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Katniss shows up at breakfast looking like the cat who’s ate the canary.
She sits down next to Peeta at the table and grins, “I saw a girl leaving Haymitch’s room this morning. Maybe that means he’ll be in a better mood today.”
Effie’s fork clatters to the table, and Peeta and Katniss both look over to her.
“Sorry Effie.” Katniss smiles somewhat sheepishly, “I know that’s probably not proper breakfast conversation.”
“Did you see who it was? Johanna, maybe?” Peeta asks, the scene of her stripping down in the elevator in front of the three of them no doubt replaying in his head. He chances a glance at Effie who is attacking the small pastry on her plate with a steak knife and the intensity of a Career Tribute.
“No, I didn’t get a look at thier face but definitely not Johanna. This woman had much lighter hair, reddish blonde maybe?”
“Some of us,” Effie’s voice is shrill, “are simply still trying to enjoy our breakfast.”
It’s then that Haymitch enters, “C’mon kid, use your brain. We all know Johanna plays for the other team anyways.”
He takes his place at table next to Effie and she pours him a cup of coffee from the glass carafe after topping off her own. Katniss looks oddly lost in thought, like she’s still wrapping her head around Haymitch’s Johanna comment.
Cinna and Portia breeze through shortly after,
with only enough time to grab something on their way out, off to prep everything for the interviews that loom at the end of the week.
The four of them talk strategy for a bit until Effie looks at the overly ornate clock on the wall and stands up, pushing her chair away from the table with a loud squeak, “All three of you, be ready to head out in one hour, no later!”
Haymitch leers as she walks by, “Maybe you can find that mystery lady for me again while you’re up.”
Effie scoffs, swatting him on the shoulder as she passes, and then it’s silent except for the sharp click of her heels receding back to her room across the stone floors.
Haymitch glances over at the other side of the table and sees Peeta who looks like he might just finally be putting two and two together.
He hasn’t really concerned himself much with subtlety these days, mostly on account of them all probably being dead soon if Plutarch’s mad plan didn’t work out. It’s an added bonus to see the kids squirm.
But when Peeta speaks, it’s not at all what Haymitch expects.
“You shouldn’t be so rude to Effie.”
“Excuse me?”
Peeta’s voice gets quieter, “I mean think she likes you, Haymitch. She seemed kinda upset when Katniss said there was someone coming out of your room this morning.”
Haymitch barks out a laugh, which earns him a glare not only from Peeta, but Katniss as well.
These fuckin’ kids.
He trains his gaze on Katniss, “What were you doing out in the hallway at that hour anyways, sweetheart?”
Katniss flushes a light shade of pink, but manages sputter out, “Nightmare.”
—— —— ——
Effie’s just finishing the final touch ups on her makeup when she hears a rapid pattern of four knocks on her door that means it’s Haymitch. Before she can even say anything he’s sauntering in and closing the door behind him like he owns the place.
And on top of that, he’s got a smirk on his face that Effie just knows will be a problem.
“Peeta thinks ya’ got a crush on me.”
Effie huffs over-dramatically as she applies a final coat of lipstick, “How embarrassing.”
“But no objection?” He snakes have an arm around her waist and drops his head so his lips are tickling her ear, “So what I’m hearing is that you do got a crush on me.”
“You are-“
She doesn’t get to finish because in one fluid motion Haymitch turns her around lifts her so she’s sitting on the edge of her vanity.
He can barely keep his tone even anymore as he continues, voice on the verge of laughter, “He said you seemed pretty upset to hear Katniss saw someone was coming out of my room this morning.”
“Of course I was upset she saw someone, that someone was me!”
“I told ya you shoulda stayed in bed a little longer.” His fingers play with the ornate embroidery on the neckline of her dress before starting to dip lower.
“You’re incorrigible. And don’t start, we are going to be late.” She hisses, but her mouth eagerly find his anyways.
“The thing is, I don’t really give a shit about that, princess.” she can feel his smile against her lips as his hand roughly pushes aside the layers upon layers of tulle that make up her underskirt, singular in focus, “And I think, in this particular situation, you don’t either.”
She moves to push his shoulders down, but he’s one step ahead of her and has already dropped to his knees. So instead she reaches down and threads her hand through the hair at the nape of his neck, tugging to lift his head up to look at her, “Now make it quick.”
A wolfish grin spreads across his face, “Now is that any way to talk to your crush?”