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He'd meant to surprise her more than he did.
Curse Lenore Dove for being so interested in birds that she was already looking out the window.
"Haymitch!" she squeaks, clapping a hand over her mouth at the sound, though her eyes are lighting up in that way that makes Haymitch's whole body go warm, in a way that makes an absolutely dorky smile spread across his face. And he's about to say something smart, something romantic maybe, really, he is, except Lenore Dove is opening the window all the way and holding her hand out to him, beaming from ear to ear, and truth be told, he hadn't realized that he was scared of heights until he was already this high up on the trellis, so he'd really like to climb off right about now.
So he grabs her hand, lets her take a bit of his weight as he climbs up the last few rungs of the trellis and hoists himself up and over the windowsill in one smooth motion. Unfortunately, right at the last step, the toe of his boot catches on the edge of the window seat just inside, and he ends up half-falling into Lenore Dove's embrace. She has to stumble backwards a few steps to support his weight, but she's laughing, all bright and happy, gazing up at him with such adoration that he finds he can't be all that embarrassed about the whole thing. And oh, god, she's pretty, all done up in her green performance dress, an ivory ribbon tying back her hair, and her lips painted a pretty shade of sunset orange.
(Not that he doesn't love her in anything that she wears, of course, he does, but seeing her in any state of dress or undress never fails to absolutely take his breath away.)
"Sorry, I'm late," he pants, finally managing to get his feet under him so that he can support his own weight again. But she seems not to want to let him go, because she keeps her arms wrapped firmly around his waist, pressing herself up against him with that rare and radiant smile. So he wraps his arms around her shoulders, still grinning like crazy as he nudges his nose with hers. "I didn't miss my chance, did I?"
"Your chance to what?" she teases. "Serenade me at the window?"
"Don't know what that means," he replies absentmindedly, brushing some of her hair to the side and leaning down to press his lips to the freckles on her cheeks.
She giggles again, squirming in his hold. "It's when a fella sits under his lover's window at night and sings to her."
He hums, pulling back for just a moment to raise an eyebrow at her. "You're a way better singer than me. No way I'm gonna be the one doing the serenading." She laughs in reply, musical and so cute that it makes Haymitch want to do something stupid, just to hear it again.
"Well, then why'd you come here?" she asks, lifting herself up onto her toes to try and kiss him.
His grin only widens, his arms tightening even further around her as he dodges her lips and places a flurry of kisses over her nose and cheeks, his heart racing in his chest when her giggling grows louder, her hands shoving playfully at his chest until he finally releases her, moving to lean back against the wall as she hurries to the mirror, her hands smoothing the wrinkles on her green dress that had begun to form from his hold on her.
"I wanted to wish you good luck at your performance tonight," he says. "I wanted to catch you before you got here, but Hattie's work took longer than I thought, so I figured-"
"You'd climb up the side of the Mayor's house to see me?" she cuts in, her voice amused and soft with affection. Haymitch lets out a huff.
"Well, I tried to go in the front door first-"
"Oh, did you?"
"-and then Maysilee answered the door, and she told me that you were upstairs in the 'study,' whatever that is. And I was gonna take my losses and go home, except then I saw this absolutely lovely maiden peering out the window as I was walking home-"
Lenore Dove's cheeks darken in a blush, her eyes flicking downwards from her reflection in the mirror as she lets out a bashful sort of giggle. The sight of her, so adorably shy and flustered because of something he'd said, makes a wave of giddiness rise in Haymitch.
"-so I figured since Maysilee wasn't letting me in, and the party wasn't gonna start for another fifteen minutes or so, that I had time to climb up and see you," he finishes proudly.
Lenore Dove turns to look at him, her cheeks still adorably flushed. She takes a moment just to look him over, her eyes traveling up his form until they meet his again, soft and shy.
"You didn't have to do all this for me," she says finally, though she's clearly trying to suppress a smile. He feels his own face go hot, and he clears his throat, bringing a hand up to rub the back of his neck.
"I just…" He takes a deep breath. "You seemed really nervous, is all. When we talked about it in the meadow."
She blinks in surprise. She considers for a second, her brow furrowing slightly, before she looks up at him again, her eyes strangely misty all of a sudden.
"How did you know that?" she asks, soft and hesitant. "I didn't tell you that."
Well, now he'd done it. He'd gone and made her all upset, right before she was supposed to go out and perform. He swallows, giving a small shrug of his shoulders.
