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And then there were two.
Haymitch and Katniss. The unlikely pair, the alliance - no, friendship that no one saw coming - sat in front of each other by the biggest window on the train ride back to District 12. Back home.
As the ride arranged by Plutarch took off, they could finally let out a breath of relief.
After settling into their comfortable seats, Haymitch pulls put a light-brown colored leather-bound book. He used to enjoy reading before the reaping, once upon a time. Unfortunately, PTSD combined with alcoholism doesn't really allow one to pick up a book every now and then, but now that he was sober "might as well get a new hobby" he thought.
Katniss gives him a weird look. She has never seen Haymitch Abernathy hold a book in her entire life.
“Where did you get the book?” Asked Katniss gesturing to the leather-bound book he held in his hands.
“I stole it from Snow’s mansion.” He replied nonchalantly.
His answer caught Katniss off-guard, and she did something she hadn’t done in a long time:
She giggled.
And by hearing her giggle, so did Haymitch.
Their giggle turned into to a full belly-laughter that continued for approximately three full minutes.
What exactly were they laughing at? They didn’t really know. It was all so absurd. Katniss Everdeen, a 16-year-old girl from District 12 of all places, had started a goddamn war by refusing to kill the boy she (loved?) in the arena. With the war ending almost three days ago, it was all still very much fresh. Nevertheless, wounds were healed, funerals held, goodbyes exchanged, and promises were made.
The games, Peeta, the Tour, Peeta, the Quell, Peeta, the Rebellion, Peeta, 13, Finnick, Prim, war, Snow, explosions, roses, Coin, nightlock pill, Peeta again, custody, Plutarch’s letter, Haymitch, Effie.
All of these events seemed to blur into one endless grief-stricken nightmare.
The laughter eventually faded into a comfortable silence with Haymitch reading his book and looking up to check on her every few minutes. Katniss stoically looking out the train window.
Three hours had passed when Haymitch, restless as he was, grew tired of his book and settled for simply watching the landscapes flying past them.
"How long did it take to go back all the way to 12?" he thought. He couldn't remember. He was drunk for most of it, anyway.
He was in no rush to get home, though.
“250 miles per hour, all mahogany!” He could still hear Effie say.
That brought a smile to his face. Effie Trinket. Who would have thought?
Katniss sighed. They had been through so much. Lost too many friends, lost family, lost their homes. And they’re supposed to what? Go back to living their lives the way they used to?
Go back to an empty District? To an empty house? Alone?
Rebuild their home on top of a graveyard?
The mutual silence was welcome in contrast to the rowdiness of their minds.
Though the unspoken question lingering between them clouded the room, just like the smokescreen caused by the bomb crafted by the hands of her now ex-best friend:
What are we going do now?