Work Text:
Effie’s trip had been nothing short of eventful. She had only planned to be in Ireland for a short time before Leap Day, propose to her boyfriend, and go back home to her new life as a fiancée.
Now, she was stuck in a pub with a handsome stranger she couldn’t stand, waiting for a train she wasn’t quite sure would come.
The floor was sticky with remnants of spilled beer. Strangers around them bickered far too loudly for her taste. She could barely hear what Haymitch was asking her over the sound of music playing from the old jukebox.
“Effie?” Haymitch asked, waving a calloused hand in front of her to gain her attention.
“I’m sorry, it’s quite loud in here. What were you saying?” Effie said, taking a sip from the bitter beer he had ordered for her.
“Picture this: your beautiful home is on fire. You have 60 seconds to grab whatever you want, but no more than those 60 seconds. What are you grabbing?”
“Well, I’d make sure my boyfriend was safe first,” she shifted uncomfortably in the leather seat, “And then a change of clothes, I guess.”
“How kind of you.” he said, and there was a bit of sarcasm hidden somewhere in his words.
She rolled her eyes, “What about you?”
“My cat.”
“You have a cat?” she couldn’t help but chuckle in disbelief, “Really?”
“Yeah. Whiskey,”
His sentence was interrupted by Effie almost choking on her beer, “You have a cat named Whiskey?” she said smiling.
“I do.” He couldn’t hold back his own smile now, “I got him after my fiancée left.”
His sudden honesty caught her off-guard, “Oh. I’m sorry, Haymitch.”
“Don’t be. I’m more upset about her taking my Ma’s ring with her really.” he avoided her gaze now and instead stared at the peanut shells scattered over the bar top.
“Well, can’t you get it back?”
“She ran off to Dublin, actually, with my best friend. Don’t know if I can bear to see them again, to be honest.”
The silence that followed was brief, but heavy. It was broken only by the sound of Haymitch’s hoarse voice asking another question.
“Why are you proposing to your boyfriend?”
“What?”
“I mean, why fly all the way here? Why not wait until he does it?”
“I’ve been waiting,” she traced the rim of her glass now, nervous in a way but not letting it show, “just tired of doing so. Plus, I think it would be fun.”
“Fun to fly to a foreign country, get down on one knee and propose to a man that’s kept you waiting?”
“It's fun to change things up. Why shouldn’t a woman propose?”
“Didn’t think you were the type, Trinket.”
“I suppose I didn't think I was either.” she finished off her beer and signaled down to the bartender for a fresh glass.
“So, did you play any sports? You look like a rugby guy.”
“Soccer, actually. I was never good at rugby.”
“Oh! I just had a vision of you in a little soccer uniform!” Effie laughed, the effects of one too many glasses of beer becoming more apparent.
“I think you’ve had enough of this for today,” Haymitch said as he took away her half-full glass.
She stared at the clock on the bar wall, “Hey, what time did you say the train would get here?”
“Four, why?”
Any trace of drunkenness had now left her body, “It’s 4:15, Haymitch!”
“Oh, shit.”
She grabbed her bag, almost spilling its contents in the process, while Haymitch left a crumpled euro note on the counter.
She was already out the door by the time he had turned around, running at the highest speed the muddy terrain would allow her. The train station was only a two-minute walk away from the pub but by the time she reached it, the train had been gone for five.
He reached her, out of breath, and spoke “Check if there’s another train coming.”
“There isn’t. It’s the weekend, the next one won’t come till Monday.” she said, falling defeated onto the bench, still damp from the rain.
“There’s a bed & breakfast a few blocks from here. If we leave now, we can make it before the rain starts up again.”
She looked at him and stood up without another word.
The rain had caught up to them, leaving Effie’s curls slightly flat and Haymitch’s sweater half soaked. The bell at the door rang when she pushed it open.
“You poor things!” said the older woman by the door.
“Any chance you have a room open?” Haymitch asked.
“You’re lucky, just a while ago I had two backpackers wanting a room. But they weren’t married.”
Haymitch and Effie looked at each other.
Married.
The woman wouldn’t let them stay if they weren’t married.
Effie looked at the door, ready to bolt and find another place to stay, but Haymitch grabbed her wrist before she could go.
“They admitted right out, no shame at all! I sent them packing,” the woman continued shamelessly, “Right is right. So, it’s Mr and Mrs…?”
“Trinket.”
“Abernathy.”
“Abernathy-Trinket,” Effie clarified.
“We haven’t been married for long; it’s quite a mouthful.” Haymitch added in an attempt to ease the awkwardness, “We’re praying to one day have a son and heir to keep the name going.”
Effie looked at him incredulously, “Seriously?” she mouthed. He only shrugged in response, fully committed to the role he was playing.
The woman laughed sweetly, clearly endeared by the young couple standing before her.
“It’s Effie and Haymitch, to you.” Effie said, pulling Haymitch into a side hug with a charming smile for the woman.
“Lovely! Let’s get you settled.” the woman said, disappearing into the living room.
“Thank you.” Effie said.
“After you, princess.” Haymitch said.
