Work Text:
They stood, waiting with bated breath. There was scarcely a sound to be heard. Their eyes were glued to the big screen, just as the rest of the Twelve’s was. There were those from Town and those from the Seam stood shoulder to shoulder, all transfixed onto the sight in front of them. For the first time in nearly forty years, since Twelve’s first victor, the district stood united, silently showing support to their last remaining tribute.
Al felt as if he couldn’t breathe. A few minutes pass and a feeling of unease spreads over the crowd as they watch the One girl and Haymitch fight.
He watches the One girl take an rebounded axe to the head and collapse, and a booming voice announce ‘Haymitch, victor of the Fiftieth Hunger Games!’
He then sees the telltale ladder be thrown down, the one that will take Haymitch out of the horror he’s been fighting, killing and living in for the lest fortnight and he hears Hyacinth next to him laugh, loud and exhilarated, taking over her whole body. He'd never seen a person laugh that way, and before she’d rarely even opened her mouth to smile, ever serious as she was. Now, her shoulders were shaking, her eyes were bright, her face was flushed, and her smile was so wide that made him feel nothing but affection for her.
He turned to her, grinning, and placed one calloused hand on her waist, and the other on her cheek before he leaned in, gaze flickering between her lips and eyes and pressed their mouths together in just a hint of a kiss— a feather-soft touch.
In his kiss was the promise of years and the sweetness of waiting for real love.
He then pulled back, watched ‘Cinth’s face and he must have found something he approved of, for he leaned back in and kissed her again.