two years ago, you were fortunate enough to win the 52nd annual hunger games. haymitch had been your mentor that year, which caused your relationship to grow from professional to personal, and even a bit romantic.

you both helped each other stay afloat in the bottomless pit that was your trauma. you became mentors, and your relationship never blossomed into anything more.

this year’s hunger games ended with both of your tributes dead, which came to no ones surprise, but it still hurt. not only that, it made you relive the worst part of your life.

you shot up in bed, knocking haymitch’s arm off of your midsection. chest heaving, you took a glance out the window of your home in victor’s village. it was dark out, the moonlight shining in.

“nightmare?” haymitch asked in a drowsy, heavy tone. his arm wrapped around your shoulders.