“Disappointed I’m not dead, sweetheart?”

She could kill him right now, really she could. Or kiss him, but she pushed that possibility away before it could create a highly unfortunate choice. “I wanted nothing of the sort.”

“So you would miss me.” The man was in the hospital on doctor-ordered bedrest and paler than she’d ever seen him. How could he still manage to be so infuriating? Or, more importantly, how had she become such a terrible person that she wanted to throttle a man who’d had a heart attack not twenty-four hours prior?

Apparently. “I was just worried about what it would do to Katniss and Peeta, with a baby on the way and all.”

Haymitch gave her that little smirk-smile that she always wanted to wipe off his face with her fist. “Just admit it, sweetheart. We both know you love me.”

“You almost died seventeen hours ago. You have no right to be this infuriating again already.” She had picked her new manicure to pieces worrying about him on the train ride over here. He could have at least bothered to say hello when she walked in the door. But no, she couldn’t expect a little bit of dignity or manners when it came to Haymitch Abernathy, could she?

He could have died. She knew that, of course, she’d worried about it the entire way here, but only now, sitting in Twelve’s antiseptic white hospital with him did she realize just what that would have meant. Each and every one of Effie’s organs seemed to flip themselves upside down at the thought. She had to force herself to keep breathing. Neither Peeta and Katniss nor the hospital staff would want to deal with a case of hysterics.

“Still here, Trinket?”

Belatedly, she realized that she’d missed whatever he’d said. “Of course. I didn’t come all the way out here for nothing.”

“I was just saying that I always thought it’d be my liver that got me.” In that moment, Haymitch looked so much older than she’d ever seen him. Defeated.

“That does seem like a reasonable assumption.” Come on, Haymitch, you’ve still got some fight left in you. Don’t leave me all alone here.

“Yeah.” He paused for a  moment, and for once, she didn’t feel any need to fill the silence between them with insults. “Y’know, almost dying’s made me think a lot.”

About what? “Well, that’s quite a change.”

One edge of his mouth quirked up at that. “I’ve been thinking how I’ve been all alone for so damn long, and how that ain’t gonna end if I don’t change something.”

You always have me. She didn’t say anything, though, just reached out and patted his hand. “You’re tired, Haymitch, and you need rest. We can talk more when you’re feeling better.”

“That suggests that there will be a time that I feel better.”

There had to be some serious pain meds in his system right now; he’d never remember the kiss she pressed to his forehead as she pushed him down further into his bed. At least, that’s what she told herself. “I’ll come see you tomorrow. We’ll see how you feel then.” Effie lowered the lights and smiled at him one last time as she left the room, closing the door behind her. No matter what the man said, he really did need his rest.

His words were muffled by the door, but she could still make them out clearly. “Told you you loved me.”


Chris had a pretty good idea why Peter was here, even if he was still one hundred percent surprised that the wolf would come to him for anything. They hadn’t exactly left off on good terms back when they were younger. He continued to smirk as he closed the door, efficiently locking them inside together.

“Last I checked, you liked my grin. And if you’re here about Malia, then you’re right. I am one of the only people in town qualified enough to help you. And the only one who cares enough to do it.” He honestly shouldn’t care what Peter did with his life anymore, they had burned that bridge between them a long time ago but something ached inside of him; something that had been missing since Allison’s death; meaning. Helping Peter gave him meaning again. “You want parental advice and you came to the one person you know that used to have a teen age daughter. What exactly didn’t you want advice on?”

Peter knew it was possibly a sore spot for Chris after having lost Allison. After having lost everyone. But Peter didn’t know where else to turn. He had no memories of the woman who gave birth to Malia or even the fact that he had a daughter. It was all an out of the blue surprise to him, and he wasn’t exactly sure how to deal with it.

Peter rolled his eyes, crossing his arms over his chest. Chris wasn’t entirely wrong about the grin though. “I think you’re enjoying this far too much honestly.” But the fact that Chris even said he cared enough to help Peter made him suddenly remember things he had long since tried to forget. He quietly sucked in a breath. “Yes. You are in fact the only person I know who had any children. And as far as I can remember dealing with a teenager isn’t the easiest thing in the world to do either. So…any advice I suppose.”

blackvelvetbones asked:

ghost, colors, trouble

Ghost: Do you like bad boys?

Celia gave a small laugh at the question, shifting slightly as she considered her answer. “I mean… Who doesn’t?” She questioned after a moment. “Those wicked smirks, and the way that they’re just so damn intriguing and irresistable. Right? But– hey. They’re only fun for a little while. There’s really no point in liking them when there’s something about them that hates permanence and everything. There’s no ‘Oh, I’ll be the one that changes him’. Nah, you’re kidding yourself if you believe in that.”

Colors: Have you dyed you hair before?

“Do highlights count?” She asked. “Because if they do, then– Yeah. If they don’t… Well. Then, the answer is no.”

Trouble: Is there someone you love?

“My mum.” The answer comes without hesitation as the words tumble from her lips. “I love my mom. No question about it.”