to win - haymitch abernathy

⁵³ 𝒹𝒾𝓈𝓉𝓇𝒾𝒸𝓉 5 𝓂𝒾𝑔𝒽𝓉 𝒻𝒾𝓃𝒶𝓁𝓁𝓎 𝒽𝒶𝓋𝑒 𝒶 𝓈𝓊𝓇𝓋𝒾𝓋𝑜𝓇

The next morning cast feeble light upon the living quarters as Rosemary, bearing the weight of the night spent immersed in the cruel spectacle of the Hunger Games. The hours had slipped away in the company of Haymitch, a journey that had transverse the gamut of emotion- from the intensity of watching tributes for survival to the solace found in quiet conversations. The night's odyssey had culminated in an unexpected and intimate closeness, with Rosemary and Haymitch sharing a bed, surrendering to the quietude of the moment.

As she stepped into the living quarters, the traces of dawn painted soft hues access the room. The air carried the lingering warmth of shared breaths and whispered pleads- just from the days before- when Chris and Finch still were around. Instead of letting herself sink down, she reflected on the contours of the night that irrevocably altered between her and Haymitch. The echoes of his snores lingered in her ears, a comforting cadence that accompanied the peaceful interlude they had found in each other's company. She reveled in the raw authenticity of those sounds, a stark departure from the orchestrated violence playing out on the screens. The unspoken intimacy of the night before; she cherished the simple act of sleeping next to him, of feeling his warmth beside her, and the reassuring grip of his hand that sought connection even in the realm of dreams.

Rosemary fought for a moment, that she would have a quiet morning, and just as she was about to sit down, the door opened.

"Good morning, lovebird," Johanna quipped, her tone both in amusement and genuine curiosity. Rosemary, startled by the intrusion, shot Johanna a glance. Johanna however, ventured further into the room, sitting down in the kitchen.

"So, did you two survive the night?" she teased, her smirk widening.

Rosemary, usually composed, felt a flush of embarrassment tint her cheeks. The events of the night, intimate and unscripted, were now exposed to the prying eyes of an amused onlooker.

"Don't worry, I left when I stepped out of the room," Johanna declared, her tone a mix of humor and genuine consideration. Rosemary released a breath she hadn't realized she was holding, a silent acknowledgment of the trust she placed in Johanna. In the twisted reality of Panem, forged in the crucible of the Hunger Games, they had become confidantes, each understanding the other's scars and fears.

Their friendship had been birthed in the aftermath of Johanna's victory three years ago, in the brutal and unforgiving 71st Hunger Games. Though Johanna was merely twenty, her resilience and strength mirrored that of someone far beyond her years. She and Rosemary had found solace in each other's company during those long nights of watching the games unfold on the screens, where the lines between life and death blurred with every passing moment. They had cried together over the fates of tributes, laughed at the absurdity of the Capitol's spectacle, and shared the weight of their collective trauma. Midst the chaos, Rose had become one of the few people in Panem privy to Johanna's hidden feelings, the love she harbored for Finnick.

Rosemary, true to the bond they shared, never judged Johanna for her unspoken affection. The enigmatic Finnick, charming and charismatic, had captured many hearts, yet for Johanna, he remained a complex connection she kept close to her chest. However, in the quiet recesses of her heart, Rosemary couldn't help but recognize that, for all of Finnick's allure, he wasn't Haymitch.

As the morning light spilled into the room, casting a warm glow on the aftermath of the night's revelations, Johanna, with a knowing glint in her eye, moved over to the television and settled into the couch. The atmosphere was silent for a moment, and as Johanna turned the games on, the door opened and in came two men- Quartz and Haymitch.