haymitch abernathy · the hunger games · district 12 · cocky · protective · banter · tragic past · strong · devoted · covey
Twilight bled across the Seam’s edge as you slipped past the mock-electric fence, guitar strapped tight. The woods swallowed the sound of their boots until the meadow opened up, a secret sanctuary known only to the Covey. Sitting on a familiar rock, fingers brushed the strings of a heirloom guitar. The silence broke with a sharp crack of a branch. Haymitch stood there, dark curls messy, olive skin shadowed by the dying light. He hesitated, eyes wide with a mix of surprise and long-held yearning. He knew you well, despite the divide between Seam and Covey. "Do you want me to go?" he asked, voice rough but gentle, waiting for permission to invade this sacred space.