Never

Purple - shockingly neon bright sears at his retinas as Haymitch attempts to open his eyes. His head pounds like so many drums – last night must have been a doozy. He extends a hand to get the offensive assault away from his face. It's soft, and warm, and... hairy?

His vision clears to reveal a woman on her side, facing away from him. She's wearing a lilac wig and absolutely nothing else.

Shit. Shit. Where is he? This isn't his room. It's too clean and tidy and there are far, far too many clothes. Spotting a discarded whisky bottle on the bedside table it grabs at it and takes a big swallow. Dutch courage.

Bits and pieces from the night before surface; copious amounts of absinthe; going out into the Capitol with Chaff; a terrible club. Wait no, he remembers coming back to the penthouse. Effie was just getting back from her night out as well - they rode the lift up together. Had a nightcap - more absinthe. He closes his eyes, covers his mouth... There was kissing.

Fuck. That's just fucking great. He aims a vicious kick at the bed frame and hurts his toe in the process. The strike wakes his bed mate.

Effie rubs at her eyes, still drowsy and confused. Most of her make-up has been smeared on the bedsheets and the purple wig has slipped to one side. She looks an adorable wreck for such a uptight bitch.

Haymitch looks around for his clothes and spots his pants half under the bed, tangled around something black and lacy. Grinding his teeth in an effort to stay calm he picks up the bra and throws it at Effie. She sits up, silk sheet wrapped around her, and looks at it dazedly.

"Uh, good morning." Her voice is raspy, and Haymitch vaguely recollects her screaming his name.

He glares at her. "This never happened. Do you hear me, Princess? THIS. NEVER. HAPPENED."

Effie returns his look levelly – she's taking this a lot better than he though she would. She acquiesces with a nod. "Agreed."

Fumbling to pull on his trousers, he looks around for his shirt. Where is his bloody shirt? No matter, he can get another from his room. He heads for escape.

"Haymitch...?" Her ridiculous accent pulls his name over several syllables. His hand freezes on the door handle.

"What?" His response is terse. He glances back over his shoulder just as Effie stretches, arms thrown back and over her head. The sheet falls down to her waist.

Holy hell she has fantastic tits.

"I have some free time in my schedule this morning." Half naked, biting at her bottom lip, her blue eyes roam freely over him.

"You... what?" He splutters. She can't have meant that the way it sounded. "Excuse me?"

"If you wanted to... fill it, I mean."

A feral smile appears. She looks hungry, like a cat toying with her prey before ripping its head off. He backs up, the door bumping him in the back.

"This is highly... uh...improper?"

"Not if it never happened. Which it did not. So it might as well never happen some more. A lady does have needs, you know."

With feline grace she slides out of the bed and sways towards him, pulling off the purple wig in the process. Her real hair is short and strawberry blonde and he can't stop staring at it. Naked and unashamed she leans up on her tiptoes and presses a kiss against his lips. Her nails skim a path down his stomach towards the top button of his jeans, and lust squirms deep in his abdomen.

He just stands there a moment, slack jawed, not quite sure that he's sober enough to properly process what is going on. Effie heads off towards the bathroom. He can hear water running. A finger beckons and he follows despite himself.

"Be a sweetheart and lock that door before you come through, would you?"

He does as he's told.

"This definitely never happened?" He captures both of her tiny wrists in one hand and pulls her close. Her bare skin writhes next to him in a most delicious manner. She smiles wickedly and pulls him down for a kiss.

"Never."

Hayffie Fanworks Challenge prompt #60 – He woke up in the wrong bed.