Disclaimer: Most stories are individuals of themselves and are unrelated to each other.

When Thom said that she had impeccable hearing, Gale wasn't sure he really believed him.

Gale'd been hired to work at the coffee shop only recently and had been warned almost at once that the girl in the corner could hear everything. Gale had scoffed and rolled his eyes. "She's a regular," Thom pointed out at one point. "So Abernathy says we've gotta be good to her. And no shit talking, either."

Gale went about his daily business, busing tables and collecting cold and empty coffee mugs that'd been left there while the girl sat in her corner. She was always on her laptop, her fingers mindlessly dancing across the keys as she drank her coffee. In one of her ears was an earbud but the other was free, supposedly for eavesdropping if Gale was to believe Thom (which he didn't).

But one afternoon Gale made some sort of smart remark at Thom and a laugh bubbled out of the girl a few tables away. Thom made a sort of face that said I told you so before collecting the mugs and striding off.

Gale'd been working there for a few weeks at this point and the girl was consistent. She was always there before his shift began, always left after his shift ended. Working, typing, existing. He didn't even know her name.

So one day Gale strode over to the booth in the corner and cleared his throat. Her fingers paused on the keys. "Are you finished with that?" Gale asked, gesturing to her empty plate where a scone had previously sat. "I can take it off your hands, if you want."

The girl tilted her head slightly before nodding. "The plate."

"The plate," Gale confirmed. She nodded again, and then her fingers were at work again. "I was just–I've been wondering," Gale started again. "You're in here every day in the same spot working on, well, what?"

Her fingers paused again. She didn't turn to look at him. And still, she was striking. Her hair was golden like the sun, her skin a lovely pale. "Work," she answered dully.

"Descriptive."

"It's what I'm good at." And despite her gentle beauty Gale was suddenly struck with anger. He was just trying to make conversation. He snatched up the plate with a little mutter and she tipped her head toward him. "What's your name?" she asked.

Gale stood there, narrowing his eyes at her. "Can't you read?" he muttered, gesturing to his name tag.

Her eyebrows arched slightly and she turned her head even farther. Only her eyes were empty, looking past him, not looking at all. "Actually," she answered. "I can't. Because I'm blind, you asshole."

Gale had tried stammering out an apology after his tremendous mistake but she wasn't hearing it. Apparently Haymitch Abernathy, Gale's boss, was Madge's Godfather. She came to the shop every day so she could get her her schoolwork done where he could be easily accessed if she needed help considering her parents worked all day, and then Haymitch would drive her home when the shop closed.

"You could've told me she was blind you asshole," Gale snapped at Thom one afternoon.

"You could've asked," he returned, looking smug. "Gives her amazing hearing, I'm telling you. I bet she can hear us right now." Gale tipped his head over to the corner where the girl was sitting but she was unaffected, typing away without even pausing. "I was kidding," Thom said with a little laugh.

Gale knew he had to try again.

So, he crossed the room to her booth, and slowly lowered himself into the seat across from her. She paused, tipped her head slightly, and then started typing again.

"Uh," he cleared his throat. "I'm here."

"I'm blind, not stupid." Gale frowned. "Don't make that face," she added. "I don't have to see to know you're making a face." He huffed, his shoulders slumping slightly. "I get it. You feel bad. Apology accepted. Leave me alone."

But Gale didn't move. "Listen," he started.

"No, you listen," she snapped. Madge. He'd learned her name right after the incident. "You don't need to feel bad for me and I don't want you to. You made a mistake, you apologized, it's over Gale. It's not the first time it's happened and I'm sure it won't be the last."

"Can I at least make it up to you?" Gale asked. His mother didn't raise him to be an insensitive prick. And her dismissing him–he should've just left it alone. But it didn't sit right in his stomach. "Buy you a coffee, or something?"

She was quiet for a moment before her lips pulled up in a smile. "You work here," she said. "You get coffee for free."

"So do you," he tossed back. "Because you're Abernathy's niece."

"Goddaughter."

"Same thing." Gale leaned back. "Coffee, then? How do you take it?"