"You, uh… you get this crease between your eyebrows. When you're puzzling out a thought." In a desperate attempt to cheer her up, he steps forward, pressing the tip of his finger against said crease with a crooked grin. "Right there. See?"
The crease smooths out beneath his finger as she gazes up at him with some kind of wonder, her eyes still misty but her lips curling up slightly at the corners in a small smile. He blinks at her, surprised by the sudden change.
"What? Did I do something?"
"No!" she reassures him, her teeth sinking into her lower lip as she tries to suppress that smile. "Just… I always wondered how you knew."
He feels himself frown a little in confusion, his mouth opening to press her further on her meaning, but then she's stepping forward and throwing her arms around him, burying her face into the curve of his neck as she pulls him into a fierce hug. And after a brief moment, he's helpless to do anything else but wrap his arms around her in return, pressing her ever closer and nuzzling his face into her curls with a heavy sigh of contentment.
God, he loves having her close like this. She fits so perfectly against him, and she always smells so nice, like honeysuckle and warm earth. She's so soft, too; her skin, her form, her hair, everything about her. It never ceases to amaze him how such an incandescent and fiery nature, such as hers, could be held in such a beautiful and seemingly delicate frame.
She lets out a small, crestfallen sigh, pulling back slightly to look at him. "The party's gonna start soon…" He groans, pulling her close again and nuzzling back into her hair.
"Can't it wait a little longer?" he grumbles, which makes her giggle, one of her hands coming up to comb through his hair. He feels his lashes flutter at the feeling, and he bites back a low moan as her nails gently scratch across his scalp, her fingers twirling his locks absentmindedly.
"You need to climb back down before Mayor Allister comes up here," she hums, stepping back a little to look at him again with those far-too-pretty doe eyes that always make his knees buckle slightly. She hesitates before releasing his hair to cup his face, her thumb stroking his cheekbone as she gives him a warm, fond smile.
He's about to reluctantly pull away when she suddenly leans forward, tilting her head to whisper into his ear, soft and affectionate.
"Thank you for coming up to see me."
He feels his breath hitch a little, but she's already beginning to pull back, her thumb stroking his cheek again. Before he can think better of it, he tightens his grip, holding her against him. She raises her eyebrows at him, and he feels his whole face burst into flames. His eyes close for a moment as he shakes his head, trying to snap out of whatever strange state she's somehow managed to get him in.
"Um… how about a good-luck kiss, huh?" he asks, trying to sound light but coming off more breathless and needy than he means to. She gives him a playfully reproachful look, but her cheeks are darkening beneath her freckles again.
"If I do, you're just gonna pull me back in again, like you always do," she teases. He shakes his head rapidly, stammering slightly in his rush to reassure her.
"No, I won't! Cross my heart, swear on my life, or on my grave, or whatever-"
She rolls her eyes with amusement, moving her hand to press over his mouth, effectively halting any further ramblings. He feels his breath catch in his throat as he meets her eyes, his own wide and pleading. She gives him a look, her voice firm but still carrying a hint of the smile she's currently fighting back.
"One kiss. No more. Got it?"
He nods eagerly, and she finally laughs, releasing his mouth again to cup his cheek as she rises onto her tiptoes and finally, finally captures his lips with hers, grinning against his mouth when he melts into it with a happy sound.
Her lips have a slightly waxy texture due to the lipstick, but they're as soft as ever, and god, she's such a good kisser. His arms tighten a little around her, but he's careful not to push any further than what she's giving him, more than happy to let her take the lead as she caresses his lips with hers, sweet and chaste and perfect.
She's perfect. Way too good for him, but he loves her. So much that it scares him sometimes.
When she pulls back, he has to fight every instinct not to immediately pull her back in for another, but he manages; if nothing else, he's a man of his word. Their lips part with a soft sound, and even though they've now broken apart, he keeps his eyes closed for just a moment longer, trying to sear into his memory exactly what the kiss had felt like so that he can have something to recall during the agonizing wait before their next kiss.
But after a moment, he realizes that although their lips have parted, Lenore Dove hasn't pulled back yet. He feels his brow furrow in confusion, his eyes fluttering open to find that Lenore Dove seems to be frozen in place somehow, still close enough for their noses to brush. Her hand is completely still against his cheek, her eyes locked onto the curve of his lips, but most surprisingly of all, that crease has appeared between her eyebrows again.
The sight is so confusing that Haymitch just stands there, completely dumb, unsure if he should pull back entirely or not. A few moments pass, but her eyes still haven't left his lips, and she still seems to be puzzling over something. Swallowing hard, he opens his mouth to say something, though what exactly he's going to say, he has no idea.
