Disclaimer: All stories are individuals of themselves and are unrelated to each other.
A/N: For Swishywillow!
Gale sighed, lowering the newspaper that he had been reading over. There was another bombing in District 8 and another hundred people had died. Madge looked up from where she was washing dishes in the sink and cocked an eyebrow at him.
"What's wrong?"
"Nothing," he muttered. He didn't like to talk to her about these sorts of things. "Don't worry about it."
Madge frowned instantly, allowing the bowl she'd been scrubbing to slide back into the sudsy water. "I'm your wife," she said, drying her hands on a towel before throwing it onto the counter. "We're supposed to communicate."
"You're my wife," Gale repeated. "My Capitol assigned partner that I had no say in choosing. This is a legal binding that I had no part in." Madge's frown deepened and she crossed the room to him, resting her hands on her hips. "I don't have to communicate with you."
"Gale," she sighed loudly and shook her head. "We've been wed for months now, don't you think you should stop this… this hostility you have toward me?" He watched as the frustration in her eyes eased into something softer, some sort of quiet sadness she never let bubble to the surface. "Maybe the Capitol assigned us to be married but that doesn't mean I don't care about you."
He shifted awkwardly in his chair and slid the newspaper across the table to her. "There was a bombing in 8," he murmured. She snatched up the faded yellow paper and quickly scanned the words. "I'm just frustrated."
She lowered the paper and smiled at him slightly. "See. Was that so hard?"
"Don't push it," Gale frowned.
"Whether you care about me or not," Madge said, her eyes darting to the paper she had just set down, "I truly care about you. And I like hearing you talk, hearing about how you think." She lifted her shoulders into some sort of shrug. "I'm sorry that you're frustrated. Is there something I can do to help?" People have been dying left and right in 8, it wouldn't be much longer until it started happening in 12 too. With a sigh, Gale jerked his head to the side. "Alright. Well if you ever need to vent… I mean I am your wife."
"Noted," he nodded. Before she could return to the sink to finish the dishes he cleared his throat awkwardly. "I care about you," he said.
She smiled sweetly, the kind of smile that can never be forced, and tipped her head forward. "Noted," she echoed.