Slowly, Haymitch drummed his fingers against the polished, metal railing. He fixed his eyes on the sky and counted a few stars, surprised to see them when the glow of the Capitol was practically blinding. Had they been anywhere else, Haymitch would have called it a perfect night instead of just a nice one, but he was glad to be there with Katniss. He noticed that she seemed a little off, more down and perturbed than usual and the former Victor could only speculate that it had something to do with the rapidly approaching ball. That sort of event wasn't Katniss's style, and Haymitch remembered how hard it had been to enjoy himself the first time around when he thought that he would soon be dying. Haymitch was really starting to feel guilty about keeping secrets from Katniss, especially when she looked so beaten.

As she complained, Haymitch couldn't help but chuckle. Katniss may have hated everything about the ball, but at least she still had it in her to make fun of it. He paused briefly and looked at her as a thought occurred to him. “You can't dance, can you?” he asked, smirking. Katniss was good at just about everything that had to do with hunting or survival, but her social skills were severely lacking. After all, Haymitch had once compared her personality to a dead slug. “That's why you don't want to go tomorrow,” he continued, laughing again. “Aside from the obvious, I mean. But you don't want to do dance.” 

It made sense. Everyone else in the suite could dance, even Gale and Katniss was going to be the awkward kid in the nice dress standing by the punch bowl with a frown on her face. Haymitch laughed again at the image in his head and pushed himself away from the railing. He was standing upright and continued to look at her. “Stand up,” he said, holding out his hand. He had that same wild look in his eye from when he had taught Prim how to defend herself. Despite his reputation for not wanting to help, it certainly was satisfying most of the time. 

“I'll teach you. Right here.” There was no music, but that hardly mattered to him. The night was perfect for this sort of stupidly sappy thing, and Haymitch rarely had the opportunity to teach someone as stubborn as Katniss something entirely new.

With any luck, there would be a lot of nights to spend together after they were free of the Games. Prim was really counting on Peeta's plan to save everyone, and she wanted to leave the Capitol and move on with her life. She wanted Katniss to be happy, and Haymitch to be less tense, and she wanted so much for Gale and herself. It was slightly selfish in a way, to be worrying about him so much when there were so many bigger things to think of. Gale made her mind slow down, though, and Prim was thankful for the relief that he brought. “I think we'll be able to,” she told him, also looking forward to another night together in the future. 

The painting on the wall wasn't very interesting, and Prim had to agree with Gale. Effie's heart was in the right place, but Prim was certain that all of the suites looked similar, and that no district was special in the eyes of the Capitol. In a way, that knowledge was comforting and Prim was happy to know that no one would have expected anything big from their district. Even with Katniss there, Prim thought that Snow and his officials looked at 12 as if it were still the pathetic and underfed District that it had always been. Prim was determined to stay alive and hide in plain sight until they were able to prove everyone wrong.

Whatever thoughts of rebellion Prim may have had were soon long gone as she found herself pressed between the wall and Gale. Her eyes had fluttered close and the blonde wore a cat-like grin as his lips left hers, speaking now of their limited time. She wanted to tell him that there was no number to put on it, that they had all of the time in the world, but that would have been a lie when the future was so uncertain. “Me either,” she said quietly, as she reached up to wrap her arms around his neck before kissing him again. “When everything is over, we won't have to wonder...”