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Effie carefully wrapped the white bandage around his hand, shaking her head as she worked. He kept his eyes down, watching the glistening white change to a deep red. She used a clip to hold the bandage in place and then reached up, pushing his hair off his head.
“How are you feeling?” she said.
He wasn’t sure if she meant the pain in his hand from the window he had just shattered or the last twinges of his hangover. Either way, it didn’t matter. He didn’t deserve her. He never had. But once again Haymitch couldn’t find the words to say that.
“Oh, you know,” he said instead. “Just waiting for two more kids to die.”
Effie was quiet for a moment, her hand still holding his even though the bandage was already perfect.
“What are you going to do if she wins?” Effie asked softly.
“What do you mean?” he mumbled, but he knew exactly what she meant. But hope was dangerous. And being a rebel more so. And letting someone else into his heart the worst.
Effie dropped her hand, found his fingers, squeezed.
“We’ll figure it out together,” she said.
All he could do was nod.