Disclaimer: I own nothing THG.
Note: This is a 'Gadge' one-shot set while Katniss & Peeta are back in the arena during Catching Fire. Gale & Madge are watching together. Madges POV.
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Right five paces. Pivot. Left five paces. Pause. Repeat. Gales left hand is lifted, his thumb tucked tightly beneath his chin while his middle and index fingers cover his lips. There is a deep concerned furrow in his brow as the television crackles in the background. Both eyes are fixated so tightly on the floor they do not even flutter when I speak his name. Occasionally I look up to find he has stopped pacing but, only long enough to glance in the direction of the television. There isn't much I can say to bring him back into our reality, here in twelve, his mind is wondering in directions that I cannot even fathom. Before my brain is fully aware of the movement my mouth is making I say this in soft tone:
"If you keep pacing like that, there is going to be a permanent trail on the floor."
I think my lips even form a faint smile after I'm done speaking but, I decide it's better to look away before I can see if his mouth returns the favor. Yet again my body decides to take over for me, my fingers untangle themselves and even pat the spot on the floor next to me.
"Sit..?" My voice whispers.
He does. I listen as his lungs heave in and out a deep sigh of restlessness, similar to the one I've been trying to conceal for hours. On the outside, we would look like a pair of children sitting cross-legged in the corner of the room. As if we had just been punished, looking grim and angry all at once but really; we were anything more? Gale breaks the long silence first.
"I can't watch that anymore." He says, his hand motioning towards the television.
"I know."
It's a pitiful response on my behalf but, it's all my brain could think to produce. I scrunch my face in horror; I was not much for words, let alone trying to have the ability to make someone feel calm. It's quiet for a long time again, with nothing but the sound of our breath filling the room. I start to turn towards him, motioning with my hand toward the door. He catches it, more gently than I could have ever anticipated. I can't keep my gaze off our hands and what happens next is so smooth, almost natural. He spreads apart our fingers, fanning them out for a few seconds before pushing his past mine and intertwining them. I glance up at his face; it's slightly softer than before. I lean back against the wall with him. Quiet. Our fingers still twined together.