Everything is silent as Madge trudges through the fresh snow, making slight crunching sounds underfoot. Flakes spiral around in the sky and tangle themselves in her blonde hair, where they melt in abundance. Madge likes snow. It's pretty. She just doesn't want to walk home in it. Her breaths leave puffs of smoke dangling around her, twisting around in the air until they fade away. The icy air burns her throat, but that just makes her feel more alive. Madge's new life in District 12 is great. It is as much as she had wished for during the War, when she had spent all of her days underground in District 13, desperate to go home. This is what District 12 is, and always would be, to her. Home. Even without her mother, whose health had deteriorated so badly that she died from heart failure just before the War had ended. Mrs Undersee hadn't lived to see a liberated Panem, but Madge and her father had. She had been buried in the Meadow with the other lost sons and daughters, mothers and fathers, wives and husbands who had died in the War. It was this place that Madge was returning from, a place she visited often. She liked to sit and think there, and ask her mother for advice. Not that she got any, but it always gave Madge some comfort and she needs comfort at this time of year. Christmas; her mother's favourite day. Every year Mrs Undersee would hang decorations in the house and sing old Christmas carols before she became too ill – secretly, of course. Christmas was a tradition from the Old Age, and therefore banned by the Capitol. However, now the Capitol was gone, Christmas had returned with a vengeance, as it gave families something to look forward to after dealing with death and rebuilding. Everyone had stayed at home with their families today, in anticipation for Christmas tomorrow. Although Madge loved Christmas, it made her miss her mother more than ever, and it was worse when her father was off on business and she had to spend it alone, as she was doing this year.
As she walks through the empty roads, Madge's eyes survey the glistening festive lights shining from all the houses, casting magical patterns of colour on the downy snow. She is so captivated by this exquisite site that she doesn't notice a hunched figure sitting on her doorstep until it clears its throat. Her eyes widen through fear, and then continue to widen as she realises who the shadowy form is, her heart pumping erratically, before regaining her composure. Removing her gloves, and smoothing down her hair, Madge shoots the visitor a cool look.
"How did you get here?" she demands, pulling out her silver key and forcing it into the door.
"I'm not quite sure," Pause. "I always seem to turn up here," The person tries to laugh, but the sound dies in its throat.
"You do. And maybe I'm sick of it," Madge sneers.
"I'm sorry. I'm a bad person, I know. But I need you," they beg, hands tugging at their hair.
"You always say that," she shoots back, less harsh this time as bittersweet memories flood back. She lowers her eyes. "Please, just stop. I'm tired of being used,"
The figure reaches out and grabs her wrist. A warmth seeps into the skin where they're touching her and she looks up at a pair of grey eyes in shock.
"You've got it wrong. I'm not using you, because, well, I'd never want to hurt you, Madge," The silver eyes plead with her, making her heart weep inside her chest. She sighs and jerks her wrist out of his grasp.
"I swear to God, this is the last time, Gale Hawthorne,"
She places a mug of hot chocolate in front of him, and Gale gratefully wraps his hands around it. His eyes follow the blonde around the room, still as beautiful as he remembers her. The golden hair he used to play with still fell in perfect waves, and her eyes still had their own sparkle. He tells her he's been waiting for 2 hours. She pretends she doesn't care.
Once out of her coat and snow covered shoes, Madge grabs her mug and plods herself down across from him. They're sitting in a fairly small living room doused in a yellow light from the crackling fire, him on the large loveseat piled with red cushions, her on the small plump armchair she usually reads in. A coffee table perches on a cream piled rug in front of them, covered with books and papers.
"This is nice. I really like the… the rug! It looks nice. Everything looks nice. You look nice," Gale rambles in an attempt to make this less awkward. Madge rolls her eyes and cuts him off.
"Why are you here, Gale? It's been years," she inquires icily.
4 years, to be precise. The day Katniss and Peeta kissed on the beach in the Quarter Quell. Gale had turned up at her house, half drunk, yelling at her, calling her a liar for saying that Katniss loved him. When Madge had tried to shut the door, he apologised and begged her to let him in. Being a foolish girl in love, she had, where she spent the night mopping his tears and holding him, all the while her heart breaking just a little bit more. This was not the first time Gale Hawthorne had come knocking, and far from the first time he had broken her heart. The first time he had visited was the day when Katniss was reaped. The second time was when she risked her life for Peeta at the feast. The rest of the times blur together and Madge is glad of it. Every time made her heart hurt more, and made her fall in love with him more, too.
"Katniss and Peeta got married," A dull stab. You don't care anymore, she reminds herself. "Did you know that?" He continues, eyes refusing to meet hers.
"I was the maid of honour," Madge replies dryly. A look of betrayal flashes across his face, soon replaced with a gloomy expression. She sadistically decides that she likes being the one to hurt, rather than being the one who is hurt.
"It was about time they got married, they were always spending time together, sleeping around each other's and…" she pauses for effect, "going to the woods every day," That was a low blow and she knew it. The woods were special to Gale and Katniss, as Madge had found out when she suggested that she and Gale should go there during one of his visits. He had looked at her with such venom that she was momentarily scared for her life, before he stalked out of her house, slamming the door so hard that two of her mother's ornaments had fallen of the fireplace and shattered. Madge had cut her hands in the process of cleaning up, and the salt from her tears had stung the wounds.
She rubs her hands in remembrance, biting her lip as she slowly regrets her words. To her surprise however, Gale merely gives a short crisp laugh, and smiles despondently at her.
