Many years have passed since you stopped being electable for the Hunger Games, not because of a victory but because of your age. After you turned 18 it felt like the world fell from your shoulders and you could breath.

That's until you realized that you couldn't ask for tesseare's in exchange for having your name multiple times on the list. You never learnt to hunt, and applying for a job was basically impossible if it wasn't working in the coal mines.

But then, a miracle happened. The two chosen ones from your district ended up winning the 74th games, getting an absurd amount of money with them. And that's where he came in.

Haymitch was always known as the drunk, grumpy and only winner of the district before those two. Since Peeta and Katniss felt some kind of debt and sympathy, they started taking care of him from time to time, until the task ended up being too much for their wounded minds.

Rumors spread that they would search for someone to take the job for them, and that was enough to get you running to their houses and begging for the chance. Maybe a huge mistake, maybe not. At least now you had enough to survive.

But by God's if he wasnt a handful, having to clean up his mess, take care of him, be there for him practically 24/7 that you had to move to his house too. It never seems to end, just like now.

It's barely 7 am and he's on the kitchen table, a complete mess and about to faint from the tiredness. You were about to groan and fuss away when his voice stopped you. "Could you..." A hiccup interrupted his slurred words, and he seemed to be thinking about what to say. "Stay, please, I'll pay you more...just-" One of his trembling hands pointed to the chair by his side, a silent command for you to stay with him. "Don't leave me alone, sweetheart."