But before he can make a sound, she leans forward again, sealing her mouth over his. He feels his eyebrows raise in surprise, and he briefly wonders if this counts as him breaking his promise, but then she's pulling back again, her eyes flicking back down to his lips. Her breath catches, and that's when he sees her pupils dilate, her eyes darkening with a barely-restrained lust.
And then, that hand on his cheek is delving into his hair, tightening as she yanks him forward into an absolutely searingkiss.
Haymitch makes a muffled noise of surprise against her lips, but she doesn't seem to notice, because then she's fisting the collar of his shirt with her other hand, shoving him backwards with a hungry sort of noise that makes his head spin as his back collides with the wall. As soon as his lips part in a slight yelp, her tongue is delving between them, lapping and curling and mapping his mouth with all the hunger and aggression of someone trying to stake their claim, and then he's moaning, high-pitched and absolutely pathetic as his whole body seems to give all at once, sagging back against the wall with a broken sound. This only seems to spur Lenore Dove on further, because she breaks the kiss with a breathless noise, her eyes hungrily drinking in his lips again.
"L-Lenore Dove?!" he manages to gasp out, equal parts needy and completely lost as to what's happening, but she's already pressing her lips to the corner of his mouth, then his cheek, and then she's mouthing at his jaw, tugging at his hair and pressing him back against the wall as she moans into his skin, her lips beginning to kiss and suckle at his skin harder and harder, faster and faster, until he's squirming against the wall, his hands twisting into the fabric of her dress as he clings on for dear life. She makes a panicked noise, pulling off of where she'd been latched onto his pulse point with a wet sound.
"No, Haymitch, you're going to wrinkle it!" she gasps out, her hands shoving at his. Too dazed and confused to fight her, he releases her dress, moaning when she kisses him hungrily as a reward.
She pulls back yet again, and Haymitch feels himself stumble forward a little, his lips already frantically seeking out hers again, no longer caring about the promise he'd made to her. But she pushes him back again, her eyes glancing around the room furiously.
"Lenore Dove?" he tries again, and this time it comes out in a whimper. She glances back at him for just a moment before her eyes land on the window seat, widening like she's just found something valuable.
"Okay," she pants, pulling him up off the wall by the front of his shirt, and he's helpless to do anything else but stumble after her, his mind unable to comprehend anything that she's saying as she rambles. "Just keep your hands on the windowsill, and we should be fine-"
He's about to ask her what on earth she means when she suddenly turns to face him again, forcefully maneuvering him until the back of his knees hit the edge of the window seat, and he collapses back against it, barely able to comprehend where he is before she's climbing overtop of him, straddling him, and catching his wrists as he tries to clumsily grab onto her to stay grounded.
"No, no, windowsill, darling-" She whimpers as she maneuvers his hands, pressing them back against the wooden shelf of the windowsill that's currently digging beneath his shoulder blades before releasing them again, her teeth worrying her lower lip as she looks down at him. "Right there, okay?"
"Uh-huh…" is apparently the only thing he can say right now. But luckily, it seems to be exactly what she's looking for, because then she's leaning back down, both her hands delving into his hair as she licks into his panting mouth with a loud moan.
He tries frantically to kiss her back at first, but then she's breaking the kiss, tilting his head back so that she can absolutely devour the skin of his neck, sucking it into her mouth with a loud moan. And all he can do is lie there, completely useless apparently, his hands spasming against the windowsill, the crystal chandelier above them fading in and out of focus as Lenore Dove tortures him in the most delicious way, licking at the shell of his ear, sinking her teeth into every inch of skin that she can get her mouth on, her fingers curling and tugging in his hair as she maneuvers him every which way. At one point, it seems that he moans far too loudly, because one of her hands comes up to clap over his mouth again, effectively muffling any noises he makes as she resumes her torment of him.
And Haymitch lets her do it. More than that, he tilts his head back further, offers himself up to her without a second thought, because he's not always sure why Lenore Dove seems to want him so, but he's more than happy to give her every piece of him that she wants to take, more than happy to lie here and let her eat him alive if that's what she so desires. And maybe she senses this, because after a few moments, she releases his mouth and covers it with hers again, kissing him so hard that he can't even think anymore, can only moan around her tongue as his head slowly loses all thoughts except for that of Lenore Dove, her honeysuckle scent, her soft lips, oh, god, those lips, Lenore Dove, Lenore Dove, Lenore Dove-!
