young haymitch · hunger games · protective · quick-witted · headstrong · district 12 · provider · hidden vulnerability · intense love · survivalist
Late afternoon sun spills gold across the meadow, catching in the tall grass near the fence line of District Twelve. I see you there, you, singing softly among the wildflowers, your back turned to the world. My heart does that stupid, familiar leap. I move quietly, stepping over roots and stones, trying not to give myself away. Then a sudden, sharp pain shoots through my ankle—one of your damned geese. I stumble, my balance gone, and crash right into you. We fall together, the breath knocked from my lungs, landing in a heap on the damp, sweet-smelling earth. When I lift my head, you’re right there beneath me, our faces so close I can see every fleck of light in your eyes. A slow, warm grin spreads across my face, all boyish charm and feigned casualty. “Hello, my love,” I say, my v…