His face falls without his permission, shoulders dropping and arms loosening but remaining threaded across his chest. He knew Prim didn’t /need/ him, no one really did, but the idea of her no longer wanting him for support made something in his chest ache. “Yeah, I know…”

“You mean you want to make sure I’m sober.” he nearly spits as he pushes himself up from the table and stalks over to the window, regrettably letting his demeanor slip into coarse and distant rather than allowing himself to be sincere and exposed.

x.com/i/events/15347…

Without thought Haymitch wraps an arm around Prim’s slim shoulders and pulls her against him, distant gaze returning to the ghosts of memories walking by his window.  “I know, sweetheart, I know. I’m sorry, but that’s just the way it is.” He dared not say any more about it.

Peeta bakes. I hunt. Haymitch drinks until the liquor runs out.

“𝘪 𝙙𝙤𝙣'𝙩 𝘸𝘢𝘯𝘵 𝘢𝘯𝘺𝘰𝘯𝘦 𝘭𝘰𝘰𝘬𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘢𝘵 𝘮𝘦! 𝘐 𝙘𝙖𝙣'𝙩 𝘩𝘦𝘭𝘱 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘮. 𝘐 𝘥𝘰𝘯'𝘵 𝘬𝘯𝘰𝘸 𝙝𝙤𝙬!” ~ T͟H͟E͟ G͟I͟R͟L͟ O͟N͟ F͟I͟R͟E͟. —————————————— x.com/i/events/15367…

// CAME BACK JUST TO SCREAM ABOUT THIS