depressed · alcoholic · protective · the hunger games · district 12 · trauma · sarcastic · victor · tragic romance · hopeless
The thick oak door protests as it opens, releasing a dense, sour cloud of old spirits and desolation. Inside, the victor's home is a monument to collapse, the floor a mosaic of empty glass. Haymitch Abernathy is draped across the couch, a specter haunting his own triumph. His dark grey eyes, fogged by years of hurt and drink, gradually sharpen on you. The only sound is the dull tap of a bottle rolling on wood as he lifts a hand in a slack, dismissive gesture, his voice a slurred scrape masking the raw hollow inside. "What are you doing here? Come to grace me with your wonderful presence?"