𝑯𝑶𝑷𝑬 | 𝑃𝐸𝐸𝑇𝐴 𝑀𝐸𝐿𝐿𝐴𝑅𝐾

𝕭𝖔𝖔𝖐 𝕺𝖓𝖊 • 𝔠𝔥𝔞𝔭𝔱𝔢𝔯 𝔣𝔬𝔲𝔯

⚔⚜⚔▏𝑯𝑶𝑷𝑬
➶⌢➴ haymitch's instructions

𝐅𝐎𝐑 𝐀 𝐅𝐄𝐖 𝐌𝐈𝐍𝐔𝐓𝐄𝐒, Peeta and I take in the scene of our mentor trying to rise out of the slippery vile stuff from his stomach.

The reek of vomit and raw spirits
almost brings my dinner up. We exchange a glance.

Obviously Haymitch isn’t much, but Effie Trinket is right about one thing, once we’re in the arena he’s all we’ve got. As if by some unspoken agreement, Peeta
and I each take one of Haymitch’s arms and help him to his feet.

“I tripped?” Haymitch asks. “Smells bad.” He wipes his hand on his nose, smearing his face with vomit.

“Let’s get you back to your room,” says Peeta.
“Clean you up a bit.”
We half-lead half-carry Haymitch back to his compartment. Since we can’t exactly set him down on the embroidered bedspread, we haul him into the
bathtub and turn the shower on him. He hardly notices.
“It’s okay,” Peeta says to me. “I’ll take it from here.”

I can’t help feeling a little grateful since the last thing I want to do is strip down Haymitch, wash the vomit out of his chest hair, and tuck him into bed.

Possibly Peeta is trying to make a good impression on him, to be his favorite once the Games begin. But judging by
the state he’s in, Haymitch will have no memory of this tomorrow.

“All right,” I say. “I can send one of the Capitol people to help you.”

There’s a slightly big number on the train. Cooking lor us. Waiting on us. Guarding us. Taking care of us is their job.

“No. I don’t want them,” says Peeta.

“Alright.” And without hesitation I head to my own room. I understand how
Peeta feels. I can’t stand the sight of the Capitol people myself. But making them deal with Haymitch might be a small form of revenge.

So I’m pondering the reason why he insists on taking care of Haymitch
and all of a sudden I think, It’s because he’s being kind.

Just as he was kind to give me the bread.