#he might even say it out loud if certain muses remain reluctant to show side of that to him eventually.

[ellanainthetardis]

Prompt : what if effie had a tattoo somewhere? haymitch has seen it plenty of times but never realized it was about/for him.

Here it is! [X]

The Tattoo Mystery

Sleep was evading him.

His body was exhausted but his mind wouldn’t turn off. He kept mentally reviewing the attack plans for Four over and over again. They had been working on it for forty-eight hours now and it consummated Haymitch’s every thought. It beat thinking about anything else anyway.

Peeta and his high-jacked memories…

The demons he couldn’t quite ignore without a bottle…

“You are thinking far too loud.” Effie complained, burrowing a little against his chest, probably seeking his warmth.

She had developed a habit of using him as a portative heater system. She stole his clothes, borrowed his woolen sweatshirt in the middle of the day and never handed it back, only sighed in contentment at night once he was draped over her like an additional blanket…

Although to be fair, they were naked and sweaty.

And the blankets were scratchy – as she hadn’t failed to grumble about.

“It’s to compensate for you thinking so little.” he shot back a beat too late, running his fingers from her shoulder down her arm.

They were on their sides with his back to the edge of the mattress and the emptiness separating them from the floor while her knees were brushing against the wall. Why those bunk beds had to be so small, he couldn’t figure out.  And it wasn’t even because they didn’t have a family compartment. He had seen the beds in the Everdeens’ room and they weren’t any bigger.

He would have enjoyed some freedom of movement. He liked sleeping on his stomach better. Or on his back. His side wasn’t really a favorite position of his. Spooning Effie had its perks but he liked it better when she snuggled against him instead.

There was no really getting comfortable in those beds.

“I do not know how I can still marvel at your insensitivity.” she huffed. “What a thing to say to a woman whose bed you are sharing…”

“You dragged me to your bed, remember?” he snorted. “Come have dinner, Haymitch. Look at me sucking on that coffee spoon full of yoghurt, Haymitch. Walk me back to my room, Haymitch… Real subtle, you were.”

He could almost hear her roll her eyes.  “I am fairly sure I did not make any remark about the yoghurt. In fact, if I had made a remark, it is more likely I would have told you about how vile that thing they call yoghurt is.”

“I hate to break it to you, sweetheart, but I know your spoon number by now.” he mocked. She had perfected it over chocolate cake. There wasn’t anything she couldn’t turn into a sexy display when she wanted to.

“Fine.” she sighed. “I might have tricked you into actually getting into bed with me. It certainly wasn’t to think.”

“Pretty sure you made that clear.” he chuckled. The yoghurt show had given him  a good preview of what she had had in store and he hadn’t been disappointed. Then again, he never was.

She refused to be distracted though. “How long had it been since you slept?”

“Too long.” he admitted. He nuzzled her nape because it was right there. “Can’t shut off my brain.”

“I did a very good job of shutting off your brain.” she retorted. “You had to go and make it work again. You can be so annoying sometimes.”

Her tone was entirely teasing and he smirked, pressing an open mouth kiss against her neck, letting his tongue poke at her skin. She tasted a little salty and he kind of wanted more. His hand ended up on her belly, his thumb running distracted circles…

“Cause you’re a walk in the park, yeah?” he taunted right back.

“I am indeed, thank you.” she grinned. His hand drifted south and easily found her leg… “I do not have any trouble shutting off my brain…”

“You don’t say.” he chuckled, wedging his hand between her thighs.  

“You are nowhere near ready for a second round and I am tired, Haymitch.” she stated more plainly.

“By the time I get you through round two, I’d be up for round three.” he tried even though nothing was less certain. Since he had stopped drinking… They had given him meds that he regularly forgot to take because the side effects were actually worse than the shakes and the headaches. Like the fact he didn’t seem to be able to get it up for very long and not exactly at the firmness he was used to. He wasn’t sure he would be able to get hard again that night.

Still, if he wasn’t going to sleep…

“As tempting as the offer is…” she insisted, squeezing her thighs together so his hand was momentarily trapped before giving him back his freedom by shifting a little. It gaven him better access but he could take a hint and be a grown man about it.

