Disclaimer: All stories are individuals of themselves and are unrelated to each other.
Gale lets out a deep sigh, staring down at the notebook on the table. His scratchy handwriting is tragic compared to her elegant loops, but the numbers are right, and the message is clear. He taps the end of his pen on the paper and chews the inside of his cheek.
"What's wrong?" Madge's voice rings out. He glances up through his bangs – he really needs a haircut – and offers a quick smile. Nothing. But she knows better than that, of course she does. She's his wife; she knows everything about Gale from his fake laugh all the way to his forced smiles. "Gale," Madge sighs and crosses the room to him.
It doesn't take her long. The floorboards groan underneath her feet. They live in the Seam. An old house probably rotting somewhere just waiting to cave in. The ceiling leaks, the pipes creak. Hardly cost a thing, considering the last family that lived here all died and the home belonged to the government then.
"Nothing," Gale actually says this time. His voice is heavy. Madge loops her fingers around him and lowers her chin to his shoulder from behind. She stares down at the book he's left open, her blue eyes narrowing as they work to figure out why he's upset. "Madge," he tries.
Her voice catches in her throat. "Is that how much money we have?" she breathes.
Hesitantly, Gale tips his head forward. He feels her suck in sharply and he tries his hardest not to move. They're rolling in money. At least, as much money as they possibly can. With two adults who work fulltime jobs, Gale in the mines and Madge at the school, they've saved up more than he ever thought possible.
They can afford a house in town. He knows it. And now, she knows it too.
"When do we start packing?" he mutters, finally getting Madge's grip to loosen a bit.
She's wanted this for as long as he can remember, and he's wanted it too. Not for himself, but for her. Madge deserves a roof that doesn't drip whenever it rains, a place that has electricity all through the night so she can stay up and read without straining her eyes and using the candlelight.
"Gale," she lowers herself into the seat next to him, stretching out her hand and grabbing his. "Come on, don't do that."
"Don't do what?" he asks. His voice is hollow. "You've been eyeing that one house on Main Street for months, Madge. We'll put money on it in the morning. Move in as soon as we can."
Madge narrows her eyes and gives Gale a look that upsets his stomach. Not exactly anger or annoyance. Something like pity, or maybe confusion.
"We're not even going to talk about it?"
"What's there to talk about?" he grunts. "We're moving into town. You want the house."
"But you don't," Madge protests. Her voice washes over him gently and brings an ache to his temples.
She's right. He doesn't.
"That's not true—"
"It is true, Gale," Madge says softly. She squeezes his fingers. "I can see it in your eyes."
"It doesn't matter what I want," Gale tells her. He drops his eyes down to their intertwined hands and the ache spreads. "It matters what you want. You're my wife. I want to make you happy."
That much is true.
Ever since their wedding, ever since they moved into the Seam, he's watched the light fade from her eyes day by day. Madge had to give up everything for him. Her pretty dresses, her hot showers, her goose feather pillows. All of it, for him. She's never, not once, complained about her sacrifices. But Gale knows she's good at biting her tongue.
"Talk to me," she pleads. Madge is quiet, but he can hear the sadness ringing through her tone. He won't even look at her. "Gale, please talk to me."
"There's nothing to talk about," he says. His voice bursts with annoyance. "You want the house, we're getting the—"
"Gale!" Madge cries out his name, causing him to look up. His throat suddenly feels dry at the thought of upsetting her. "You don't want to move," she says. Not a question, just a statement. She can read him better than any book. "Why not?"
Of course it doesn't make sense to her, she grew up in town. She grew up in a safe secure home, in a place where there was never any coal dust staining the mirrors and a place where she didn't have to boil the water to make it warm enough to bathe in.
He knows she won't accept anything less than a full answer, so he gives her one.
"I grew up in the Seam," Gale finally admits tiredly. "All my life I pictured everything happening here, in the Seam. A wife, kids, all of it." He shakes his head, trying to make sense of his thoughts. "And I know it'd be better in town. Cleaner air, warmer on the cold nights," he lets out a deep sigh. "I don't know. It's just not what I thought I'd…" he trails off, knowing his words sound ridiculous. "You want the house," he finally murmurs. "We're getting the house."
Madge is quiet for a moment, not that she's ever really loud, but the kind of quiet that makes even him pause. She glances down at the numbers in the notebook again, and her thumb rubs the callused part of his palm.
"If we move into town we won't have much spending money," she tells him. "Having to pay all the extra bills and whatnot. Plus it's farther from your work, and your mother." Gale cocks an eyebrow. "Posy, too. Can you imagine her face if we moved so far away?"
"It's a fifteen minute walk, Madge," Gale mutters. "That's not—"
"I like it here," she cuts him off. Gale narrows his eyes, tipping his head to the side. "It's not what I… it's not what I thought I'd be doing with my life, but it's home now."
His chest is still tight. "You deserve better."
"And so do you," she soothes him. "But you want this. And I want you."
Gale's lips quirk. "You already have me."
"And you come with this," Madge says, gesturing to their house. "It's small and dingy, sure," she sighs. Her eyes scan over the ceiling. "And there are a few things that need to be fixed. But Gale, this is where I want to be."
This time when his lips quirk he really smiles, watching the light resurface a bit in her eyes. "Well what are we going to do with all this money, then?"
"Repairs," Madge shrugs. She slides off of her chair and over onto Gale's lap, resting herself on his knee. "I'm running low on soap."
"Soap," he smirks. Gale leans over her, kissing Madge once. "On my list, then." He'll pick some up at the Hob tomorrow.
"And hot cocoa," she adds. He grins, sliding his hand up her cheek and pulling her back towards him. "It's been awhile since we had hot cocoa." Gale nods as their lips collide again. "Oh," Madge gasps into his mouth, causing Gale to pull away curiously. "Get Posy a doll," Madge tells him. "A nice one. With a dress and everything."
"Okay," he nods. His nose brushes hers and Gale feels her cheeks heat up. "Are you sure? If you want to move then we—"
"Gale," Madge sighs, threading her fingers through his hair. "This is home."