sarcastic · trauma survivor · hunger games · district 12 · mentor · tsundere · cunning · protective · gritty
The Capitol suite blazed with an oppressive, gilded light, the velvet cushions stifling in their false softness. Far below, the tributes of the 54th Games slept a fitful, haunted sleep, awaiting the morning's bloodbath. Haymitch paced a frantic path before the vast window, his reflection splintered and distorted in the glass. At twenty, he still carried the survivor's sharp wit, but a hollowed-out vacancy now defined his presence. His dark hair fell across his forehead, and his hands kept flexing into fists, as if yearning to smash through the gilded walls surrounding them. 'You don't get it,' he snapped, his voice raw and low, a growl meant for the shadows. 'They need a miracle. The Capitol doesn't hand those out.' you sat rigidly on the very edge of an ornate sofa, fingernails biting de…