“Fine…” he surrendered. He didn’t move his hand away though. He drew silly patterns on her skin, just because he was bored and he liked touching her, until he felt the familiar rougher patch under his fingertips. He smirked against her skin again as he retraced the shape of the tattooed butterfly on her inner thigh from memory alone. Perspectives made it look as if the blue butterfly was about to take flight from the flower it was on. He wasn’t a fan of tattoos or physical alterations but this one he had long reconciled with. She had had it for as long as he could remember, a secret next to her most private parts. “You never told me how you ended up with a butterfly next to your…”

“Language.” she muttered before he could finish. “Try to sleep. It is late and, no doubt, that thing around your wrist will beep and summon you back to Command any minute now.”

“Come on.” he whined without shame. “There must be a story there… How old were you when you got it?”

He had known her pretty young. She had been twenty-two when she had started as his escort although she had been twenty-five by the time they had started sleeping together and twenty-seven by the time they had bothered to properly remove clothes. After that… Well… After that he had become really familiar with that butterfly.

“Sixteen.” she sighed. “Tattoos were all the rage. My friends all wanted one, I went with them and once there… Let’s just say peer pressure is a terrible thing.”

He couldn’t see Effie Trinket being coerced into anything she didn’t want. Sixteen or not.

“Why a butterfly?” he asked.

It suited her though. Butterflies… They were good animals for her. Beautiful, delicate and yet a symbol of rebirth… Of hope. Of death – but that one he didn’t want to linger on.

She shifted awkwardly. “We should really sleep.”

His fingers danced on her skin, teasing.

“Got a boyfriend who was into butterflies?” he taunted with blatant amusement. “Thought you were going to keep him forever and it would be really romantic to have a symbol of undying love on your skin?”

She let out an annoyed sigh. “Something like that.”

She sounded a bit brisk and he couldn’t help his chuckles. “Good thing you didn’t get his name down there. Awkward for other guys.” She remained resolutely silent. He bumped her with his hips. “You have to tell now, Princess. Who was the guy? Some jerk, yeah?”

“He is certainly a jerk.” she snapped.

“Is?” he repeated, something dangerous now stirring in his chest. “You still see him around?” He tightened his hold on her and it didn’t escape her notice. Of course, it didn’t. She knew better than to call him out on his show of jealousy but she still grinned with satisfaction. Haymitch really wasn’t satisfied. “He’s that important to you?”

“Oh, I think at this point we can safely ascertain he is the love of my life.” she answer casually, as if they were still discussing Thirteen’s yoghurt. “I was twelve when I fell in love with him, thirteen when I swore I was done with him and sixteen when I fell in love again… Then, of course, I properly met him at twenty-two and decided I wanted nothing to do with him anymore because he can be so irritatingly rude… I was twenty-five when we slept together for the first time and I had to wait to be thirty-five for him to merely hint at having some semblance of feelings for me that weren’t linked to his penis. So, you see, it has been a long and eventful story.”

Haymitch wasn’t dense.

He could take a hint.

“I’m confused.” he frowned.

“Isn’t that role reversal refreshing?” she mused, moving his hand from her leg to her waist and forcing him to hold her tight. “Sleep now.”

He curled up a little around her, hooking his leg over hers when she folded the other one between her chest and the wall to roll a little more on her stomach. He ended up propped against her back but he didn’t mind. There was actually more space for him that way.

“But I don’t get it.” he protested against her nape. “So you had a crush on me when you were a kid…” That was more or less public knowledge. “What has that got to do with your tattoo?”

“It is embarrassing.” she grumbled. “Won’t you drop it?”

“No chance in hell.” he scoffed. “You know you’re gonna tell me or I’m gonna find out anyway…”

She sighed. “If you make fun of me, I am kicking you out of bed. Let this be very clear.”

“Fine.” he accepted without thinking twice about it. Her chances of succeeding in kicking him out of bed were equal to him dropping that line of enquiries.

Again, she let out a sigh. The reluctance was obvious in her voice. “When I was sixteen I met you in a club once. I tried to seduce you and you were not at all receptive. You were drunk, I believe.”

