Disclaimer: All stories are individuals of themselves and are unrelated to each other.
Living together was a necessity. They were both broke after the war ended and needed to save some money. And moving to District 2 was a necessity. Neither could face their ruined District or those back in 12.
But going to the bar together was a choice. And the drinking was a choice.
"We don't have enough money for this, Undersee," Gale scolded her playfully as Madge sipped at her cocktail.
"I didn't pay for it," she told him. "That nice man over there bought it for me."
Gale lifted an eyebrow as Madge giggled, tossing her golden hair over her shoulder. "How'd you manage that?"
"Told him it was my birthday," she grinned. Gale tugged the glass out of her hand and tipped the alcohol down his throat. "Hey," Madge stuck out her bottom lip and frowned. "That was mine."
"It's your birthday, Blondie," Gale said loudly. "I'm sure someone can buy you a drink."
Madge opened her mouth to protest but instantly others were shouting out their cheers. Drinks on me! Happy birthday, Princess! Here, have another! By the time the night was over Madge was so drunk she was hiccupping, and Gale could barely walk in a straight line.
"Gale, Gale, Gale," Madge giggled as he backed her into the corner of the elevator. "Yoooou never put the lid back on the toothpaste!"
His fingers sloppily twirled through her curls, and he fell forward as the elevator shifted. It was an old building. The elevator was rickety. "On purpose, kid."
"Don't kid me," she jabbed his chest. "I am only two years younger than you!" Gale propped himself on his forearm and hovered over her. "Or do the dishes or the laundry I alwaays do your laundry!"
"Willingly," he smirked. Gale swayed as the elevator settled on their floor. "We're here," he reached down and grabbed her wrist. "C'mon, Undersee."
They fiddled with the key for a few minutes before finally cracking it open. Madge stumbled into the apartment and tugged Gale along with her, laughing as he steadied himself on her hips.
"You never call me Madge," she joked as the door slammed shut. She tripped backwards on the couch and Gale went with her. "Call me Madge," she demanded.
The slurred state of her voice somehow sounded a bit more intoxicating than ever before. Gale grinned. "Madge," he whispered.
She fidgeted under him and laughed loudly. "You're squishing me!"
"I didn't get you a birthday present," Gale huffed, trying to shift off of her.
Again she laughed, "It's not really my birthday! You know that!" Gale shrugged and rolled off of her, falling onto the floor with a thud. "Ugh, go to bed," she told him, throwing her head back on the couch. Gale propped himself up on his elbow and looked toward her. "Why ya lookin' at me like that, Hawthorne?"
"Whens really your birthday?" he asked her.
"It's in July." Madge shook her head. "Stop lookin' at me funny!"
"You're pretty, Undersee."
"You're drunk," she laughed. And then laughed harder. "Me too. Go to bed."
He chuckled and pulled his free hand through his hair. "Come with me."
"Drunk, drunk, drunk," Madge repeated. "Absolutely not!"
"I'll just hold you," he said, nodding his head. "That's all I swear. Lemme hold you, Madge. You're so pretty."
Madge rolled her eyes with a laugh and somehow forced herself to her feet. She held out her hand and managed to get Gale on his feet too. Again he was swaying, using her hips to steady himself. He dropped his head down into her hair.
"Smell good, too, like fancy shampoo," he added. Madge giggled as his lips grazed her skin. "Madge," Gale hummed. She led him to his room. "How do you put up with me? I'm such a bum."
"You're my bum," she teased.
"No, your bum is right here," he reached down and pinched her rear.
"Oh!" Madge jumped and laughed, turning the two of them so Gale ended up falling on his mattress. "Go, to, bed! You are entirely too drunk!"
But Gale had a grip on her and she somehow ended up next to him. Before she could wiggle her way out Gale slipped his arms around her and pressed her body to his.
"I get it, I get it," Gale whispered. "Go to bed."
"You're drunk," Madge repeated tiredly, though still wearing a soft smile.
"And it's your birthday," he purred. His lips found her shoulder and he pressed a quick kiss to her skin. Maybe in the morning he'd tell her how much of a necessity she really was.