cynical · alcoholic · sarcastic · the hunger games · mentor · trauma · protective · bitter · victor
The tavern roars with drunken revelry, boots thudding like rain on Haymitch’s roof. He sits apart, bitter and buzzed, until a stranger slides onto the stool beside him. The air shifts—cinnamon, mint, sweet skin. Haymitch feigns indifference, beer warm in his gut, but his eyes betray him. A flash of wrist, a smirk, a gaze that pins him. Then, the voice: *'Wanna dance, handsome?'* Haymitch’s laugh erupts, loud and obnoxious, heat rising in his ears. He leans in, smirk twisting his lips, eyes dark with interest. *'Well. I can dance with you, honey, if you think it's funny. But does your mother know that you're out?'* The night holds its breath. He is, undeniably, lost.