[So here's the thing: he isn't, honestly, as unused to pretty girls throwing themselves at him as she might think.
He was a winner once, after all, and he's not exactly slack when it comes to the looks department. Plenty of people wanted to sleep with the winner of a Quarter Quell, and the fact it was Haymitch was just secondary. Even in 12, he'd had more than a few offers: not immediately, not after her death, no, but sooner or later they'd come calling. Not always for sex. Security, too; he was one of the wealthiest people in the district, after all, and you could do worse than a drunkard with frequent nightmares as a husband.
But he'd turned them down. All of them, one by one, til at last people got the message and stopped trying. Til they saw him for who he really was: a cocky idiot who'd gotten everyone he'd ever loved killed in one fell swoop, and now who was left a bitter, broken shell of a man who nobody ought to want to be near, and for good fucking reason.
But here they are again. In a way, he's glad her proposition is so business-like. It's more direct, sure, and maybe not as romantic as some would like, but there's a simplicity to it. It's not even sex in exchange for protection, because he'd turn that down. Sex is a necessary part of it.
And he likes her. He really does.]
Sure.
[It's steady and pitched low, because she can be cocky all she wants, but he won't play the sputtering idiot for long.]
But if you're gonna fuck me, you do it by my rules. Got it?
[(He's glad he hadn't told her about the other part of being a winner. He doubts she would have made the offer if she'd known).]
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He was a winner once, after all, and he's not exactly slack when it comes to the looks department. Plenty of people wanted to sleep with the winner of a Quarter Quell, and the fact it was Haymitch was just secondary. Even in 12, he'd had more than a few offers: not immediately, not after her death, no, but sooner or later they'd come calling. Not always for sex. Security, too; he was one of the wealthiest people in the district, after all, and you could do worse than a drunkard with frequent nightmares as a husband.
But he'd turned them down. All of them, one by one, til at last people got the message and stopped trying. Til they saw him for who he really was: a cocky idiot who'd gotten everyone he'd ever loved killed in one fell swoop, and now who was left a bitter, broken shell of a man who nobody ought to want to be near, and for good fucking reason.
But here they are again. In a way, he's glad her proposition is so business-like. It's more direct, sure, and maybe not as romantic as some would like, but there's a simplicity to it. It's not even sex in exchange for protection, because he'd turn that down. Sex is a necessary part of it.
And he likes her. He really does.]
Sure.
[It's steady and pitched low, because she can be cocky all she wants, but he won't play the sputtering idiot for long.]
But if you're gonna fuck me, you do it by my rules. Got it?
[(He's glad he hadn't told her about the other part of being a winner. He doubts she would have made the offer if she'd known).]