Aftersun 𖤓 peeta mellark

i. a flicker of hope

•°. *࿐

i.  a flicker of hope

          PRESIDENT SNOW HAD A WAY OF MANIPULATING HIS VICTORS. He made them feel as though they owed him for his generosity, for allowing them to survive his wicked games. The younger tributes were the easiest to control. He welcomed them into his closed off communities, invited them to parties and made them feel special, then when he needed them he guilted them into doing exactly what he asked. Everyone knew not to mess with Snow, his brutal punishments were known by everyone in Panem, but the victors, the people who had seen first hand how barbaric the Capitol's retribution was and were supposed to be free of its brutality, happened to fear him the most.

When Snow visited Avonlea's cozy home in district four, she could smell the sickening perfume of the Capitol as soon as she walked in the door. Visiting her in person was a waste of time, they both knew what her response would be before he even made his request.

Avonlea was on a train to district twelve a week later. It hadn't even been two years since she won her games and she was already being assigned as a mentor to another district. How was she supposed to coach tributes her age or even older when she still hadn't grappled with the pain and loss of her own games? She still awoke in the late hours of the night, sweating and screaming from vivid memories of her games. 

The only relief about her situation was her co-mentor, Haymitch Abernathy. The pair met at her Capitol victory party a year prior and while at first they weren't fond of each other, once Avonlea was baited into her first tastes of alcohol at just fourteen years old, they had a grand time trashing a bedroom in the Presidential Palace and laughing at Capitol residents. The following year, Avonlea's reliance on alcoholic drinks had grown and Haymitch revelled in having someone he could relate to for once, even if it was a fifteen year old girl. He found purpose in looking out for the young victor, making sure she doesn't make the same mistakes he did. For the first time in a long time he felt capable of caring about someone, Snow took that away from him but it was Avonlea who brought it back out.

Sitting in the bar cart of the stationary train, Haymitch and Avonlea took turns taking shots, knowing they should be watching the district twelve reaping but having no cares in the world. Neither of them had watched a reaping since their games, knowing it would reopen old wounds they had already buried in the little dark of their minds. 

Their comfortable silence was interrupted by the sharp clicking of Effie Trinket's heels. She opened the doors to the train cart and stood behind the two victors, they barely batted an eye at her presence.

"The tributes have arrived. Please make yourselves decent and come do your job" she sighs, looking between the two at the row of empty glasses sitting upon the bar. Avonlea stands up immediately while it takes Haymitch a moment longer to collect his posture and join the girls in walking through several train carts. When they arrive at the door and Haymitch gets a glance at the two young tributes inside he turns back around, stopping both women who were following his lead.

"I think I should hit the hay, i'll meet with them tomorrow" he abruptly announces. Before he can turn away Effie grabs his shoulder and pushes him back towards the door.