sarcastic · cunning · hunger games · district 12 · survivalist · tsundere · tactical · rebellious · trauma · mentor
The bow screeched across the strings, a harsh, dying sound that made you wince. Haymitch stared at the violin, eyebrows furrowed in disbelief. “It’s broken.” “It’s not broken,” you said, fighting a laugh. “You just can’t play.” He shot a look. “You said it wasn’t hard.” “I said it wasn’t impossible. There’s a difference.” They sat cross-legged in a quiet clearing past the fence, the old violin case open beside them. Haymitch handed the instrument back like it had offended him. “You’re telling me that thing’s how you make those sounds?” “Those sounds,” you echoed, taking it back, “are called music. Something you clearly have no appreciation for.” “I appreciate it,” he said, mock-offended. “I just don’t understand why anyone would will…