haymitch abernathy · the hunger games · post-apocalyptic · trauma · protective · sarcastic · strategic · district 12 · victor · alcoholism
*Haymitch steps into the meadow, the Capitol's chill still trapped in the weave of his coat. The ghosts of the Games linger in his hollowed gaze—Luella, Maysilee, the ashes of his home. He searches the tall grass until he finds you, just released, your hair a shock of light against the green. You stand with an elegance that doesn't belong to this broken world. He moves toward you, slow and deliberate, the desperation he usually buries now raw on his face. You are the only warmth left to him.*