Post Mockingjay Story Cuz I Need This

Seal Off

Hi! I'm sorry this chapter is shorter than the last few, but it just felt right to end it there. It's funny to me that I had been updating so late recently, and now that I'm actually writing the chapter I just so happen to update it earlier. I don't know, I just find it ironic.

Alrighty, enjoy and...

May the odds be never in your favor! ;D

Just kidding, I'm not President Snowballs...

~(=^‥^)ノ    ~(=^‥^)ノ

As I walk downstairs two tops of heads show from behind the couch. Peeta's sandy blonde hair is poking out in little tufts after he had been pulling on it with everything he's got. I remember watching him do it in 13, rocking back and forth, veins popping out of his forehead. Katniss's messy hair is coming out from not having brushed in quite a while. She hasn't put it up in her usual braid in a long time either.

Seeing their hair like this makes me sad. It makes me sad to see how much they've changed. How much they've become less like themselves. Only one thing about this scene makes it perfect. Only one thing makes it a beautiful sight for such sore eyes like mine.

Their little heads are resting against each other from behind the couch. I can't see the rest of their bodies but I can tell. I can tell that Peeta is comforting Katniss. I can tell that he has his arms wrapped around her because that is what Peeta would do. That is what Katniss would want him to do. The scene is perfect and so completely ...them .

I love them so much for it.

I have an uneasy feeling as I open my door, like I forgot something. Suddenly-halfway through opening it-two skinny, nimble arms wrap around me.

"Haymitch!"

"Effie?!" she unwraps her arms and tidies herself once more. She poses, putting one hand on her waist and sticking one leg outward in a slightly aggressive manner. I look her up and down that way she knows I noticed.

"You've become bolder since we last met in person. I mean, I don't think I've ever seen you wear anything less than a three inch high heel! Getting rebellious, I like it!" She tightens her lips together.

"And you're still the same old foul ill mannered slob," she responds in a polite posh tone. I can't control the smirk that spreads across my face. "I've called you three times and been here for almost thirty now. Why haven't you been answering?"

"Sorry, Sweetheart." I point to my bandaged ear. "I was dealing with this thing for a while. Wasn't home to answer."

"What happened to your ear?"

"Oh, I got sick of it. So I shot it off," I reply nonchalantly.

"Of course you did." She narrows her eyes at me. "What really happened, Haymitch?"

"I shot it off when my stupid drunk ass hand decided to give me something new on my record. Suicide attempt."

I avoid her gaze for the most part, but eventually meet it only to find her skin has completely paled. Her light teal eyes are widened in shock.

"You-you tried to kill yourself?" The rest of the house is silent and her whisper shatters it like a hammer to a window.

I can only nod dumbly. I look down at the floor, unable to take her reaction any longer.

I'm not prepared for the attack she gives me when she strangles me in a hug. Clinging to my neck with her head in the crook of my neck, she is light. She's not much shorter or smaller than me, and she reminds me of a delicate piece of glass.

An impulse gnaws at my insides. An impulse to treat her gently and with care. Something inside me shakes as I feel the rise and fall of her chest against mine.

This time it's my turn to be shocked into paralysis. My arms are raised, but I can't bring myself to wrap my arms around her. She has stunned me. After a bit longer she pulls away and I find myself with an uncomfortable feeling, like a tug at my chest.

"How are the kids?" she asks.

"Oh, they're fine now. Don't go check on them, they're having a moment of their own." After she nods she turns around and looks at my place.

"God, Haymitch, do you not know how to clean? This place is the equivalent of a dumpster!"

"I've been a little busy of late getting black out drunk and being chased by the ghosts of my past in both the sleeping and waking worlds."

"Well!" she huffs and puts her hand back on her hip. "That is no excuse for not cleaning. I see it as an opportunity!"

"An opportunity?" I roll my eyes teasingly. "To what? Shove all my trauma down with chemicals and fancy decorations? Dust away the past?"

"Exactly! That's what I did and look at me! I'm clean, collected, and the best I can be."

It's comments like these that make me trip. Because even though she doesn't see much in it and doesn't think I do either, it's like pulling back a curtain. Pulling back and seeing a glimpse of a question mark. Still completely foreign and unknown. For years I have wanted to pull back the curtain fully and peel off the mystery to reveal what is underneath.

It's just, to see a Capitolite have other feelings, it's rare.

Or is it that?

Is it truly because she's just a rare case? Is she just an oddity to me?

No...

And yes.

I don't know.

I don't know what she would be to me if she's not.

When I look at Effie I see...a cracked glass. A cracked glass that's glued itself back together but liquid spills out anyway. She's tried to put herself back together. You can tell from the way she checks her posture, the fine clothes she wears, and the makeup she uses to hide her vulnerability.

And there's a part of me, a part that I have pushed deep down, that wants to put her back together, that wants to help her. Not in a curious way, but genuinely help her because I want to.

But there's a reason I pushed it down.

And I'm not gonna let it come back up. Not if I can help it.

Which I can do.

I can do this.

All I have to do is seal myself off like she does.

It wasn't hard before and it won't be now.

Right?

~(=^‥^)ノ  ~(=^‥^)ノ

I don't know, man! Do you guys think he can? As always, I hope you enjoyed that chapter.

Bye bye, peeps!! 😘