AN: Katniss's POV. Takes place after the 75th Hunger Games have been announced.

No Regrets

I'm running. I don't even care where I'm going, I just need to get out of this house. Away from my crying mother and my scared sister. I just can't deal with their emotions too right now. It still hasn't completely sunk in yet. I will be reaped in a few week's time for yet another Hunger Games.

I'm not paying attention to where I'm going and my feet carry me to the place I'd least expected. Before I know it, I 'm in front of Haymitch's door. Without thinking, I open the door and walk in. The place is strewn with empty bottles. In the kitchen, the sink is full of dishes and the counters are overflowing with glasses and plates crusted with bits of food. I'm about to leave, disgusted at the sight before me when I hear a familiar voice close behind me. Too close.

"Can I help you, sweetheart?" Haymitch asks, his mouth inches from my ear. I spin around, startled by his sudden presence. I let out a gasp when I see his eyes staring into mine. We are at eye level now. Gray on gray.

"I just…," I start to say before he puts a finger to my lips, silencing me.

"I already know why you're here."

"You do?"

"You want me to save him this time, don't you?"

"No...I'm here to drink," I lie, not wanting to give him the satisfaction of being right.

"Well, join the club. I was just about to open this here," he says, holding up a bottle.

"Is that really why you're here, sweetheart?"

"It is now," I snap. And stop calling me that!"

"What, sweetheart?"

"Yes, that. Stop calling me that"

"As you wish...sweetheart," he smirks at my obvious irritation as I snatch the bottle out of his hands, breaks the seal and takes the first drink.

"So, what was your original reason for coming here?" he says, grabbing the bottle from my outstretched hand and taking a big gulp.

"You were right the first time, Okay?" I say, taking back the bottle.

"Of course I was. I always am, sweetheart," he says, chuckling at my obvious irritation. He knows me so damn well. It's frustrating. "So, why him? Why do you want me to help him? You don't love him. You don't…"

"What does it matter! Can you just promise me?" I almost yell, taking another swig.

"Do you know what you're asking of me, Katniss?" He says, taking the bottle from my hands.

"Yes, I do."

"Did you ever stop to think what that might mean for me? I would have to go back into the arena. Is that what you want?" He asks, taking a big gulp.

"No...I don't know," I say, tears starting to well up in my eyes. I snatch the bottle. I need something to distract myself. I can't cry. Not now. This time I take a Haymitch-sized gulp from the bottle. I cringe at the taste.

"Well, you think about that," he says, taking the bottle. This time I see him take two mouthfuls of the liquid before setting the bottle down.

"...Haymitch, I'm sorry. I don't want you to go back into the arena. Maybe you can help him like you helped me last time."

"I can try, Katniss. That's all I can do."

"Thank you," I say, getting up from the couch and throwing my arms around Haymitch in his chair. I can smell the liquor on his breath as he gasps in surprise at my sudden show of gratitude. After a while, he pats my back awkwardly, signaling that I should move. I don't. Instead, I nestle my face into the crook of his neck and breath deeply. He smells good, I realize. Like liquor and soap and something, I've never smelled before. A smell I decide that I like.

"You smell nice, Haymitch," I mumble into his neck.

"Ummm...I think the liquor has gone to your head," he says, trying to pull away. I don't know why but I don't want to pull away. For the first time since the reaping, I feel safe. I don't know what I'm doing but when I finally pull my face from Haymitch's neck, I put my forehead against his. "Katniss…"

"Hmmm?" I say, closing my eyes, resting my body against his. He lets out a long sigh, about to say something. I don't even think about what I'm doing but before he gets a word out my lips touch his. As my only kissing experience was with Peeta in the cave, I'm not sure what to do. I press my lips more firmly to his. Before I've really had a chance to experience this moment, to take it all in, he's pulling his lips from mine.

"What are you doing?" I don't respond as I raise my hand to cup the back of his head, bringing him in for another kiss. Our lips meet briefly, softly before he pulls away again.

"Please?" I say, pleading with him. I don't know why I'm doing this but it feels good to be so close to someone.

