Their time at the Ball had only lasted for a few hours, but Haymitch was drained from the experience. Although he hadn't been acting like it, the stress of having to go back into the arena had been getting to him, and the thought of having to survive until the bitter end once more was intimidating. Haymitch didn't want to admit it, and he wouldn't have if anyone asked him, but he was scared. Having to endure the Ball, and act correctly in front of sponsors had been pressure that the older man didn't need. Now that it was over, Haymitch was ready to decompress for the night and take a moment to breathe before training started all over again in the morning.

When the elevator arrived, Haymitch stepped into it with Katniss and leaned back against the glass. He had made the trip up and down the building many times over the years, but this was one of the only times that he had been almost completely alone, and with someone he actually liked. “What else do you think?” Haymitch replied, chuckling as he ran a hand through his hair. He couldn't help the way he felt about Katniss, or that strong-willed women happened to be something he gravitated toward, but he also knew that she lacked any kind of experience. Haymitch didn't want Katniss to think that he only wanted her for one thing, and it was the truth; he really did care about her.

As the elevator came to a stop at the top floor, Haymitch stepped out and into the suite behind Katniss. It was completely empty, even void of the Avoxes, who were more than likely assisting with the ball. “You're smart,” he said, pulling off his jacket and tossing it onto the couch, “take a guess.” Next, he worked the cuff links free from his shirt and rolled the sleeves up, already feeling more like himself. He didn't like feeling trapped in his own clothes, even if the designs that year had been much more flattering than times past. He walked over to the sitting area and sat down on the couch where he'd carelessly thrown his coat, eyes still watching Katniss as he waited for her guess.

Last year, after Katniss had won the games and their family were able to move into the Victor's village, Prim had done her best to hide her enthusiasm for it. Living in the new house was bittersweet and Prim had always felt guilty for enjoying her new bed, or the extra food, or anything that the Capitol had given them. Katniss had sacrificed so much, and there were times when the blonde girl wished that she still lived in the Seam. It seemed so backwards to miss the years of struggle, and those nights when they had gone hungry just because of the guilt that came along with new wealth. That was part of the reason that Prim always invited Gale and his family over for dinners—it was a way to give back. Prim just wished that she could have done something more for Katniss before all of this had happened.

“You've helped me in the kitchen before,” Prim reminded Gale with a small smile. She thought back to one of the first meals that she had cooked on her own, and remembered how Gale had helped her cut up the deer meat. He wasn't as much of a disaster as he thought, even if he did think of himself as a bit clumsy. Prim thought it was sweet that he even thought to help her out, which was more than she could say for some of the other men back home. Most of them worked in the mines and left the housework to their wives. Briefly, she wondered what her life would be like with Gale, and if there was such a thing as a perfect world after everything that was going to happen.

Suddenly, the conversation took on a more serious tone and Prim noticed that Gale was starting to ramble a little. It was unlike him, and Prim wondered if he was nervous about something, or if she had done something wrong. The slight frown that had crossed her expression had soon eased away entirely when Gale spoke again, almost reading her mind. She knew that there was family to think about, and while Prim didn't ever want to leave her mom or Katniss, she did want to have something real and permanent with Gale. “I know what you mean,” she said, reaching for his hand. “It might take a while, but I think it will happen.” Considering what was about to happen within the next two weeks, it was a lofty goal, but also something that Prim was willing to hang onto. 

After giving Gale's hand a squeeze, Prim moved scooted closer to him on the bench and moved the plate of desserts out of the way. “I want it to happen,” she clarified, just in case Gale thought otherwise. She loved him, and although she didn't want to say it yet, she hoped that he understood. She leaned in and gave him a kiss, not caring if anyone was around to see them.