That would have made him twenty-one. He tried to remember but… “Got no memories of this…”

And why would he? Capitols had been flinging themselves at his head since his victory. He wouldn’t have made the difference between her and another one. Faces blurred, all the more so with the make-up altering their features so much. And Effie… Chances were he would have dismissed her outright as soon as he would have realized how young she actually was. He had been despicable, still was to some extent, but not to the point of taking advantage of younger girls. That had been the Capitol’s ploy, not his.

“I did not expect you to.” she confirmed. “Nevertheless… You were not… You were quite charming actually. Some idiot was bothering me, dancing too close, not taking no for an answer… You told him to leave me alone. It was quite the dashing rescue.”

He frowned, trying harder to recall… “You’re sure it was me?”

“You were with some other victors.” she said and although she was careful not to mention anyone by name, he supposed she meant Chaff. And, given the timeframe, probably Alina and Seeder. Maybe Beetee if they had managed to drag him to a club… Thinking about his friends… It made his heart clench. He hadn’t had time to properly grieve for them yet. He hadn’t had time to… Effie squeezed his hand. “You would not dance with me. Or have anything to do with me really. You called me a baby. I was quite vexed.”

“I bet.” he snorted. He didn’t have much on her in years. Five years was a nice difference in his opinion. Now. At twenty-one, five years younger would have been unthinkable.

“You were not mean about it though. You were more amused, I think.” she hummed. “To me, it was all very lovely and romantic… You said… Well… You said I made you think of a butterfly with my blue dress.”

He was sure she was blushing.

For his part, he contemplated that and snorted. “Yeah, I was probably wasted.”

“It meant the world to me.” she admitted, not sounding very proud of herself for it. “Anyway, when my friends dragged me to the tattoo parlor and time came to choose a design…” She shrugged. “I almost had it removed a few times when I decided you were more trouble than you were worth but I never could go through with it in the end. I like it. And I like the memory.”

It was almost beyond his understanding how she could treasure a random night he couldn’t even remember that much.

But…

“So the tattoo on your inner thigh is meant for me.” he smirked.

“That is all you would take out of this.” she sighed as if he was being insufferable.

“It’s on your inner thigh.” he snorted. “It’s so close to your…”

“I fancied myself in love with you.” she snapped. “And my mother would murder me if she knew about this. Obviously it is alright to have your breasts remove but get a tattoo?” She shook her head. “Where else did you want me to put it?”

“Ain’t complaining.” he denied. “Like it just fine where it is.” He tightened his hold on her waist a  little. “I like that it’s mine.”  

She hesitated for a second before breathing out. “Everything I have is yours. Haven’t you understood that yet?”

It was saying something without saying it.

Haymitch wasn’t sure he was ready for that Pandora box to open. He liked how things were right then. Easy despite the hell they were in. Being with her was a breath of fresh air in that place. They were less careful about hiding it, true, but he wasn’t sure he was ready for everyone to know either.

As for actually discussing his feelings… What was the point when they were so obvious? He had put her on his list, had made it very clear to everyone of importance in Thirteen she was under his protection and that he would get very, very difficult if anything happened to her…

“Maybe I should get a tattoo of my own.” he mocked. “Could get a clown painted on my ass… Oh… What about a parrot, sweetheart?”

“Horrid man.” she huffed but he suspected she knew he was only trying to lighten the mood. “I should have my name tattooed on your forehead. Perhaps that would keep those women away from you.” He rolled his eyes at that, more amused than annoyed by her repeated claims that some of the female refugees were very interested in him. He couldn’t see it. He didn’t even care to see it. She was the only woman he tended to notice. “Can we sleep now?”

“Yeah.” he surrendered at last. At least he could let her sleep while he tried to stop thinking about Four and the rebellion. Not that he was thinking about that now. No. Thanks to her, he was thinking about what she meant to him and why it had taken so long for him to admit it to himself and where they would go – could go – from there. It was at least fifteen minutes before he came to a conclusion on that front. “Sweetheart?” A sleepy hum was all he got in answer. “You don’t need to brand me with your name, you know? I’m kind of yours anyway…”

He was pretty sure she was asleep.

Mostly asleep.

He pretended he didn’t hear the three words she mumbled in her pillow.

Those words were too scary still.

#hayffie #effie trinket #haymitch abernathy #prompt #mj time #movie!verse #d13 #teapot #fluff #pre games #about e past #angsting h #haymitch with feelings #established #cuddles