Madge was still quiet. She leaned back in her seat too. If she could size him up, now would be the time. "Isn't it unprofessional to ask someone on a date while you're at work?" she asked. Gale's jaw dropped, surprised at her. "Thom knows I like it," she said dismissively.

He ended up at her table almost every day after that. She continuously teased him about it being a date but he knew she was kidding. Mostly.

Madge had a dry sort of humor that made him laugh, and she had a smile that was infinitely too beautiful. It was probably a bad thing but knowing she was blind made it easier for him to look at her. Because she didn't know that he was staring. And he was. Definitely.

"Gale," she said one afternoon. "When do you get off?"

"'Bout an hour," he answered. "Why?"

"Drive me home."

It was both an order and a request. "Sure," he said with a nod.

That was how Madge ended up as a passenger in Gale's truck. Haymitch was apprehensive. He didn't like Gale very much and didn't really trust anyone with Madge. But she insisted. "I'm 19," she told her Godfather. "I can make decisions for myself. And I trust Gale."

"Well you can't see his deceiving face," Haymitch muttered in response, causing Madge to laugh.

In the truck Madge would say things like, "Turn left here." Gale couldn't tell if she was being serious or not, because, well, she couldn't see if there was even a left turn there. But eventually she told him, "I've been on this route for like, years. I know where the turns are. Don't you trust me?"

And because she trusted him enough to drive her home, he trusted her too. They ended up outside her house (she verified with address number) and Gale killed his engine. "Do you need help getting in?" he asked.

"I'm not going in yet," she answered. Gale bit back his smile, not that it mattered. Madge turned to him and for the first time since he met her she looked hesitant. "Can I…" she started. "I do this thing," she said. "Where I touch faces, to try and understand, you know? What you look like." She hesitated another time. "Would you mind if I…?"

"Not at all." Madge lifted her hand to him and he reached out to grab them. Her hands were soft and smooth and Gale lifted them to his face for her. She jumped a little when her fingers touched his cheek. "What?" he asked.

"Sorry," she said with a little laugh. "I wasn't expecting the stubble." Gale grinned. "Ah, what a smile." Gale laughed in response and the smile on Madge's face was just as bright as he felt. Her hands move on their own accord and Gale didn't mind. She was concentrating. After a few moments of silence she pulled her hands back. "You must be a heartbreaker," she said softly.

"Oh yeah?"

"Definitely." Madge smiled slightly.

"You too, then," he answered, "if we're going on looks alone."

Her laugh made him feel like a million dollars.

Gale ended up at her table every day consistently after that. He wanted to prove to her that hewasn't a heartbreaker. Okay, well, maybe he was sometimes. In high school he messed around a lot but that was mostly just him trying to sort his life out after his dad had died. Since then he hadn't even dated anyone seriously. He was too busy working and doing work for university that he didn't have the time.

But with Madge, maybe he could find the time.

When he sat with her she almost always stretched out her hand to touch his. It was familiar, and nice, and he was still adapting to her impairment but she didn't seem to mind with his little slip ups.

Like for example sometimes she would ask something and he would nod. She'd wait a moment. "Gale?"

And then he'd laugh. "Sorry. Yes. I nodded." And she'd laugh too.

Things were good.

Until he put his foot in his mouth, like usual. He was working late one night and he came over to her to collect her empty coffee mug and her plate. "Can you drive me home tonight?" she asked, and Gale said he couldn't.

"I've got to close. It'll be too late."

"I could wait, if you wanted."

"It'd just be better if you went home with Haymitch," Gale said. "I've got a shit ton of work to do anyway." Madge nodded and he gathered her things. "I want to, though." She smiled then, pressing her lips together as to not let it get too big.

And then she asked, "What about this weekend?" Gale paused. "Like, a date. A real one, not just you sitting at my table during your shift."

He wanted to. God, he wanted to. "I have so much to do this weekend," he said, lacing his voice with what he hoped sounded like disappointment. Because God, he wanted to spend time with her. Just the two of them. A date, a real one. "I've got another job all Saturday morning and then I work here afternoon into night. Same with Sunday."

"Okay," she said, nodding. "That's okay."

"I want to," Gale said, needing her to know that. "But I just can't. You don't understand how hard it can be to balance it all."