“Thank you, sunshine.”
“Would you like a hand with the bag, cupcake?”
Effie shot him a warning look over her shoulder.
The bed was smaller than they had imagined. Big enough to fit two people, sure, but not big enough so they could sleep without touching each other.
They both stared at it like it owed them something.
“Well, you’re not sleeping in that bed with me, Mr. Abernathy-Trinket.” Effie declared matter-of-factly.
“Maybe you’re not sleeping in that bed with me.” Haymitch smirked.
“What a gentleman you are.”
“Welcome to the age of equality,” he said, jumping on the bed, “You'll have to live with it.”
“We’ll flip a coin for it,” she said, rummaging around her bag for a loose one, “Darling.”
“Alright,” he said, getting up with a groan, “Heads, I win. Tails, you lose.”
Effie flicked the coin with her thumb, sending it flipping in the air. “Heads,” she declared, defeated and refusing to meet his gaze.
“Shame,” he said once again jumping onto the bed, "You can sleep in the bathtub.”
She scoffed and made her way to the plastic curtain. Upon pulling it back, she was met with the smallest shower she had ever seen.
“It’s not a tub. It’s a shower.”
“Then you can sleep in the shower.” he said with a smug look.
“Fine,” she said, pridefully stepping in the shower, “just as long as I don’t have to sleep anywhere near you.”
She pulled the curtain back and began to undress, her silhouette visible through the blue hue of the plastic.
“I’m using up all of the hot water, by the way!” she yelled from the shower.
Haymitch only smirked to himself.
“You deceitful son of a bitch!” Effie said, stepping out of the shower in only a towel, leaving wet footprints all over the floor, “Get up!”
“What?” Haymitch said as he was pulled from his sleep.
“Heads you win, tails I lose? What do you take me for?” She narrowed her eyes at him with a scoff.
“Finally caught on to that, did you?” he said with a smirk as he stood up.
“This is my bed! Liars forfeit,” she said, looking up at him. Their faces were mere inches from each other now, “And take a shower. You smell like a wet dog.”
He shook his head, “You can see right through that curtain, you know.”
“No, you can’t.” she stared at him, not believing a word he was saying. He only smirked down at her.
“Can you?” she said, taking a step forward like she might lunge at him.
“Okay, liars forfeit,” he said, running towards the bathroom, “No peeking.”
He winked at her and shut the curtain before she could fight it.
Effie opened the bedroom door to find the old woman smiling at her. “How are you two settling in?”
“We’re settling in just fine, right darling?”
“Never better!” Haymitch yelled from the shower.
“Great, we’re having tripe for dinner. Nothing like a cow's stomach on a rainy day!” the old woman said, chipperly.
Effie’s own stomach churned, “You hear that darling? We’re having tripe!” she said with a forced smile.
“Right. I was thinking, you know, we’re so grateful you took us in on such short notice. Why don’t you let me cook as a thank you?” he offered.
“Oh, I couldn’t,” the old woman said.
“Oh but you could,” she said, without missing a beat, “he’s a chef. A great one at that.”
“It’s true!” he yelled again.
“Really? Well, that’s great! Thanks a bunch!” the woman said, leaving the room smiley as ever.
Effie let her shoulders relax, “Good call.”
She noticed Haymitch brushing his teeth, a towel wrapped around his middle. She stared for a beat too long before grabbing her bag and heading towards the door, running into it in the process.
“Fuck.” she muttered under her breath and left the room.
Night had fallen and the meal Haymitch and Effie had prepared turned out to be perfect for a rainy day. The lamp’s warm glow and candles illuminated the dining room, where they sat with the old woman and her husband, and another couple of travelers.
“Dinner was excellent!” the male traveler said.
“Oh yes, and the chicken was just delightful!” his wife added.
“Wasn’t it?” Effie said as she dabbed the corners of her mouth, “and I’m usually awful at making it. Seneca says it’s always too dry.” Her boyfriend’s name slipped out of her mouth before she could process who she was saying it to.
“Seneca?” the woman said, confused.
“Oh, I… Seneca is…” Effie fumbled through her sentence, not knowing what could fix her mistake.
“Seneca’s our next-door neighbor,” Haymitch said, saving her from embarrassment.
“Yes! He sometimes comes over for dinner,” she added awkwardly, “Right, Haymitch?”
“Yeah, lonely old soul he is,” he leaned towards the travelers, “has a little bit of a thing for her.”
Effie bit down her smile as the rest of the table giggled.
“So,” Haymitch said, switching the topic of conversation, “that’s an antique you got there sir?” he said, pointing at the teapot in the old man’s hands.
“Only as antique as me. It was a wedding present.”
“It’s only been 45 years,” the old woman said, playfully hitting him over the head, “you cheeky man!”
The old man replied by cupping her face and planting a kiss on her lips.
“Cheers to that.” Haymitch said, clinking his glass to Effie’s and the rest of the table.
“That’s what it takes to be married that long. A kiss like that.” the traveler said knowingly, “My advice? Always kiss her like it’s the first and last time.”
