Haymitch Says

Summary: You can't say No when Haymitch plays matchmaker.

I've been watching them for almost three years. No one would expect—I'm assuring of it. He's obviously in love with her. And nobody even noticed. In the little window of my house in Victor's Village, I would see a little chimney releasing bits of puffy smoke. Apparently, it was from a bakery. I always noticed how he looks at her as she passes by.

His eyes follow every step she takes. She's undeniably one filthy girl, smudges of dirt are stained on her clothes, her blemished fingernails stood out and her frizzy hair which looks like haven't been wash for a week or so. She stood out pretty easily among the girls in her age. I couldn't comprehend how he fell for her.

He's well-off, she's not. He's talented, she's not. He has a future, she doesn't.

Yet even with that, he's in love with her.

And then one day, something hit me.

I grab my bottle of rum, given by Greasy Sae for my birthday, and head outside. I'm determined to help him. I don't know what got me thinking like this (probably the drink but I doubt it) but I want to see them together.

It started raining but I don't mind getting wet. I keep on stumbling on my way to the bakery. I could smell scent of bread lingering in the air. It has been long times since I've last smell one. Beer is better though.

I stop on my way as soon as my eyes lands on the girl looking at the bread from outside the window. The cold rain drips in every inch of her body; she has nothing to cover herself with except a big and loose coat that doesn't fit her. I could see her eyes intensely looking at the bread on display. Her grubby fingers pressed on the window, her eyes hunger more than a predator's.

I take a drink from my bottle, bits of the liquid got into my beard but I wipe it away with my sleeves. The bakery's door open, revealing a tall thin woman. She holds firmly on her ground, shooing the girl with her hands. Her hair is tied into a bun and her clothes looks ancient on her. That's an average life in District 12—a forgotten and forsaken place.

When the woman thought the girl left for good, she enters the shop again, making the girl return from her spot. Smart, I chuckle. The door opens again, I thought it was the lady but as it turns out it's the young boy. He's holding a piece of burnt bread and the woman slaps him, making him drop the bread. The young girl looks at the bread and then to the boy. He enters once again, without taking the bread. She grabs the bread and holds on to it as if it carries her life force. Then she leaves, her footprints wash away by the drizzling rain.

I click my tongue in annoyance.

Dang, he fell hard for that girl.

As night time fall, I drink until my heart's content. I stare up to the heavens and see the glittering stars from above. District 12 may have been a forgotten place, but it is the best place to see the stars. We're far away from the capital, far from the dreaded pollution, far from the exotic taste of its people but never far from the Hunger Games.

Stars, I thought. The dark sky will always have these stars. They have seen countless battles, countless deaths, countless love that bloomed and countless unrequited love.

"Star-crossed lovers," I mutter, swinging the bottle of rum in the air. "How ill-fated if that were to happen."

Maybe at that time, I would have never expected that something unimaginable dread would happen to those two.