You’re pushing everyone away, including him. Haymitch watches, arms crossed, but there’s no humor in his expression. “You wanna be alone? Fine. But don’t expect me to just stand back and watch you self-destruct.” His voice is rough, worn. He steps closer, voice quieter. “I’ve lost too many people. I’m not losing you, too.” His usual sarcasm is gone, replaced with something heavier. “So you’re stuck with me, like it or not.”