"It wasn't your fault."
His front door is open of course. Always open.
"What?" Gale doesn't turn around from his spot by the fire, his hand clutching a bottle of white liqour.
"The girl." She whispers, coming to sit beside him, "The little one from District 6. It isn't your fault."
He turns his head to the side slightly, his eyes meeting hers fiercely, "She died, right in front of me Madge."
"You did your best."
"It wasn't enough."
"You were all fighting for your lives," Madge slips her hand into his nervously, ignoring the childish way her heart starts racing at his touch, "You couldn't be everybody's hero, Gale."
His mouth drops into a thin line and she sighs heavily.
Lifeless.
His grey eyes are lifeless. Where there used to be intensity and passion and raw angst…there is just hollowness.
A void.
"Please Gale." She tightens her grip on his hand, "Please don't become what they want you to be. Please."
"I killed him with my own bare hands, Madge." She knows he's talking about the Career from District 1 - the frightening one with electric blue eyes and a scowl that could burn right down to your heart, "I ripped his throat out."
"You did what you had to."
"I'm a murderer."
"You're a survivor." She cups his face in her hands, not caring that her fingers are trembling, "You're a Victor Gale. I don't know what I would have done if you hadn't come back."
And then she sees it. A flicker.
Something moving beyond the sea of grey and hopelessness.
"What are you talking about, Madge?" He doesn't call her Undersee anymore and she likes that.
"I need you Gale." Her eyes are watering but she doesn't wipe the tears away, "And not just to bring me strawberries every week."
His eyes narrow and he hesitates, "I'm not sure what you're trying to say." He still hasn't moved away from her touch and Madge knows that's a good thing.
She should hold onto it for all it's worth.
"I don't like strawberries Gale." She draws closer, the tip of her nose brushing against his cheek, "I like you."
A beat of silence.
And then lips that she was so sure would be hard and unforgiving, press against hers softly and Madge loses herself in all that represents Gale Hawthorne. He grabs her by the neck, pulling her impossibly close to him, tracing circles into the skin of her collarbone, running thick fingers through even thicker hair.
And when she pulls away for a moment to breath, and slowly opens her eyes, her breath is taken from her throat.
Because he's looking at her in a way that makes Madge's stomach twist a million different directions - but that's not what surprises her.
It is his eyes - just moments ago so lifeless and dull - they are vibrant and alive and a million shades of brilliant grey.
"You're okay." She whispers, grabbing his face in her hands again and running her soft fingers over his rough skin, "You're okay."
"Because of you." He says simple, "Always because of you."
And then he presses his lips to hers once more, and Madge Undersee realises that she just might be falling in love with a boy from the Seam, a Hunter…a Victor.
And alive, she reminds herself. He's alive.
…