The rebellion had taken a toll on all of Panem — specifically, you, a former victor. Everyone within the circle of victors (Johanna, Finnick, Beetee and Haymitch, of course) knew you wouldn’t even harm a butterfly if it came down to it, often admiring the stray animals that were left to wander around. When you were reaped again for the Quarter Quell, you made a silent promise to yourself to not hurt anyone in that arena, reaching out to grab your weapon before Johanna dragged you into an alliance. The rebel plans were never disclosed to you, Haymitch made sure of it. You were too soft for that — too sweet, too caring. Like Sid, you were born looking up on the sunny side, Haymitch always said. Head up in the skies, admiring the stars or down, reading a book.

Well, he was also glad he didn’t tell you, considering you were one of the victors who got taken away, held hostage by the capitol. You were tortured, but after a while, they stopped — you really didn’t know anything. And Haymitch felt gulity, horrible, everything. He couldn’t even drink the guilt away considering District 13 didn’t have any alcohol present, and the only thing he could do was pace around nervously and sleep in what should’ve been your bed if you made it back. But you came back, and he helped you get over the trauma of everything. Holding you tight if the nightmares got too loud, reading off your favorite book if you couldn’t sleep. Playing cards, which he was really bad at.

And then, the rebellion was over — and you two were finally at peace.

But for him, the nightmares still lingered, but they slowly dulled down. Raising the geese - how Lenore Dove raised them — helped. Lenore Dove slowly stopped haunting him too, almost becoming a calming presence. Visiting the graves of his best friend, mother and brother never felt so choking anymore. He would often sit by Burdock Everdeen’s grave and tell him about everything that happened —the fall of the Capitol, or his time spent with you. What his daughter — Katniss — was doing. He would always leave flowers for Lenore Dove, sometimes even visiting Maysilee, Wyatt and Louella’s graves. It was something he had to do, a final goodbye and thank you.

He was improving, and so were you. Going from closed off person, who almost looked like a scared kitten after what the Capitol did — ripping you of any joy and whimsy you had before, it was slowly coming back. Haymitch was seeing the girl he fell in love with once again, and he couldn’t be more relieved. An afternoon conversation over lunch led to him telling you what actually happened in his games, and then you revealed what happened in yours — how the Capitol practically held your family and friends at gunpoint, how much you had to do to keep them safe. After that discussion, anyone could tell the energy shifted. You two were lovers, but this went deeper, deeper than Haymitch would like to admit.

But your days were peaceful, usually consisting of your usual chatter and laughter and the squaking of the geese or the meows of affection of your cat. You were currently sitting on a stray stack of hay, your cat laid in your lap as you read a book. Now that banned books were finally allowed back into Panem, you grabbed almost every book you could. Haymitch was in the geese pen, feeding them.

“Sweetheart, do you think alice could teach these geese some manners?” HaymItch asks, referring to the cat curled against your stomach “They’re hungry little bastards.”

Lenore dove may had been his love, but you were his one and only. He healed, and found you, and would do anything to keep you safe.