In my opinion, we all needed a little more Katniss/Gale lurrrve. Also; I hated Gale's character development in Mockingjay (if you can even call is development) so this is the Gale I think I knew before Collins destroyed him to make way for Peeta.

Page. 285—Mockingjay

Following the dinner where Peeta joins Katniss, Gale, Delly and Joanna; Gale walks Katniss back to her compartment.

"I told you he hated me," I say. Gale and I have just reached my compartment, after our tense little dinner of beef stew with Peeta.
"It's the way he hates you. It's so... familiar. I used to feel like that," he admits. "When I'd watch you kissing him on the screen. Only I knew I wasn't being entirely fair. He can't see that."
We reach my door.
"Maybe he just sees me as I really am. I have to get some sleep." I say, my hand hovering above the handle on the door. I honestly do need sleep, it's just the fact that I won't that keeps my hand hovering. I twist the handle, making a move into my compartment.
Gale catches my arm before I can disappear. "So that's what you're thinking now?" He asks. I shrug. "Katniss, as your oldest friend, believe me when I say he's not seeing you as you really are." He kisses my cheek and turns to leave. But this time it's my turn to grab his arm.

He turns back slowly, as if apprehensive of what I might say. Gale and I haven't been on the best terms of late; it's a tense time for all of us.
"Katniss?" He says quietly, a question. Why are you grabbing my arm? My eyes have been trained on the floor, but when I look up to meet his, I lose my composure. "I won't sleep, Gale. I never sleep." Only when I have Peeta to hold me, I add in my head, but I don't say this.
His eyes drop to my hold on his arm for just a second, before they come back up to hold my gaze. I can see the cogs turning in his head... Is she asking what I think she's asking?
I know Gale. I know he's strong and brave and brutal when necessary. But I also know he's careful and loving.
"Stay with me." I whisper to him. My heart gives a little twist as I repeat words I said to Peeta. Peeta, who is no longer alive... at least, not the Peeta I know.
Gale gives a slight nod, warily observing me, but I can see a smile playing across his lips.

He pushes open the door between us, leading me into my compartment. I move my hand from his forearm and slip it into his warm palm. Gale gives it a little squeeze, before setting me on the couch and moving towards the kitchen. He gets out a mug as well as the milk and goes about boiling a small amount of it. He doesn't need to ask, he already knows I like warm milk. That coffee disgusts me, that I'm impartial to tea; that I prefer orange juice only in the morning. As he moves about the kitchen, his broad back to me, I wonder what he makes of our situation. I'm so desperate for sleep, and I know that lying silently, and alone, night after night, is not going to help. I think back to my days trapped in a train or an arena, when I had Peeta with me every night. Nights that would never happen, ever again. Not with Peeta wanting to kill me and all. But this isn't just about Peeta, it's about Gale, too. Gale, my best friend, who I seem to be unhappy with more often than not. Gale, who should be my rock, who wants to be my rock, but I keep shutting him out. It's not making me any happier, and Gale's definitely not enjoying it either. So why not give in Katniss? Just give in. Let go.

"What are you thinking about?" Gale's voice startles me. He stands before me, holding out a warm mug of milk; his eyes searching mine nervously, worrying. Caring.
I muster a smile. "How much I felt like warm milk." I say, reaching out and cupping my hands around the mug. He seems to release a breath he'd been holding.
He takes a seat next to me. "Are you okay, Katniss?" he says, his voice husky.
"I'm... fine." But really I feel like I might faint from fatigue.
"What is this?" He asks. I could act confused. What do you mean, Gale? But he's not stupid and he knows I'm not either. I let out a sigh, holding on to my mug for strength. I need to get this out, then sleep.
"Gale, it's obvious things haven't been... right, since I got back. Hell, things haven't been right since the moment Prim's name was drawn at the reaping." Gale's hand finds mine, giving me support. He's silent beside me, giving me my time. "But I'm sick of fighting. It's getting us nowhere, Gale. It just makes all this," I gesture wildly around the room with my free hand, "so much more difficult." I take a sip of my milk, wanting to calm myself.
I lower my voice, ducking my head. "None of this has been fair on you, Gale. Peeta and I... I don't know what I was doing, what I was thinking. All I know is that I was surviving. I know I love him," I feel Gale flinch a little beside me, like he's taken a blow, "but I also know I love you." I struggle with whether that was the right thing to say or not. "But right now, I don't know who I am, or what I'm doing. I'm just trying to get through all this, and it's much easier when we have each other." I finally meet his eyes, boring into mine. I wonder if he understands what I'm saying. I feel tears coming, my nose prickling, but it's all numbed when Gale's lips come down on mine. It's brief, like a small shower after a long summer drought. I want to pull him back to me but gets up off the couch, taking the empty mug from my hands and returning it to the sink in the kitchen. He hasn't said a thing, and for a moment I wonder if he's going to leave.
"Okay, Katniss." He says finally, before taking my hand and leading me to my bed.
"How about you get some sleep. Isn't that the reason I'm here?" He smiles and I think maybe I still have him, that I haven't scared him off. He gently pushes me on the bed, unlacing my boots, pulling my jumper over my head, slipping off my shorts. For I moment I think maybe he's going to take off my underclothes, too, but he doesn't. I toss around in my mind whether I wanted him to or not. Gale pulls his shirt over his head, and I take a moment just to drink him in. His chest is so broad, well-sculpted, and it leads down to a waist sporting that 'v' muscle I'm so partial to. Something deep down in the pit of my stomach stirs. I know if he turned, his back would be riddled with angry scares, but I try to push his previous pain to the back of my mind. Right here, right now, he is not in pain. He is unharmed, with me.
I slip under the covers. On another night, they would barely scrape by as enough protection from the bitter cold of the night. But not tonight. Tonight, I would have Gale. The thought brings a smile to my sleepy face as he slides in beside me, my back to him. He's so warm I wonder if I'll even need blankets tonight. His arms wrap around me and I'm cradled into his body, fitting together like a puzzle piece. It's different to Peeta, not better or worse, just different. His fingers traced patterns up and down my body, touching me so light, sometimes I wonder if I'm imagining it.
"I've dreamt about this Katniss." He whispers into my ear.
His voice makes my head spin, and for a moment I think I may already be asleep, dreaming. My words are so quiet, I wonder if he hears me, "Me too."

I have just one nightmare, one where I woke up and Gale was gone, a bloody trail leading from my bed to my door. But he wasn't, and he held me so tight that my arms could barely thrash. He murmured It's okay over and over until I had calmed, then kissed my neck. When I was composed again, my nightmare far gone, I turned in his arms to face him. I kissed his lips, rejuvenated, even though it was still early morning and I'd had maybe five hours sleep. He kissed me back and suddenly it wasn't gentle or wary anymore. It was fierce, passionate; something different to Peeta. I broke off only when I needed air, and Gale's lips moved to my neck, exploring my body. I felt like every inch of my body he touched was on fire, my nerves on alarm. He was experienced, knowing the right places to touch. For some reason, it made me more eager, wanting to please him. Our limbs wrapped together, becoming one. Sheets tangled.

When the sun rose hours later, we had little energy left. Gale was still asleep, a smile on his lips. He was so beautiful. I lifted my hand to brush away a stray hair on his forehead, my finger tracing his face, his jaw line, his lips. When his eyes fluttered opened, still dreamy with sleep, his smile became a grin.
"I could get used to this." He whispered, taking me by the waist and pulling me to him.

Let's admit it, Gale's sexy. I know he's no sensitive baker, but pfft, who wants a girly man anyway.

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