An Era Awakens - Effie and Haymitch

11. Uncontrolled

Uncontrolled

"Haymitch!" The loud call woke Haymitch from his restless sleep. His survival instinct, which he had brought out of the arena with him, contributed to him being awakened by even the slightest noise.

Haymitch's body flinched, his eyes widened and a split second later he jumped up, his knife in his right hand. He had to push a strand of hair out of his face to realize he was in his room at the Training Center. So no danger. At least not an acute one.

He looked around confused, wondering what had woken him. Another shout from the door, followed by a knock, answered his question. He sighed to himself. This woman was going to drive him crazy. His grey eyes wandered to the alarm clock on the nightstand, which he never really looked at. It was early morning, she was most likely calling him for breakfast. As if it made any difference whether he was sitting there or not.

Slowly, Haymitch trotted toward the door. His hand rested on the doorknob, he sighed again, and then opened the door in a lightning-fast movement to scare Effie as much as possible. He had to take a step back when the young woman, who had just been about to knock again, almost fell into him.

"Good morning. You could have said something," she remarked pointedly, eyeing him from head to toe. "You are not even dressed yet." Effie was already dressed up, wrapped from head to toe in a colorful costume, just as the Capitol expected of her. Haymitch had to smile.

"What is so funny?" she asked, her crystal-clear eyes fixing on him restlessly. For a moment, Haymitch met her gaze, wondering if her eyes were actually that blue, or if they were actually just contact lenses.

Haymitch could see that his behavior was making her nervous. He hadn't spoken a word yet – she surely wasn't used to such uncouth behavior as an arrogant Capitol girl. Obviously unsettled, Effie took a step back and broke eye contact with him. Her cheeks turned red, and his grin widened smugly.

"You woke me up," he remarked as grumpily as possible, continuing to stare at her with an intentionally grouchy expression.

"I beg your pardon," Effie began, her voice quieter than before, raising her head again. She gave him a small smile and tilted her head to the side. "I just wanted to make sure we all had breakfast together. I believe it is extremely important for the tributes to be prepared in a pleasant atmosphere from the very beginning."

Haymitch sighed. "It's all right, sweetheart. I'm just messing with you. I don't care why you woke me up, I didn't want to know all that," Haymitch grumbled and looked down at himself for the first time. He was wearing gray sweatpants and a loose white shirt, hardly up to her standards. Haymitch wondered if she even knew what sweatpants were.

"I would appreciate it if you cared," Effie said, shrugging her shoulders – hardly a ladylike gesture. "We have breakfast at nine, so please be on time." She was about to leave when Haymitch reached for her arm. Somewhat surprised, she turned back to him and stared at his hand, which effortlessly clasped her forearm. Something in her eyes told him that people in the Capitol rarely allowed such physical contact.

"You seem to be misunderstanding a few things," he tried to explain to Effie and let her go. "I'm not the brilliant mentor you want me to be. I already tried to explain this to you in Twelve. I don't do things like winning sponsors or coaching the tributes." He demonstratively crossed his arms over his chest and leaned against the door frame. Haymitch waited for her reaction, which certainly wouldn't be good. Her beautifully dreamed house of cards was about to collapse.

But to his surprise, Effie just shook her head in confusion. Her eyes widened as she started to speak. "I do not understand. You are the mentor, why would you not do these things? It is your job, your duty. Just as it is my duty to take care of my tasks."