised. "I didn't think you would bother. You were against me doing it."
"Yeah, 'course I did, sweetheart."
She smiled even though he couldn't see it. "I miss you, Haymitch."
"You're sayin' that 'cause you have a crush on me or what?" he teased.
"Don't be daft. I am saying that because I truly miss you and you know I love you. I do, truly."
"I know," he told her. "You tell me that all the time."
"You don't."
He was quiet. "You know it. You know it and that's enough. Ain't it?"
"Yes, but it would still be nice to hear it sometimes."
Okay, so I changed the quote a little. I hope that’s okay :)