"Katniss...what do you want from me?" he says, a note of sadness in his voice as he lifts my chin so our eyes meet. There is the same sadness in his eyes as there is in his voice. I don't understand. I want to just kiss it all away.

"I need you and I want you to kiss me," I say. I only realize that this is true when I've said it out loud.

"Katniss, I can't be what you need."

"But you are," I whisper, placing my forehead against his. I can feel his breath on my face when he lets out a deep sigh. "Just kiss me, Haymitch," I say, forcing our lips to meet this time. This time, he doesn't resist. He opens his mouth. Taken by surprise, I open my eyes only to find his closed, his brow furrowed. I only realize that I have frozen, when he pulls away.

"What's wrong? Isn't this what you wanted, sweetheart? Or did you change your mind?"

"No, not at all...it's just...I don't know how to do this. What if I'm bad at it?"

"Just follow my lead," he says, pulling me toward him. This time when his mouth opens, I do the same. I feel his tongue slip into my mouth. To my surprise, the taste of liquor doesn't repulse me like I thought it might. I welcome it, crave it. As our tongues dance, I become aware that he has put his hand on my cheek, keeping me in place. I only have a vague idea of what sex is, but I know it involves no clothes. When I go to unbutton his shirt, he pulls away from our kiss, grasping both my wrists in one hand.

"What are you doing?"

"I just thought...ummm...well…"

"What?"

"I thought that this doesn't involve clothes."

"What? Kissing?"

"No...uh...sex," I murmur, feeling my face heat up. He smirks at my obvious embarrassment.

"I didn't think we were having sex. I don't think it's a good idea."

"Why not?"

"A bunch of reasons. One of which is that things will be awkward between us tomorrow when you come to your senses and realize that you never wanted this."

"That's not going to happen," I say, repositioning my body so that I'm straddling him. I feel something hard rub between my legs. It feels good so I rub on it. Haymitch lets out a groan.

"What's in your pocket?"

"There's nothing in my pocket, sweetheart," he says with his eyes closed. He looks like he's concentrating on something.

"Then what's this?" I ask, grabbing the hard thing rubbing against me. When I realize that it's him, I quickly withdraw my hand. He laughs.

"It's ok, you can touch me," he says, opening his eyes and smiling in amusement at my ignorance as he goes to unzip his pants.

"Okay," I say, grabbing him. He lets out a grunt and shuts his eyes again. He has that look of concentration again.

"What's wrong?"

"Nothing's wrong."

"Why is your face all scrunched up then?" I ask, feeling him beneath my hand, moving upward, exploring the length of him.

"I'm trying to not lose control here. I haven't done this in a really long time. Just give me a minute," he says in a ragged whisper.

"Okay," I say, pressing myself against him again, rubbing my crotch against his.

"That's not exactly giving me a minute," he grunts. I can tell that he likes this, so I continue. I rub harder this time, tilting my head back and letting out a gasp. He opens his eyes and puts his hands on my hips, stopping me.

"Please don't stop," I groan.

"First, tell me?" he says, tilting my head up to meet his eyes. Eyes so much like mine it's as if I'm looking into a mirror.

"Tell you what?" I ask, trying to work out what it is he's getting at. My mind is hazy and I can't figure out what he's talking about.

"Tell me this isn't wrong, that this isn't totally crazy. Tell me you won't regret this."

"This is most definitely wrong, is almost certainly crazy, but I will have no regrets."

"Okay," he says before his lips crash into mine without hesitation. This time I'm not surprised when he thrusts his tongue into my mouth. I return the gesture with equal fervor. I get lost in the moment, my hands clumsy as I try to unbutton his shirt. He pulls away, chucking at my lack of expertise.

"It's these damn buttons," I say, irritated at my ineptitude.

"Let me help you," he says, taking my hands in his and unbuttoning his shirt with one hand. I feel my mouth drop when I see his bare chest. He is well muscled and his abs are well defined. I realize that I actually find him attractive on a level I hadn't thought possible.

"What are you staring at, sweetheart?"

"You, you're...beautiful...I mean, you know...in a manly way."

