Heat
Nine tributes are left in the game by the time Gale wakes up.
He hears the television on in the other room, and Rory asking his mother if they've got any bread left. She replies that they don't, but they've got some berries left.
His life seemed destined to be this. From the beginning, a constant struggle for base necessities. He can't imagine any other life. All of them living in the tangy blood-red hunger and haze of coal dust. He works until his fingers ache and his muscles scream and his eyes blur from the dark.
There is a reason so many in the Seam preach that this life is only a prequel. Because it's impossible to believe that this suffering is all there is.
Gale isn't sure what he believes - but he knows he sure as hell doesn't believe in just accepting this hell he lives in. The poor, decrepit roads and the shabby, run-down buildings only made him angrier. He wanted to make those Capitol citizens, particularly the ones that made back-handed comments at his mother and his house, pay.
The more he thought about it, the angrier he got. At the core of that anger, beating out all the other reasons, was the spectacle given to a bloodbath. A bloodbath that had taken away countless lives over the course of 74 years, and would probably continue for as long as it was allowed.
Nine were left. Katniss has allied with a little girl from District Eleven. It startlingly reminds him of Prim, and a bit of Posy. It's jarring, and he chooses to just thank any god that exists that she's still alive.
He has let the tiny possibility that Katniss might actually come home enter the back of his mind. The thought of actually seeing her again makes him feel - well, he's not sure.
He takes a deep breath, knowing that he's got to get moving or he'll be late. The sun isn't up yet, the house is dark, save the bare lightbulb in the kitchen.
He stares at his uniform sitting on the hook on the door.
Always living under the forced festivities, she almost forgets what real smiles look like.
The betting, the banter, the outfits. Her house is not hers anymore. She knows the only reason they're still here is because Katniss and Peeta are both still alive. No one wants to stay in a losing district.
She dreamt about Katniss the night before. She was running through the woods behind her, through the trees. Katniss was running so fast, and Madge had shouted at her to slow down, but she only looked back and laughed. Suddenly, Katniss had stopped. Gale jumped down from a tree, and his eyes widened when he saw Katniss. Katniss ran into Gale's arms, and they hugged tightly.
"Gale." She had said. But he did not hear her. He only whispered something in Katniss' ear and Katniss had laughed. Madge had started to back away, and then was suddenly trapped in a rope hunting trap. She yelled at both Gale and Katniss to help her get out, but they did not hear her. They walked away, back the way her and Katniss had come, and Madge watched them leave.
She felt sick to her stomach as she walked to school that morning. She knew exactly what the dream meant - and hated herself for it. Katniss was fighting for her life, fighting to the death in that unforgiving arena every minute. And the tiny, horrible voice in the back of Madge's head dreaded the day Katniss Everdeen would return to District Twelve and claim what was hers.
She sees into Delly Cartwright in back of the school, kissing Finn Porter, whose father supplies the miners with their axes. She sees Tessa and Leevy and a few other girls from the Seam walking up the steps a few strides ahead of her, chatting. She sees the dirty hallways and the teachers' droopy eyes and cups of coffee. It's all normal.
But she's starting to hate normal. It's getting more and more difficult to find the positivity she tried to bring to everything. She's getting tired.
She sits in class and lets people talk at her like always as she picks at the hem of her brown school dress.
The dead of summer is far too hot. Madge reads about how in the history books, before the uprising and the districts, that kids used to have vacations over the three months of heat. But this started because of farming, or something, and it isn't needed in the coal-mining district.
So she's spent the day inside, with all the windows open (hoping for some cross-ventilation) and the smallest clothing she could get away with wearing without feeling too self-conscious around her father.
But her father had left with the reporters to interview Katniss' family again, about her progress so far.
It's Sunday - Gale's day off. Her mother's door has been closed since late last night, and Isla's not due back to the house until tomorrow. She sits at the white, spotless counter in the kitchen, holding all her hair up above so the breeze can hit her neck.
He arrives at her doorstep with strawberries and a smile, and she can't help jumping into his arms as soon as she opens the back door. This is the first time she's gotten to see him in a week, and he drops the pail of strawberries and catches her tightly.
"Hey." He says, his voice sounding lighter than it ever had.
He's perplexed at the way his heart jumped when Madge's little body hits his and her hair flies into his face when she throws herself at him. But he doesn't spend the time to question it, or even think at all. It's the happiest he's felt in days.
"Hey." She repeats, finally letting go and touching her feet back onto the ground.
He will never get over how nice her house is in comparison to his. He still looks at the high ceilings and all the rooms like a stranger. The pristine countertops and shiny floors. He can't help shove his hands in his pockets and follow her closely, afraid to touch anything.
They sit on the couch in front of the window, taking turns eating the strawberries he collected for them today. He meant to bring them home - that's still weighing on his conscience - but he wanted to do something nice for her, that wasn't just business.
She's wearing a blue sundress, one of his favorites. He's not in his mining uniform, and it feels nice to be able to wear shorts. He tells her this.
"Is it hot down there?" She asks.
"The heat is the least of the problems." He mutters.
He watches her bite her lip. Sounds of kids hollering float in from somewhere far away outside. A bird chirps in response.
"I worry about you." She confesses quietly.
He isn't sure what to say to that. He doesn't want her to worry about him or the creases above her eyebrows to worsen. He remembers what he's got in his pocket.
