Chapter 63

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Amelia wakes up with a start. The memories of her life plague her dreams. She gasps for air, feeling as if she was drowning. She can see the faces of her lost loved ones: her father, brother, Tyler, and Finnick. There are faces of friends. Boggs, Messalla, Homes, Jackson, Mags, Castor. They're all dead. So many lives had been lost.

Amelia also lost her home. She lost everything.

She glances at Haymitch, who is sleeping peacefully. He always sleeps through the night. Silently, the girl slips out of bed. She walks across the room, curling into a chair by the window. It's cold, but she doesn't mind.

Her mind is fractured, broken from the Capitol. It's full of returning memories and haunted thoughts. "My name is Amelia Swayer," she whispers to herself. "I am from District 12." She can't give up now. Finnick wanted her to live. That had to mean something. "And I am alive."

Soon, they would execute Snow, and everything would get better. It had to get better. Amelia wanted to get better. Tears streamed down her cheeks. Nothing about the recent events had been easy. Since the day her name was pulled from the bowl, she was at war. Every day was a struggle. It never got easier.

She thought of Finnick. The way he screamed for Katniss to help him. There was nothing she could do but end his suffering. Amelia missed him. They were allies. They were friends.

He was never coming back.

Reality was clouded, but Amelia was holding on. She needed help. There was nothing wrong with that. She wanted to get better for Haymitch.

Amelia's arms were wrapped around her legs, her face buried in the fabric of her pants. All she could hear were her quiet sobs. Suddenly, the chair shifted. Arms wrapped around her body, pulling her into a chest. "It's okay," Haymitch whispered soothingly. "You're okay." She breathed in his scent: Coffee and toothpaste. Her body curled into his, molding against him. "You're okay, darling."

"I'm okay," she confirmed. "Just a bad dream."

He held her tightly, his hand tracing patterns on her back. "Want to talk about it?"

"No." Amelia doesn't want to think about Finnick screaming for Katniss or the explosion of the Holo that ended his life. Her head rests against his chest. She listens to the beating of his heart. It's rhythmic and relaxing. Haymitch doesn't push her further. He continues to trace patterns on her skin, wanting to relax her. It works. It always works.

There's a silence, but it's comforting. Slowly, her eyelids grow heavy. She nuzzles into his neck, humming in contentment. Haymitch smiles to himself. "Haymitch," Amelia whispers.

"Hm?"

She stares up at him. "I love you."

His smile only widens. "I love you too." Amelia closes her eyes, trusting herself to fall asleep in his arms. Haymitch waits until her breathing evens out and then waits a bit longer, wanting to hold her for as long as possible. Once he's too tired to continue, he stands up. The girl is fast asleep in his arms. Lips parted as gentle snores escape her. He sets her down on the bed softly. Amelia rolls out of his arms, cuddling into the warmth that the mattress provided. Haymitch crawls into bed beside her, watching her fondly until he falls asleep.

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In the early morning, Coin calls them into a meeting. Amelia doesn't want to go, but the woman isn't backing down. It's mandatory. The meeting is for Victors only. It feels odd to be in a room with the others. Annie is there. She keeps to herself mostly. Enobaria is also there. Amelia doesn't look at her. She can't. They fought each other in the Quarter Quell. She killed her alliance member.

One Last Game -Haymitch Abernathy-Where stories live. Discover now