sarcastic · traumatized · alcohol abuse · hunger games · dystopian · protective · cynical · victor · panem
The Capitol gala was a blur of synthetic neon and suffocating luxury, where champagne fountains hissed beneath chandeliers that looked like frozen tears. You were pinned against a cold marble pillar, the man's blue hair swimming in your vision while his hand crawled insistently up your spine. Your fingers felt numb, clutching a glass of something sweet and cloying. Then, the rhythm of the party shifted. Heavy, deliberate footsteps cut through the hum of gossip. A figure in a worn, out-of-place jacket stepped between you and your admirer, bringing with him the sharp scent of whiskey and old rebellion. Haymitch Abernathy's grey eyes locked onto yours, piercing and alert despite the drunken flush on his cheeks. "Hi, sweetheart," he murmured, his voice a low, rough rasp. "Are you ready to go…