"I got you something." He says.
"What?" She replies, startled, and then insists, "Gale, you don't have to - "
"It's for you." In the palm of his hand is a small, woven bracelet of twigs and flower stems. It's simple, brown and green and natural and smelling of the meadow.
It took him all yesterday - he had set out all his traps and just made it back from beyond the fence. He picked the flowers with the thickest stems to parcel out between strong twigs to hold it all together.
He slides it onto her wrist. "It might not last very long, but - "
"It's beautiful." She says, her voice thick. She stares down at it, and then up at him. "Thank you."
Before he can respond, she pushes him down on the couch roughly, her small hands forcing his chest down.
"Madge - ?"
She climbs on top of him, straddling his hips. His protest dies in his throat.
He's so tall, his shoulders so broad. She likes the feeling of being so much smaller than him.
His eyes widen, and for a second her confidence falters. But his hands come up on both sides to hold her thighs, and he looks up at her. She leans down, letting her hair fall like a curtain around the two of them, and kisses him.
She think this is by far her new favorite thing - kissing. It warms her from the inside out, and Gale's hands... his rough, callused, big hands over her skin is her new favorite feeling.
Her fingers work to get all the buttons of his shirt open, and slide over his bare abdomen. His body tenses with a shiver. She wonders why - it's not cold at all.
He has a trail of soft, fine hair from his belly button leading down. Tentatively, she runs her hands over his chest.
She likes his stomach. And his arms are quite nice, too.
Her dress hikes up higher, her thighs exposed and a little above that too. His tongue licks the inside of her mouth and she presses herself against his chest.
He really doesn't think he can be held accountable for his actions from this point on. Madge has literally climbed on top of him. Madge, the girl who's supposedly never gone out on a date before. Fuck, he can barely breathe.
The tips of his fingers touch something lacy-feeling under her dress.
He's no virgin - he's had more than his fair share of nights down at the Slag Heap. But there it was all fumbling around in the dark. Not that he'd ever had any complaints, quite the opposite, but he didn't ever expect to talk to any of those girls after that. He was not self-conscious, but he was wishing to not rush things with Madge.
It's seemed like that was going to be more of a problem then he'd thought. Due to the fact that she was sexy as hell and willing.
His fingers inched higher. A figurative whistle rang in his mind, and he knew he needed to get a grip.
"Um." He blurts out, sitting up and getting out from under her swiftly.
He makes the mistake of looking down at her, though. Her hair is messily splayed out around her shoulders, her lips are a little swollen, her chest is heaving and her shoulder is sticking out of the collar of her dress. And she's like a magnet, he physically can't pull himself any farther away.
But it isn't until she chokes, "What?" that he snaps.
He pins her down, shifting their positions so that he can prop himself up on his elbows and keep kissing her. The way he feels about her isn't human - it's depraved. She's so innocent and pure, and some sick part of him wants to dirty that up.
Her legs curl around his back, him now completely on top of her. And it rips through him; this animalistic need for her. Her lips suck at the skin on his jaw. It's rough, like it hasn't been shaved in a couple days. He makes a low noise from deep in the back of his throat that makes her ache, maybe for something more -
The sound of the front door opening sends Gale pushing off her reflexively.
She looks at him with wide, frightened eyes for a second before she jumps up off the couch, pushing him out onto the back porch. She gives him a hurried instruction to wait and runs back inside the house, straightening her dress haphazardly. She can tell her hair is mussed, and she's breathing too hard.
Isla appears just as Madge is walking into the kitchen.
"Hey." Madge tries to say as casually as she can muster. "What are you doing here on a Sunday?"
"Your father's having a big feast tomorrow and I thought it best if I did the extra shopping in advance." Isla says. She puts two paper grocery bags on the counter, and then stops and looks at Madge quizzically.
"Are you alright dear?"
"Yes, why wouldn't I be?"
Isla narrows her eyes, starting to unpack the food. "You just look sort of... winded."
"It's really... really hot, that's all." Madge stutters out. "I'm going to go out to the porch."
Without another word, Madge hurries back out. Gale stands next to the wall, the door missing him as Madge flings it open in a panic. His shirt is still hanging open and his hair is sticking up in the back.
His arms are crossed and he looks at her for an answer, but all she can do is let out a deep breath and thank god that Isla didn't come in the back way. Gale catches onto this, and exhales in kind.
She saunters over to him, her mouth curving up a little in a breathless smile.
He lets out a breath of a laugh, and leans his forehead against hers. She laughs too.
She buttons back up his shirt, and he thanks her. She contemplates apologizing for the interruption, and she voices that. He laughs again, being both disappointed and relieved things stopped there.
"See you, Madge." He finally says, giving her a last kiss.
She kisses him back, and doesn't let go of his hand until he's on the last step of the porch. "See you."
A/N: Swerve! Sorry that stayed PG-13 guys. It's all integral to the story, unfortunately. And I know this chapter had very little meat in it, but believe me, the next few will be heavy. So enjoy the happy now!
And I just finished mapping out the rest of this story, and it looks like it's going to be a little AU (but being me, I'm trying to stick as close to canon as I can), going through Catching Fire and Mockingjay. Hopefully this makes some readers happy :)
Of course, thanks to everyone that reviewed the last chapter. I hope people are liking my take on Gale and Madge's relationship, and continue to read and review in the future!
Please review!