Thin Flesh (Haymitch Abernathy X OC)

Sliced

🎶 Welcome Home by Radical Face🎶

"All my nightmares escape my head. Bar the door, please, don't let them in."

I had fallen asleep on the chair, waking up to a dark, empty train car and a monstrous headache.

I push myself up off the chair, noticing my third half finished champagne bottle shattered below me. The remaining liquid had created a puddle on the floor.

I stumble slightly as the train is still moving and frankly, it was hard to see in the dark.

I make my way through the next few cars, coming across the first bedroom I could find.

Still ever so slightly inebriated, I strip to my under garments, stumble to what I can sort of make out as a bed and plop onto another body.

I scream and jolt up, but not before feeling a slight cut puncture the skin just between my ribs.

I shook violently as I cupped my hands over the slice, the bedside lamp flickering on.

Haymitch stared at me confused before widening his eyes. Not because I was in a chest wrap and shorts, but because I was bleeding.

"What the hell is wrong with you?!" I yell, walking backwards and away from him.

"Come on, kid, you can't just sneak up on a person like that!" He yells back, dropping the bloodied knife onto the nightstand.

He clears his throat before walking into an attached bathroom, retrieving some first aid supplies and a bathrobe.

"Sit down." He suggests, pointing to the bed.

I hold my hands in front of me, staring at the blood, before reluctantly making my way to the down comforter.

I sit silently, looking away from Haymitch while he examines the slice.

"Not too deep." He nutters quietly, his breath still smelling of whiskey.

He takes some alcohol onto a cotton ball before dabbing my wound.

"Holy sh-!" I shout, pulling away from him slightly.

He grabs firmly onto my shoulder to hold me in place before taping a thick patch of gauze to the cut.

"Here." He says quietly, throwing the robe at me.

"What kind of psycho just cuts people in their damn sleep?" I ask, still fuming.

"I- you know what? What kind of psycho comes into another persons room in the middle of the night?!" He gets defensive.

"You sleep with a knife." I state as a matter of factly.

"Yeah, well, I've learned the hard way that I can't trust anyone, or trust what could happen to me, alright?"

I pull the robe over my body and stand slowly.

We stare at each other for a moment, and in this moment I can see the strain in his eyes. He's tired, he's drunk and most of all, he's damaged.

"So, those stories were true?" I ask, blushing ever so slightly for provoking him and giving him any sort of grief about his trauma.

"I'll walk you to your room." He says, looking away from me and already heading for the door.

The walk through the dark train car was eerily quiet. We finally arrive at what would be my room, but before Haymitch could walk away from me, I grabbed his arm gently.

"Haymitch, I'm sorry." I say softly.

"You shouldn't drink anymore." He says before tugging his arm from me and making his way back into his room.