Disclaimer: All stories are individuals of themselves and are unrelated to each other.
"Catch."
Gale tosses a packet with some sort of muffin at Madge who is so hyped up on coffee she's swats it onto the table. They've been in the library for the past fourteen hours and the sun is just now beginning to rise. Screw finals. She yawns despite the fact that her brain is wired and opens the packet with shaking hands. She needs sleep.
"Where'd you get it?" she asks.
"They're handing them out in the lobby," he says. "It's your favorite flavor."
Madge pulls out the muffin and even in the hazy state that she's in she knows that this is not her favorite. "This is blueberry," she says. Gale nods. "I hate blueberries, Gale."
"No," he frowns, dropping into the cushioned purple chair across from her. "Since when? They've always been your favorite." She closes the packet and sets it back on the table, returning to her now-cold coffee instead and hoping that it manages to subdue the ache in her stomach and stop her hands from twitching. "When we went to the dining hall that one time you freaked out when they had blueberry waffles, remember? And then I bought you that blueberry ice cream when you got sick."
Madge frowns, too. "That most definitely was not me." She glances at the muffin before pushing across the table to him. "I like strawberries."
His eyebrows crease and un-crease as he stares at her. "Shit." She's right. It wasn't her. "Shit."
"Confusing your ex-girlfriends with your current girlfriend?" Madge mutters. She reaches forward and slams shut the chemistry book she'd been studying all night and forces herself to stand. "I'm going to my dorm," Madge says. "I should get some sleep sooner or later."
"Madge," Gale groans. He gathers his books quickly and shoves them into his backpack, quickly following her from the library. "Undersee, wait up!" People glare at him as his voice echoes off the stacks and he waves them off, rushing after her. She spins around to face him when they're outside, the cold December wind whipping between the two of them. "Jesus Christ I've almost been awake 24 hours," he says. "Give me a break, Madge."
"It doesn't matter," she says back, tightly crossing her arms over her chest. He notices that she's still shaking, maybe from the cold or that her brain is starting to go. "I need to go to bed before I pass out."
"Then come to my dorm."
"No."
"Madge," he groans again as she starts walking away. "What's the big deal? You know I've dated other girls and have never cared before."
"You've never confused me with one of them before," she snaps. He knows the sleep deprivation and high amounts of caffeine running through her veins and stress of finals between the two of them is not helping the situation. "How much did you care about her, Gale? That you bought her blueberry ice cream when she was sick? Last time I got sick you told me to go back to bed and wait for it to pass!" He pulls her to a stop and finds tears welling up in her eyes. "I'm sorry," she croaks. "I just, I've n-never been—"
"Hey," he whispers. "Come on. I know you're tired."
"It's more than that!" Gale pulls Madge toward him by the loops of her jeans and she looks away slightly. "God, it's everything."
"Come on," he murmurs, glancing over her shoulder back toward the library. "Let's go to my dorm and we can talk, okay?" She nods into his chest as he brushes her hair soothingly. "Okay. Okay, good, let's go." He tries to hold her hand on the walk over but she crosses her arms tightly over her chest. He signs her into the building and they take the elevator in silence. Thom, Gale's roommate, is not there when they get to his room, and Madge immediately bursts into tears the second the door is shut. "Madge, baby, no—"
"It's so hard, Gale," she cries, sinking onto his mattress. "God, being your girlfriend is practically impossible!"
"What? Madge—" he lowers himself to the spot next to her. "What are you talking about?"
"You've dated about thirty seven other girls," she murmurs, wiping at her eyes awkwardly, "and you got tired of all of them, who's to say you won't get tired of me? You remember things about them but not about me and that just screams that I'm uninteresting and not worth your thoughts and—"
"Madge, I forgot your favorite fruit," he whispers. "You want to know everything I remember about you?" Before she even responds he's speaking. "I know that you are the first girl I've ever dated that I've taken home to meet my family. You're the only girl who's ever stayed the night here in this dorm with me, or any dorm, because I haven't wanted any of them to. Your favorite color is purple and your favorite band is The Slag Heap and you would rather go to a play than to a movie because you think they're more fun."
"Gale—"
"You're the first girlfriend I've had that I've kissed without the intention of having sex later that night, the first girl I've taken on a date. When you got sick I didn't bring you ice cream because you don't like ice cream. I gave you my Netflix password and had a paper to write and told you I'd be over as soon as I could and came over the next day and we watched the first season of The Walking Dead and brought lemon tea. You like sushi and want to go out dancing and once forgot your umbrella in my car and skipped class because you didn't want to walk in the rain." Her chin quivers as he reaches over, brushing her hair from her face. "You remember everyone's birthdays and your favorite TV show is Once Upon a Time and sometimes in your free time you take pictures but you never show them to me because you don't think they're good enough."
"Gale," she tries again.
"Madge, I love you, and I swear I will never forget that you hate blueberries and love strawberries again, okay?"
"Okay," she whispers.
"And to be fair," he murmurs, "I've only ever dated four other girls. Not thirty seven."
"Okay," she laughs weakly. "I'm sorry," Madge tries again. "I'm just so tired and these finals are killing me and I never feel like I'm good enough for you and I just hate blueberries so much." She drops her gaze into her hands. "I love you too, you know."
"I know," he says, tugging her toward him. Gale pulls her down so they're lying on his bed and Madge instantly curls into his side. "Come on. Get some sleep." She nuzzles into his chest as his fingers pull through her hair gently. "I'll wake you up later, okay?"
"Sure," she yawns. Her body shakes against his, her skin is more pale than usual. "I'm sorry. I didn't meant to freak out—"
"Shhh," he leans down and kisses her forehead, finding it warm. She's getting sick. She's working herself sick over these finals and worrying herself sick. "Don't worry about it."
"Now you think I'm psycho," she murmurs as she drifts off.
Gale chuckles, "You've always been psycho." She laughs into his shirt as she falls asleep.
Gale watches the gentle rise and fall of her chest and feels a wave of guilt rush over him. How is it that he's let Madge think she's second best to anyone he's ever been with? It's true, she might have overreacted a little bit, but why has he given her the chance? The girl who liked blueberries was so long ago, he doesn't even remember when they dated. Does Gale look at other girls? Is that where Madge's insecurity stems? And why hasn't he crushed it yet? He eases off the bed carefully, making sure not to wake her, and smiles slightly as she curls into the spot he just was.
Madge wakes up in the afternoon and he's not beside her. She hears the clickclickclick of his laptop and eases onto her palms to find him at his desk, and then is immediately laughing. Next to where he sits studiously working on whatever it is he's working on is the largest collection of strawberry things she's ever seen. Strawberry jam and strawberry muffins and strawberry sodas and strawberry candies, candies that she's never even heard of.
Gale looks over at her with an eyebrow raised before turning back to his computer with a smile. "Sleep okay?"
"Wonderfully," she nods. Madge pushes herself out of bed and walks over to him, wrapping her arms around his shoulder and leaning down to kiss his neck. "You're an idiot," she murmurs into his skin.
"Aw, come on, I raided the campus store for this stuff," he mutters, turning to face the pile. "I didn't even know the university store sold strawberry syrup." She kisses him again but pulls him so he's facing her entirely. Gale grins into the kiss as she lowers herself onto his lap, throwing her arms around his neck while he pulls her closer. "Not a blueberry in sight," he murmurs against her lips.
"Good. I hate them."
He smiles, "Me too."
A/N: It's gadge week! Today was "thom or blueberries" and I chose blueberries. c: