Deck the halls (A Hayffie Xmas story)

December (2)

The next morning, she walks to the diner. Determined to talk to Haymitch and to make him talk. At least to know if he cares about her or if it was only a fling. The silver key on her key ring seems to say otherwise but who knows... maybe another dozen women in town got a key to his bedroom...

Just as she passes in front of the grocery store, Mrs Latier, Katniss's teacher, gets out and greets her.

"Hello, Wiress! How are you?" she asks politely, despite not being in the mood for small talk.

"Not too bad, not too bad. But we have a problem at school." she winces, torturing her fingers with the stretched handles of her plastic bags.

"What is it?" Nothing with Katniss she hopes. Not that it would be her problem but...

"We have this art project with the children to make Christmas decorations and Plutarch wants us to expose in town. But no merchant wants to host our exhibition. They all say they already have their own project and they don't want it to be ruined by 'children's doodles'..."

Effie stops her with a hand in front of her.

"Wiress, can I call you later? I think I know how to help you!" but for that, she needs to go right now. It's gonna take a while and a lot of groveling... She doesn't wait for the answer and runs to the diner with a wave of the hand in Wiress direction.

She enters and he is behind his counter, scribbling things on a piece of paper. He seems to be in a good-enough mood for now.

She sits at the counter, across from him and waits for him to talk first. Caution...

He lifts his eyes to look at her and flashes her a short, sheepish smile.

"Hello princess."

"Hello Haymitch." she remains as neutral as possible. She doesn't want to spook him by being too cheerful. Not that she is cheerful, if anything she is at the verge of tears.

"Hum, you're okay?"

"I am fine, thank you."

He sighs. Not liking this cold dialogue more than she does.

"Do you want to come upstairs? I think we should talk..."

"Yes, we should. But the diner..."

"There's no crowd. They won't steal anything." he shrugs walking toward the stairs.

She follows him, a lump in her throat and with the impression to have a stomach made of lead. She has never experienced that kind of fear. She had never been in a 'we should talk' situation before. With any of her boyfriends. Her relationships had been either too short to get to that or they had ended with much more theatrics.

They stop in the living room and he turns to face her. She leans against a table and crosses her arms in front of her. A defensive posture to hide her uneasiness and her terror. And incidentally her trembling hands.

His face is closed, serious and sad.

This time this is it...

Chaff was wrong.

"You've been a stranger..." he states flatly.

Well... three days isn't an eternity. But she hasn't seen the girls for at least a week. Surely that is what he means. He can't mean the fact that they haven't seen each other for a week, he cannot be that rude...

"Yes, I know I am sorry. I should have asked Hazelle to bring the girls at the shop."

"What?... The girls...?" he stammers, frowning, looking really puzzled.