The year before, Haymitch had been completely serious when he said that Katniss had the personality of a dead slug. It wasn't until she had won the Games with Peeta, and he'd had to help get her through the Victory tour did he start to change his mind. His policy was always distance, he never got to know any of the tributes from 12 because he knew that he would never get to bring any of them home to their families, and he would remain alone in the Victor's village. Katniss had changed that in the blink of an eye, and suddenly, Haymitch was forced to know her. She was someone that couldn't be ignored, whether it was through her good deeds around the district, or her bad attitude, Haymitch constantly found himself confronted with Katniss Everdeen. At first it had annoyed him, but now, it brought him some semblance of peace and he had changed his mind about her, too—less dead slug, more grumpy cat. 

Somewhere in the last year, their relationship had changed. Katniss had gone from a faceless tribute, to the symbol of rebellion, to a reluctant friend, and now Haymitch was in love with her. It was terribly out of character for him to have even made friends with her, but she was so important and those feelings he had were hard to ignore when she was so close, and clearly needed something from him. Haymitch had never been one to be there for people, but Katniss had lost so much and he didn't want to be yet another person who had disappeared on her. Even though they were going back into the games, even though seven days was a long time, Haymitch was determined to stay alive and be what Katniss needed.

“I know I don't,” he chuckled, knowing that Katniss was serious and that she would protect him. When it came to his own life, Haymitch didn't think there was much to worry about, and he was more concerned about protecting her, and the rest of the alliance. After nearly dying in his last games, Haymitch knew what he could handle and there was very little that scared him about the competition.

As she leaned against him, Haymitch couldn't help but wonder where the line was between them. A few days before, he thought he knew, and he thought Katniss had made the decision, but she was always surprising him. He didn't want to allow himself to think that she could feel the same way, that she could love him back when he was such a fuck up and had ruined himself with alcohol. It didn't matter that he was finally sober, because that had been for Katniss too and if he hadn't bothered to take Peeta's place in the Games, he would still be drunk and trying to forget the past. Subconsciously, he held her closer, although he hated that whatever their friendship had turned into made him feel slightly ashamed, as if he were taking advantage of a vulnerable situation. 

“They already miss me drinking all the liquor,” he laughed, shaking his head at his own self-deprecating joke. “We'll all be back to make twelve the same as it's always been—poor and just a little boring.” He looked down at her then, fingers still twining in and out of her soft, dark hair. “But maybe you should go to bed...take advantage of that late start tomorrow.” Haymitch didn't make her move, though, and he didn't let go of her. Their lips were impossibly close again and he wanted to lean forward and close the gap. But that line was thick and shining, and although it was begging to be crossed, Haymitch couldn't make himself do that to Katniss.

It was hard to worry about the future when it couldn't be controlled, and even harder to think about the possible collapse of a plan when Gale seemed to have all of the answers. He had always been such a stark contrast to Katniss, optimistic and hungry for a brighter future while Katniss accepted what the Capitol did and had no interest in changing anything. Briefly, Prim wondered if her sister still felt the same way, if she was only it because she was forced to be, and if she would have preferred to sit idly by and focus on the problems in 12 instead of Panem as a whole. Prim wanted to change things, and Peeta's plan made that a little more possible.

Rebellion, as close as it was, could wait and Prim didn't want to think about it anymore that night. There were good things happening, progress that was being made and a short day of training to look forward to the next day, Prim knew she didn't need to worry so much. As Gale shifted around, Prim was distracted from her own thoughts by the feeling of his hands on hers. She had gotten used to it over the last few days, and the fluttering of her heart in her chest remained consistent every time he reached for her. She smiled softly and tilted her head as she listened to him speak. She didn't quite understand at first, and furrowed her brow as she waited for him to finish, but Gale had leaned in and his lips were pressed against hers in the softest, most gentle way. It felt like a dream, something she had imagined over and over on those days when it was just them out in the wilds, or those quiet times when he had walked her home after the Games had been shown that night, when they were both missing Katniss. Prim never thought that it would happen though.

When he pulled away, Prim's was blushing, smiling and beside herself as she looked into his eyes. Love was different, always presenting itself at the worst time, but the moment felt like it had lasted forever and could go on for just as long. “That's all I want,” she said softly, still smiling. Her fingers found their way between his and Prim moved closer, sitting on her knees before leaning in to kiss him. It was the same tender embrace of the lips that he had given her, and Prim hoped that he could tell how she felt, how much he meant to her and how he always would.

“Just you,” she whispered after pulling away.