"Why so surprised? What'd you expect? A beer belly?" he says eyebrows raised in question, a smug smirk on his face.

"Well...yeah...well, I mean...I didn't really know what to expect, but I didn't expect this," I say, reaching out to place my hand on his rock-solid stomach.

"Well, sweetheart...are you disappointed?" he asks pulling my hand away from his stomach and up to his lips. He kisses my fingers, tasting me. I brush my hand across his stubbled jaw, surprised at how much I like it. It suits him. I lean in to press my lips to his jaw, wanting to feel the stubble against my lips. The stubble is prickly and almost hurts, but I find that it's not unpleasant. I place kisses along his jaw, down to his neck. He groans, whispering "Don't stop" into my ear. He returns my kisses in the same path along my skin. I know now why he didn't want me to stop. I don't want him to stop.

When he stops kissing me, I look up at him, "Why'd you stop?"

"I have other things in mind."

"Like what?"

"You'll see," he says as he goes to slip my shirt over my head, unfastening my bra in the same motion.

"What are you…?" I begin to ask. I don't even finish my question before he has one nipple in his mouth and the other pinched between his thumb and index finger. I let out a low moan. He looks up at me and smiles.

"Like that, sweetheart?"

"Yes," I say in a ragged whisper. He moves to take off my pants and I feel the slightest bit embarrassed at the thought of him seeing me naked. When he slips his hand down into my panties, all embarrassment is forgotten as I tilt my head back and let out a cry of pleasure at his expert touch. I feel something begin to build inside me as heat pools between my legs. I'm breathing hard and fast. I don't know what's happening but I like it and I don't want it to stop. I become so consumed by the sensations that I'm feeling that I almost don't hear Haymitch talking to me.

"Let go, Katniss," he says

"Let go?" I ask, confused.
"Come for me, sweetheart," he says as he makes slow circles with his thumb, rubbing with his finger still inside me. He slips another finger inside me and that's when I realize what he meant when he said 'let go.' So I do, in a forceful wave of ecstasy, head spinning, and heart pounding, I finally let go. As I'm coming down from my climax, I see him quickly shoving off his boxers, springing free in all his manly glory as he opens my legs, nestles his body between them, and presses himself against me. I let out a gasp of pain, looking at him in confusion.

"What…?"

"Don't worry," he says, coaxing me to relax. "It will only hurt for a second. Do you trust me?"

"Yes," I manage to squeak out.

"Okay," he says as he presses harder. I grit my teeth and shut my eyes. Then I feel him inside me and I'm filled with that same heat from earlier. As he moves and thrusts his hips, I can feel myself climbing to that blissful peak yet again. He's crying out my name and, before I know it, his name is on my lips as I reach my climax for the second time, in synch with his own release. He crumples in a heap on top of me and I wrap my arms around him, holding him to me. I don't ever want to let go.

"How was that, sweetheart?" he says, smiling up at me.

"That...was...amazing," I say, still reeling from my last orgasm.

We lie there for a while. He shifts off of me and places me on top of him. I feel less crushed this way. He wraps me in his strong arms and nestles his nose in my hair.

"Tell me, Katniss," he says, tilting my chin so we are at eye level.

"No regrets," I say as I give him one last deep kiss. A kiss that says all the words I can't.

"Why'd you kiss me like that?"

"Like what?" I had hoped he wouldn't notice, but of course, he had. He knows me too well.

"Like you're saying goodbye," he says, eyes filled with sadness again. I'm silent as I look into his eyes, tears threatening to spill out of mine at any moment. I have to look away. He doesn't let me as he takes my chin in his strong hands, forcing me to look at him. He can see it in my eyes as clear as if I were to say it out loud. I am saying goodbye just like his eyes are saying, pleading with me to stay alive. But he knows as do I that I will not survive a second Hunger Games. So we lie there in silence as I cry and he strokes my hair. He doesn't have to say it because I already know. His stroking of my hair is his own form of saying goodbye.

AN: I hope you guys liked this story. Should I keep it as a one-shot or should I keep going? Let me know. As always, please review.

-NefariousEnvy