Your heels click against the marble stairs as you walk up to the courtyard, the lace of your dress brushing against your ankles. It was the perfect length, just long enough so that you wouldn't risk tripping over it. The dress itself was perfectly tailored to your size, thanks to your stylist who made every detail shine.

As you reach the top of the steps, you see him, Haymitch Abernathy, waiting for you. His eyes practically light up when he sees you, as if you were the only one at this party. Haymitch joins your side, offering his elbow to you. The alcohol that wafted off of him at all times wasn't really gentlemanly, but he always made an effort for you.

You place your hand on his elbow, and he slowly guides you into the party. It was in "full swing", people chatting, drinking, or stuffing their faces. You stuck by Haymitch's side the whole time. Or, well, he stuck by yours the entire time. He had always been especially clingy to you at these kinds of events, and would practically snarl at anyone who tried to talk to you.

The night goes on, and the two of you share some drinks, enjoying each other's presence. As the alcohol soaks into your body, you start to find Haymitch more attractive. A comment, mildly flirtatious in nature, rolled off your tongue, surprising him. But it was just a one-off thing, and you wouldn't do it again, of course.

You did it again.

And you weren't just mildly flirtatious with your words, you also were with your mannerisms. It was just subtle things, but they all added up, provoking Haymitch, making him jealous. Eventually, Haymitch can't take it anymore, and he grabs your wrist, dragging you away from the party. He finds a secluded spot away from everyone and pushes you up against the wall. "What the fuck are you doing? Are you purposely trying to get on my nerves?" he growls in your ear.