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Living life as a Victor is… well, it's just sort of strange.
This morning, Maysilee had woken up screaming. She'd jerked up from her pillows like a rope had gone taut, and she'd let out a cry so loud and pained that it had apparently made Haymitch drop and shatter a glass bowl downstairs in the kitchen. By the time Lenore Dove had run up the stairs and into Maysilee's bedroom, Maysilee was curled up against the headboard, one hand covering her throat, the other swiping furiously at candy-pink birds that only she could see as she gasped for breath that never came.
Much of life as a Victor was miserable. Nightmares and grief and a rising sense of panic, always rising, never providing any kind of real relief.
And then other times, it was stupid stuff like this. It was sitting across a coffee table from Haymitch, arguing over a stupid game of Jenga.
"I can see you shaking the table."
Haymitch does a double-take, looking at Maysilee with an incredulous expression. He's sitting on the floor, his back against the couch and the coffee table between them, his hands resting on its surface. Which, oh, by the way, he's using to shake the tower so it falls. Maysilee can see it.
"I'm not shaking anything!" Haymitch insists. "You're just bad at this, and you're trying to pin it on me. Again."
"I can see the top of the tower wobbling!" Maysilee snaps, gesturing to the bizarre tower of blocks between them, one that has been steadily climbing in height, one that has seemed to be on the verge of collapsing for the past ten minutes. Haymitch rolls his eyes.
"That's just the breath from all your yapping hitting it- ow!"
Maysilee reaches across the coffee table and swats his hand, causing Haymitch to let out an offended squawking noise and yank his hand away. But at that exact moment that he does, her ribs bump the edge of the coffee table. The motions send the entire tower tumbling to the side, spilling across the mahogany surface in a messy pile of wooden blocks.
She can already hear Haymitch snickering. Her whole face goes hot, and she glowers at him, her words coming out so sharp that she sees Haymitch flinch ever-so-slightly at them.
"What are you laughing at?!"
Haymitch shrugs, biting back a smile as he folds his hands behind his head and leans back.
"I'm enjoying my ninth victory of the night," he says lightly. She makes a spluttering noise, gesturing between the two of them."
"This isn't a victory! You knocked over the tower! It doesn't count!"
"Me?! You were the one who threw your body weight against the table!"
"Because you were messing with the table, you idiot!"
Haymitch lets out a groaning sound, rubbing his hands over his face in a show of exasperation before tilting his head and calling over his shoulder.
"What's the referee have to say about this whole thing?!" Maysilee's eyes follow Haymitch's to the armchair in the corner of the room, fully prepared to argue her case.
But both of them end up softening a little at the sight of Lenore Dove. Lenore Dove, who's leaning back in the armchair, her head resting against the side of its velvet surface, her book slowly falling from her hands as she quietly slumbers on, completely unaware of the argument that had been transpiring between Maysilee and Haymitch. The sight makes a rush of affection flicker through both of them.
Yes, life as a Victor is strange indeed. Because Maysilee now lives in a house with Itchy-Itchy-Haymitch-y and his girlfriend. A girlfriend who used to fantasize about breaking into Maysilee's house to steal back a pin.
It's not like either one of them had much of a choice in whether or not Lenore Dove lived with them. Snow had killed both of their families, and Haymitch hadn't wanted the same thing to happen to Lenore Dove. By that point, Maysilee and Haymitch had already been living together for a week or so; they tried the separate houses, of course, they did, but the truth is that neither one of them wants to be alone. Really, they're the only ones who can understand what the other went through, and the burden is heavy, but it's… more tolerable to be carrying it alongside someone.
Then Haymitch had brought Lenore Dove home. And somehow, Lenore Dove seemed to fit right in with their strange little arrangement. Like she was always meant to be there.
Maysilee hears Haymitch stand, sees him quietly move to Lenore Dove. He gingerly removes the book from her hands, placing Lenore Dove's bookmark in the place where she had left off before reaching up to tuck a few stray curls behind her ears. Lenore Dove stirs at this, her eyes slowly blinking open as her brow furrows in slight irritation.
"Did I fall asleep again?" she mumbles. Haymitch smiles at this, soft and fond.
"You did. Let's get you upstairs, hm?" He moves to pick her up, but Lenore Dove stops him, sitting up and glancing between the two of them.
"Are you two going to bed too?"
Maysilee's heart sinks at the question.
She and Haymitch don't sleep. When they do, they're plagued with nightmares of their time in the arena, their time in the Capitol, and well, neither one of them wants to relive those memories every single night. It's become a bit of a routine by this point, where Lenore Dove goes to bed first, and Maysilee and Haymitch stay up until the early hours of the morning playing some kind of board game, card game, or other game. Both of them desperately trying to distract the other from thoughts of their Games.