When the knock sounds at the door, Lenore Dove breaks the kiss with a panicked yelping sound. Haymitch tries to strain after her, whining loudly, and Lenore Dove claps a hand over his mouth, shushing him as she whirls around to look at the door. Haymitch lets his head thump back against the windowsill, his eyes glazing over as he lets out a dreamy sigh through his nose, the noise muffled by her palm. God, she's so pretty, why'd she have to stop kissing him-
"G-give me a minute!" she shouts uncertainly over her shoulder. "I need to, uh… r-reapply my lipstick!" There's a brief pause, and then Lenore Dove releases his mouth, leaning back over him as she frantically whispers.
"Okay, I'm gonna go out there, you need to-" She frowns, studying his face for a moment. "Haymitch?"
He just stares up at her, unable to stop the absolutely giddy smile that spreads across his face as he takes in her absolutely stunning face, the slight swollen quality to her lips, the way her lipstick has smeared slightly across her mouth in a messy stain. He can still smell her, too, and she's just so ethereal when she's on top of him like this, and he's being so patient for her, so good for her right now, so why hadn't she kissed him again yet-?
"Haymitch!"
When he comes to, she's patting his cheek as if trying to wake him from something, her voice low and urgent.
"I'm gonna put my lipstick back on, and then you're gonna have to climb back down, okay? And you have to be fast, because if Clerk Carmine finds out you're here, he's gonna be really mad about it. You got that?!"
"I…" He feels his smile fading a little, his face twisting into a frown as his non-functioning mind tries to comprehend what she's saying to him. "…huh?"
She stares at him for another moment before bursting out into giggles, cupping his face and moving to press a kiss between his furrowed eyebrows.
"We'll finish this another time," she murmurs, brushing a lock of his hair that had fallen over his eyes back from his face. "Okay?"
At the promise of a next time, he feels himself relaxing again, his smile returning as he tilts his head back to try and capture her lips again. "Okay… thank you, Lenore Dove-"
"You can thank me later!" she squeaks, scrambling off of him and grabbing onto his hands, trying to pull him up.
By some miracle, despite his dazed and muddled state, he manages to get most of the way down the trellis. About five feet off the ground, he ends up missing a rung, and he lands right in the middle of one of the Mayor's garden beds with a loud oof! sound. By the time he's able to shakily push himself back up to his feet, he's grinning like a dork, stumbling down the darkened streets in a direction that he vaguely hopes is the Hob.
As soon as Burdock and Blair catch sight of him, they both beam at him excitedly, raising their hands in greeting. When Haymitch tries to return the wave, he stumbles, barely able to catch himself on the side of one of the nearby buildings, and then Burdock and Blair are both running up to him, their faces twisted with concern.
"Whoa, easy there, Abernathy!" Burdock says, running to grab onto one of Haymitch's arms. "Did you get drunk without us? C'mon, let's get you-"
As soon as his eyes land on Haymitch's face, he freezes, his eyes going wide. Blair squints slightly, like he's trying to decipher something, and then he bursts out laughing, doubling over when the color drains from Burdock's face and pointing at Haymitch with glee.
"Had yourself some fun there, Abernathy?" Blair teases. Haymitch frowns.
"What do you mean?"
"Haymitch," Burdock says, his voice low and forcefully even. "Were you sucking faces with my cousin right before you came here?!"
"Um…" Haymitch glances between them, the uneasy anxiety that's building finally seeming to be the thing that brings him back to earth somewhat. "…no?"
Blair lets out a loud cackle, leaning against the wall and clutching his stomach as a new fit of laughter starts again. Haymitch scowls at him.
"What?!" he demands, which just makes Blair laugh harder.
"Your face!" Blair howls. "God, look at your face-!"
That's when he remembers the smeared lipstick on Lenore Dove's mouth.
Eyes widening in horror, he rushes over to a mirror at one of the stands. Sure enough, he's absolutely covered in orange lipstick stains, his hair wild and unkempt, and the entire back of his shirt coated in a layer of wet soil. By this point, Burdock has joined in on the laughter, and he and Blair are clinging to each other, both of them desperately trying to keep the other up as laughter absolutely racks their bodies.
"Shut up!" Haymitch snaps, his whole face turning a shade of beet-red as he grabs a handkerchief from his pocket, furiously scrubbing at the stains on his mouth. "It's not like Burdock hasn't come over with a hickey or two before from Asterid-!"
But it's far too late for any kind of pleading of his case. No doubt, he's given Blair and Burdock enough teasing material to last a lifetime with this.
Not that it stops him from ending up in similar positions again, of course.