"I guess I deserved that, didn't I?" In return, she gives a small smile back.
"You sure did," They watch each other for a while, the usual feeling of peace descending between them, just like it always did.
"You want a refill?" Madge asks, standing up and reaching out for his mug. He gives her a half grin.
"I'll help,"
They walk to the kitchen side by side, arms and elbows sometimes brushing each other, each time sending an electrical shock up their arms and making their hearts beat a bit faster. Madge is the one to pull away first. Stop it, she tells herself. When they reach the kitchen, she points him to the sink to wash the mugs. She herself strides over to the fridge and plucks out the cream. Starting to eat it with her little finger, she hears a laugh from the other side of the room.
Narrowing her eyes, she glowered at him, "What so funny, Hawthorne?"
"It's not very ladylike to eat the cream with your fingers, is it, Undersee?" She looks back and forth between the cream and her finger before shrugging and dipping her finger in again.
"Screw it,"
Gale is laughing and shaking his head, when the wet mug slips out of his hand and lands with a deafening crack on the ground, splitting into little shards. Madge whirls around, and takes in the scene.
He's standing there, completely still, surrounded by pieces of cracked ceramic. His mouth is half open, his eyes wide in panic, and the word 'goldfish' flashes through her mind. A smile slowly spreads across her face and she starts to giggle. Before she knows it, Madge is in fits of laughter, leaning against the counter. He scowls.
"It's not funny, Undersee," She bites her lip to contain herself, but a grin is still plastered onto her red tinted face. They look at each other. He's trying not to laugh. Sniggers rack her body, and pretty soon she's in fits again, but this time he is joining in.
"Help…me…clean…it…up," he chokes out. Still shaking with laughter, she moves towards him and kneels down to pick up the pieces. They make the mistake of looking at each other, which makes them giggle even more.
That's when he does it.
He leans forward and presses their lips together gently, slowly but passionately. The laughter stops and their grins fall. It's only them in existence, everything else forgotten. He feels as if his heart is going to explode, when he feels coldness on his cheek. Opening his eyes, he sees Madge watching him, tears trickling down her cheeks. He reaches over to wipe away the tears but she jerks from his touch, looking away from him.
"Why do you always do this to me?" she whispers. "Why do you have to make me hope and feel better, and then just disappear? Is it on purpose? Are you really that cruel?" Her voice rises at the end, and she stands up, clutching the shards of ceramic in her hand so hard they started to bleed, just as they had before. The look on her face breaks Gale's heart, and he finally understands. She loves him, and all he does is hurt her. But he doesn't want to do that anymore.
Standing up, he reaches for her hand, clutching it even when she tries to free herself.
"I love you," he murmurs.
"Let go of me!" she sobs, unaware that he had spoken.
"I love you," he says, a bit louder this time.
And still she's unaware as she thrashes and sobs.
He lets go of her hand, and instead puts a hand either side of her face, forcing her to look at him with those beautiful eyes, currently lined with red.
"Madge, I love you," She shakes her head and more tears leak out of her eyes, "I do, please believe me. I'm sorry that I've hurt you, and I know you shouldn't forgive me for what I've done, what I'm still doing, but godamnit, I love you. And you have to know, Madge, it's you, not Katniss. Sure, it's taken me 7 years to figure that out, but it's true. I need you, and I want you, and I think you should know that. It's always been you, Madge. Always. Even when I didn't know it,"
She watches him, her eyes wide but critical.
"Don't you dare lie to me, Gale Hawthorne, or I swear-"
He cuts her off with a kiss, not gentle anymore, but fiery and fervent, pouring all his feelings, all those words into the kiss, willing her to believe. He knows she does when she clings to him and deepens the kiss. They come up for air, and he busies himself with planting kisses all over her face and neck, breathlessly repeating I love you I love you I love you over and over. He finally pulls away.
"Say it, please. I need to hear you say it," he whispers as he tucks her hair behind her ear. She bites her lip, still wary of saying those words to him, the notion foreign and alien to her. But when she looks into his eager and pleading eyes, she smiles and sighs,
"I love you,"
Sunlight filters through the window, wan but golden. Madge stretches and yawns, revelling in her perfect dream. The image of Gale's lips forming those 3 perfect words lingers in her mind, making her feel warm and content. She rolls over and almost screams in surprise when she sees Gale lounging on her bed, right next to her, watching her with his silver eyes. He smirks.
"Surprised to see me?" he laughs, reaching over to stroke her face. She clasps his hand.
"I thought it was a dream," her cheeks reddening in embarrassment.
"So did I," he admits. "But then I woke up, and there you were, beautiful as always,"
They lay in each other's arms for an hour or so, occasionally sharing soft, sweet kisses, lost in their own secret paradise. Gale murmurs in her ear,
"Guess what?"
"Mmmm?" she hums, enjoying the feel of his hands running through her hair.
"Merry Christmas," he grins. Oh! She had completely forgotten about Christmas in the, well, excitement of last night and this morning. For the first time in years, sadness didn't wash over her at the thought of Christmas. So, she said 5 words that she had never really meant before, but she did now, with all her heart.
"And a Happy New Year,"
This oneshot has been inspired by winter, Christmas, and the song 'The Last Time' by Taylor Swift ft Gary Lightbody (go listen to it, it's beautiful)
I know I haven't updated in MONTHS and I am a horrible person, but I do have reasons, which I've posted on my profile, so go check that out.
Hope you enjoyed this little fluffy Gadge Christmas one shot, Christmas hats to you all for reading!