to win - haymitch abernathy

⁴⁰ 𝒾𝒻 𝑜𝓃𝓁𝓎 𝓎𝑜𝓊 𝓀𝓃𝑒𝓌

The night had been a tornado of emotions for Rosemary, a night filled with unexpected twists and turns. It was almost surreal to think about how close they had come to kissing. The memory of that near-miss played like a vivid movie in her mind, with each replay sending her heart into a frenzied dance and her cheeks flushed with excitement and embarrassment. The electricity in the air had crackled with anticipation, and the tension between them had been so thick you could practically cut it with a knife.

As she lay in her bed, her thoughts embarked on a roller coaster ride, driven by the tumultuous emotions that had surged through her the previous night. A part of her felt a sense of relief that they hadn't actually kissed. It was a relief born out of the knowledge that such an act would have irrevocably altered the course of their lives, and she wasn't entirely sure if she was ready to embrace that level of change. But there was another part of her, an adventurous and curious part, that couldn't help but wonder. She found herself daydreaming about what it would have been like if their lips had indeed met. The soft, tender touch of his mouth on hers, the warmth of his embrace, and the undeniable chemistry that would have ignited into a fiery passion.

Rosemary hadn't always been the cautious type, the one who meticulously weighed the consequences of her actions before taking a leap of faith. But over time, she had learned that diving headfirst into the unknown often yielded mixed results at best. Yet, on that unforgettable night, she had felt something stir within her. She had come to realize that life, with all its unpredictability and impermanence, was sometimes too short to constantly play it safe. She had spent too long building walls around her heart, guarding it against potential pain, and in doing so, she had forgotten what it meant to truly let someone in. Porter, her husband and Billy were an entire different story. She had let them inside her heart, but not in the same way as she would do with someone she desired.

Despite all her twisting and turning in her bed, her mind refused to let go of the previous night's events. The way their eyes had locked, the tantalizing brush of his hand against her cheek, and the magnetic pull that had drawn them together—all of it remained etched in her memory like an indelible mark.

As she padded down the stairs to the kitchen, she could hear the soft clinking of dishes and the faint aroma of coffee brewing. Haymitch was already there, standing by the counter with his back turned, seemingly engrossed in preparing breakfast. Rosemary hesitated for a moment, then cleared her throat to announce her presence.

"Good morning," she greeted, her voice carrying a hint of uncertainty.

He turned to face her, his eyes crinkling at the corners as a warm, genuine smile lit up his features. "Morning," he replied, his voice warm and welcoming. "Did you sleep well?"

Rosemary's lips curved into a faint smile, though her words betrayed her true feelings. "Yeah, I did," she replied with a slight stretch of the truth, a small smile playing on her lips. The unspoken weight of the events from the night before lingered in the air, a palpable tension that neither of them could ignore. It was as if an invisible thread had been pulled taut between them, binding them in a shared moment of uncertainty and curiosity.They exchanged one awkward glance, both unsure of how to broach the topic.

"I've made you some tea," Haymitch said, placing her favorite mug on the kitchen table. Rose wondered if he knew it was her favorite, but she threw the thought away as fast as it appeared in her mind.

"Thank you," she offered in gratitude, though it was more than just a polite acknowledgment. It was a recognition of the careful consideration he had shown in this simple act, a testament to their shared connection that transcended spoken language.