When he caught Katniss' lips between his own, forced her lips apart with his wet tongue, he wondered to himself whether she noticed the unnaturally sweet scent of strawberries that clung to his clothes - the sweet scent of Madge Undersee.
He wondered if she could tell that, when he closed his eyes, his imagination ran wild, as well as his hands running through silken hair, body pressed against a body smaller than his, clothed in a white dress made of an expensive texture worth a year of his hunting.
He treated her mouth with the delicacy that he would treat Madge's mouth. His body responded as if the body before him were made of soft, pale flesh with a head of sunshine. He daren't move his fingers to enterwine them with hers.
But the lips that moved against his were too chapped and rough against his, almost as if he were kissing himself. The hours of treatment that Katniss had been forced to endure after she'd been announced a winner had done nothing to her.
When he lifted his hands to cup her face, his calloused fingers were met with hard skin. He pulled away with the knowledge that no, this was not Madge he was kissing.
When he opened his eyes, he stared into the wrong face. Skin too hard. Hair too dark. Eyes a color too different from blue. The humiliation that he would only have her darkness to keep him satisfied settled in his chest. His heart felt heavy and his throat was dry as Katniss Everdeen stared at him expectantly. How could she guess that she was not the one that he had been kissing?
A/N: I got this idea from another Gadge oneshot by thewindwarns. Just my version, after Katniss is back and he's gotten to know Madge.