Lenore Dove worries for both of them. Of course she does. On some nights, Lenore Dove tries to stay up with them, just to provide some comfort, but she usually ends up falling asleep at some point in the night. And secretly, deep down, there's a sort of relief in that. An understanding between Haymitch and Maysilee that they're not going to drag Lenore Dove down with them.
Lenore Dove is glancing between them, still waiting for an answer, so Maysilee shakes her head. Lenore Dove sets her jaw, stretching a little before pushing out of the armchair.
"Then I'm staying up too," she declares, quietly stubborn in that way that only Lenore Dove can do. Maysilee opens her mouth to protest, but Lenore Dove shuffles over to the coffee table, plopping down next to Maysilee and looking at her expectantly. Maysilee rolls her eyes, opening up a bit of the blanket and letting Lenore Dove wrap the other end of it around her shoulders as Haymitch sits back down, bringing his knees up so he can rest his elbows on them.
"If you're tired, Lenore Dove, then you should sleep," Haymitch says gently. Lenore Dove shakes her head, rubbing at her eyes.
"I want to be here. For both of you, especially when it's hard." A small smile forms on Lenore Dove's face as she brings her hand down, resting it on the table. "Besides, it's very funny to watch you two interact."
Maysilee bristles a little bit at this, looking at Lenore Dove in a sort of offended surprise. Haymitch makes a grunting sort of noise, one of slight annoyance, letting his forehead thump against his knee.
"It's not funny," Haymitch mumbles. Lenore Dove giggles at this, shaking her head.
"No, it's… It's touching, you know? I remember when you used to hate each other."
"You hated me, too," Maysilee points out. Lenore Dove shrugs at this.
"Fair. But you're one of my closest friends now." She bumps her shoulder against Maysilee's with a crooked sort of smile. "Isn't life funny sometimes?"
Maysilee rolls her eyes at this, but she has to admit that she likes having Lenore Dove as a friend and roommate. She hadn't realized just how much she and Lenore Dove aligned on their views of the world until she actually sat down and talked with her. It helps that both of them share a love with Haymitch. Maysilee holds a very DIFFERENT kind of love for Haymitch than Lenore Dove does, but they both hold this sort of aching fondness for him. A desire to look out for him, to protect him. And so they'd bonded. Slowly at first, and then it got easier and easier with time.
In a strange way, Maysilee's happy that they're all together now. But Maysilee's not sure if she's supposed to be. Because the lead-up to this strange sort of family that they've created was something that was so deeply scarring, and it's not that this kind of connection isn't worth the pain, but…
Maysilee wishes they'd met under different circumstances. Wishes that they lived in a different world where the Games never existed at all, and they could all get to know every piece of each other before those pieces had been shattered.
She doesn't say it out loud, but she can feel it in the room. She knows that Haymitch and Lenore Dove are thinking the same thing as her, that they're wishing for that same world. Wishing that their time together wasn't something that was brought on by such pain, wishing that they could have known each other before anything had the chance to shatter them.
But they can't have that world.
Maybe that thought should be distressing, but there's a sort of peace in it. A reassurance, almost; there's no need to constantly be wondering about what could have been. They're here now. Fractured but alive, and with a table of scattered Jenga pieces between them.
"If we're all staying up late…" Maysilee stands, wincing as her joints pop and releasing the blanket to wrap it around Lenore Dove entirely. "Should I go make some hot chocolate to help get us through?"
Both Lenore Dove and Haymitch's faces brighten. They nod rapidly, and Maysilee feels a smile curve on her lips at the sight; she can never forget the first time she'd introduced Haymitch and Lenore Dove to hot chocolate, the way they both lit up at the taste. She was good at making it, and it had slowly become a staple of rougher nights together. No emotion couldn't be warmed, even for just a moment, by a cup of hot chocolate.
"I'll play Haymitch in a round," Lenore Dove says, gathering up the pieces and beginning to stack them again. Haymitch lets out a noise of protest, and Lenore Dove gives him a look. "Oh, so you only play against Maysilee?"
"You always win," Haymitch whines. "Maysilee is the only one who's equally as bad at Jenga as me. That's why I play her."
Lenore Dove lets out a soft laugh at this, moving over until she's able to press a kiss to Haymitch's cheek. "Well, tough luck. You're playing me."
Maysilee can still hear them bickering from the kitchen, playful and teasing in that ridiculously cheesy way that always makes Maysilee want to gag, but for some reason, on this particular night, she finds that she doesn't mind it so much.
Life as a Victor is this. Insomnia and a fear of sleeping accompanied by hot chocolate, affectionate banter, and a strange sort of peace. A mixture of grief and happiness alike.
It's hard to say whether Maysilee is happy or not in an overall sense. But in small moments like these, she finds that she's happy to still be alive. Even if only to experience a night like this.
There's the sound of blocks crashing, of Lenore Dove's soft giggles. Maysilee needed to hurry up before Haymitch and Lenore Dove started getting really competitive with each other. So she pulls a pot out from one of the cabinets and gets right to work.