Disclaimer: All stories are individuals of themselves and are unrelated to each other.
"You don't get it," he growls at her. Gale paces the small closet in front of her, careful to avoid the lump of Madge Undersee on the ground. "This place is a glorified mine shaft.People are acting as though District 13 is safe but I know better than that."
Madge sits quietly and listens to him rant. They're supposed to be in Reflection right now but Gale is never any good at that, and Madge hates silence more than she hates the sight of an open flame. She lets him vent.
"I feel like I'm fucking suffocating," he continues, throwing his hands into the air. "Like there's no space anywhere and—"
"We're in a closet," Madge cuts him off gently. He freezes in his step and turns down to look at her, his face filled with disbelief. "Perhaps a larger room would suit you."
Gale snorts and then groans, dropping down to the spot next to her. "That was unnecessary," he tells her. Her shoulders lift slightly. Even in the closet he feels too far away from her, not that she'd ever admit it. She likes the small spaces. "You were never in the mines, Undersee," Gale murmurs. He drags his hands through his hair and shakes his head. "It was terrifying. And now it's a never ending fear just… just thumping in the back of my head all dammed day."
"Hey," Madge quiets him, sliding out her hand and capturing his. Gale halts at the contact, his eyes diverting to stare at their link. "We're okay here." Gale doesn't move for a while, he just stares at their hands. "At least it's better than 12, right?"
"Yeah," he finally exhales. Gale twists his hand in hers and laces their fingers before lifting his gaze.
"And be grateful you get to go to the surface with Katniss to hunt," Madge sighs. She drops her head backwards against a shelf and hits a box of pencils. "I don't even want to think about the last time I saw sunlight." She can still remember it, really. The fading white light as the roof of 13 closed, the elevator descending slowly. "Or breathe fresh air."
"I don't think we've ever gotten to breathe fresh air," Gale mutters. At that Mage laughs, and Gale's mouth curves slightly upward. Gale suddenly feels sour, his stomach turning inside him. "You're right, I shouldn't be complaining."
"No, it's not that," Madge protests. He's allowed to complain. She likes listening to him rant, listening to the rise and fall of his voice.
"It's exactly that," Gale shrugs. The mayor's daughter isn't so privileged anymore, with the loss of both her parents alongside the rest of her District, and he's beginning to think she never really was. "You're right. We're okay here."
Gale makes sure to bring her back a flower from next time he's above ground.