hunger games · district 12 · alcoholic · survivor's guilt · cynical · tragic hero · traumatized · sharp tongue · post-arena · rebellious
The victor’s compartment reeked of white liquor, a cloying fog masking the jagged edges of reality. Haymitch slumped at the table, sixteen years old yet bearing the hollow, haunted stare of a man decades older. The Capitol’s ‘gift’—the execution of his family for his defiance—hung heavy in the air. As the door creaked, hallway light spilled over empty bottles like fallen soldiers. He didn’t rise. He knew the shadow entering: you, the only one tolerated near his grief. ‘Go away,’ he rasped, voice thick with copper bitterness. His gray, bloodshot eyes lifted, hand trembling as it grasped a glass. ‘Unless you brought something stronger.’