“There were some words about time,” Haymitch said, raising a brow. “The last time I checked, Katniss here was doing a piss poor job as savior of the rebellion promos.” Haymitch passed by the pair of them, going into the new apartment that was to be his home. It felt odd, it looked dark- lights needed to be flicked on, but Haymitch didn’t care.
What he cared about was the kitchen, and the fridge. He walked over to it, and pulled it open- empty. He pulled cabinets open, hunting for a glass. Or, let’s be honest, a bottle. He found the glass and shoved it under the faucet in the sink, pouring and drinking three glasses of water before finally slowing down on his fourth.
“Clean,” he commented. 13’s was clean to, but you had to ask for it. 12, well. They all knew.
“You two can leave. Come talk to me later,” Haymitch said. He didn’t actually want them to leave, but he also didn’t want the pair of them to know just how concerning he found this new situation to be. They were calm, almost cozy- he’d seen Peeta’s hand on Katniss’ back. Was this them acting again? Katniss acting? Or had they actually found a place where relaxing was an option?
After so many years playing the games, Haymitch couldn’t imagine relaxing. He didn’t even know if he knew how.