The traveler turned to his wife and kissed her like no one was watching. Or, in Effie’s opinion, like two hormone-riddled teenagers at prom. The rest of the guests shifted uncomfortably in their chairs.
“Alright, alright.” the old man said, breaking up the couple, “Come on son, it’s your turn now.”
Haymitch shot him a confused look, “I’m sorry, my turn to do what?”
“Well, I’ve kissed my wife. He certainly kissed his wife,” he said, a light fit of laughter ringing throughout the table, “Show us how it’s done!”
“Oh no, we’re quite alright,” Effie’s cheeks began to feel warm, “We did it earlier. Kiss, I mean.”
“Yup. Done and dusted.” said Haymitch as he took a sip from his drink to hide his face.
“Come on,” the old man insisted.
Without missing a beat, Haymitch put his arm around Effie and planted a kiss on her cheek.
“That was perfect, honey.” Effie said, hoping it was enough to get them off their backs.
The old man was unsatisfied, “You call that a kiss boy?”
“If that was a kiss I’m surprised you’re still married to him!” added his wife.
“Oh, they’re just shy.” the other man said, brushing them off.
“Yes. That’s it. Shy.” Effie said nervously.
Haymitch looked at her with a dumbfounded expression. He couldn’t believe how bad she was at playing things off.
“No need to be shy! You’re among friends. You’re young and in love! Anyone can see that.”
Haymitch and Effie didn’t dare to look at each other now.
The old man slammed his hands on the table, “Kiss the girl!”
Effie thought of what to say to make them calm down, but before she knew it, Haymitch had grabbed her head and started kissing her softly.
She sat there, eyes open for a mere moment before she cupped his face with her hands and melted into it. One of his hands made its way to her curls, now frizzy and dry, while the other rested on her cheek. She deepened the kiss, forgetting she was sitting in front of four strangers. Forgetting that the man she was kissing was not her boyfriend, but yet another stranger. It was the most exhilarating kiss she had had in a while, she thought.
To both of their surprises, Haymitch pulled away first. She chased his lips before realizing she wasn’t supposed to be kissing him in the first place. His hands moved slowly downwards towards her neck, before leaving her all at once. They held each other's gaze, not daring to break the connection just yet. Their trance was only broken by the thunderous applause of the other couples.
“Now that’s a kiss!” said the old man.
“There you go.” Haymitch said with an awkward, yet pleased smile.
Effie tried her best to suppress her own.
The travelling couple had insisted on helping with dishes, thus Haymitch and Effie made their way upstairs to prepare for bed.
Effie was taking off her jewelry when Haymitch pulled back the curtain, sending her jumping to the bed to cover her satin nightgown.
“It’s a bit wet in there,” he said, nodding towards the shower. She only stared at him up and down.
“Show me a little mercy,” he intertwined his fingers in a begging motion, “Please?”
When she wouldn’t let up, he flashed her a ridiculously boxy smile that seemed almost painful.
The corners of her mouth couldn’t help but curl up, “Well alright, but one snore and you’re going back to the shower,” she said, moving over to the other side of the bed.
“Deal.” he said, jumping harshly onto the bed and making it creak loudly.
They stared at the ceiling now, scared of making any movement.
“Who would’ve thought it’d take this long to get to Dublin?” Effie breathed.
“I’m gonna have to charge you an overnight fee, you know.”
“Not surprised.”
“Running total is 675 euros.”
Effie scoffed, “Fine. If this is all about money to you, then 675 it is.” she turned over to face the wall.
Haymitch stared at her back, not entirely understanding why she was upset.
“Goodnight.” Effie whispered.
“Night.” he replied, flipping over to turn off the lamp and lay away from her.
Neither of them could sleep. They stared at the ceiling, both aware of the other one being awake, but not saying a word.
They turned to look at each other, holding eye contact for a few seconds before turning back to their respective sides; back to pretending the other wasn’t making them feel things they shouldn’t.
The cuckoo clock on the wall annoyingly announced the morning. Haymitch slowly awoke, the noise of the wooden bird living in the clock ringing in his ears.
His hand laid on Effie’s arm. He’d somehow managed to spoon her in his sleep.
He stared at her, the light seeping through the lace curtains and pouring onto her freckled skin. She looked peaceful as she slept, like an angel on earth.
He peeled off his hand slowly, careful not to wake her. His stomach felt strange, like a million butterflies had gone loose. He ignored the strange feeling and rolled out of bed.
Haymitch was brushing his teeth when he heard her stirring awake.
"Morning, sleepyhead.” he said, spitting out his toothpaste.
“Morning.” Effie said, stifling a yawn. Her curls had become unruly in her sleep, forming a halo of frizz over her head.
“How’d you sleep?” he said as he leaned on the wall, his shirt riding up and revealing part of his stomach. He pretended not to notice how Effie stared.
“Quite alright, surprisingly.” she smiled.
He chuckled dryly, “Great. Breakfast?”
“Thought you’d never ask.” she smiled coyly, standing up and letting the quilt drop to the floor, no longer worried about covering her nightgown with it.