Madge paused, tipping her head slightly to the side. "Did you just say I don't know how hard it is to balance life?" she asked.

"You don't," Gale said simply, not quite understanding why she looked mad. "You're in here every day on your laptop. I've got actual shit that I have to do, as well as school work. Not all of us get the luxury of not having to work."

He watched her clench her jaw. "I don't really have that many opportunities to get a job," she grit out. "In case you forgot."

"That's not–I didn't mean it that way, Madge."

"Bullshit," she snapped. "You think because I sit here every day, that I don't have to work at a coffee shop, that my life is luxurious?" She let out a dry laugh before shaking her head again. "Forget it."

"You know I didn't mean it that way," Gale tried again, feeling himself getting angry.

"No, yes you did. You think I don't have to work hard to get what I want." Gale shifted the dishes in his hands and clenched his teeth. "You think I just sit here on my ass all day. That because I can't see then I don't have to do as much to get what I want–maybe you think people just give it to me. Well that's bullshit, and you're an asshole."

"Madge."

"Just go away." Before he could say anything else she waved her hand, "Go!"

And with a sigh, he did.

"She's a tutor." Gale kept his eyes on the cash register as Haymitch stood beside him, his voice thick with anger. "She peer-edits, actually. Papers. Because she's good at English. She's also a counselor in her spare time, helping kids who've been in accidents where they lose their vision transition into it."

"Thank you for reminding me that I fucked up," Gale muttered in response. "As if I'd forgotten, somehow."

"Choose your words, kid."

Gale cast a glance to the corner where Madge normally sat, not surprised to find it empty. She hadn't been in for the past week.

Gale bit the bullet and went to her house.

He'd driven her home enough times to get there without her directions. He felt his heart in his throat when he knocked on the front door. It took a little bit but soon someone opened the door, an older woman.

"Hello," she cheered. Must've been Madge's mom. "Can I help you?"

"Madge home?" he asked. She nodded, and hurried off to get her daughter. Gale lingered in the doorway for a few minutes before Madge arrived.

"Who is it?" she asked.

"Gale," he answered.

She paused. "Never mind. Shut the door, mom."

"Madge," he nearly groaned. She pursed her lips and crossed her arms. "Can I at least talk to you for a minute?" It took her a little bit to agree but finally they were on the front porch together, sitting on an old wooden porch swing that drifted back and forth. Finally Gale started his apology. "I will never understand what you have to go through every day. Not that–not that being blind is–I don't know how to word it."

"It's not the worst thing in the world," she filled in for him. "And I'm used to it now. But it's still hard."

"Yes. Exactly. And I'll never understand that because well–fuck, I'm not blind."

"Just an asshole."

He stopped himself before he groaned. "We have different challenges is all," he said. "And it wasn't fair of me to act like mine were more, or worse than yours. They're just different." He shook his head and sighed. "My dad passed when I was 14," he told her. "So I've been working ever since then to help my mom pay off bills. We're shit poor. I'm barely able to afford going to the community college up the road. My siblings, they're growing like weeds and we don't have enough to keep getting them new clothes. So to me… to me adversity is that. But it's different for you."

Madge was quiet for a minute. "I've been blind my whole life," she told him. "I've never known what it's like to see. I grew up learning how to interact with my surroundings, and I've been fortunate enough that my family has the money to accommodate me as well as they do." She sighed. "You're right. They're just different challenges."

"I mean–of course though, not being able to see is–I'm not trying to make it seem like my life is worse than yours or harder or lessen the severity of… Fuck, this is just–you're right, I'm just an asshole." Madge reached out then, grabbing his hand without fumbling. "I'm sorry," he said sincerely. "I understand if you want nothing to do with me."

Madge squeezed his hand. "I forgive you," she said.

He was startled. "You do?"

"I can hear it in your voice. Of course you're sorry."

"I am."

"Okay. And I forgive you."

She showed him her piano.

It took her a few tries to find the right keys, but when she played Gale could feel it. It was like color, vision was leaking from the keyboard and filling the room. He watched as she played flawlessly, wondered how she did it. Later she would explain it was tireless effort, learning the notes from braille and then transferring it again and again until she had a song memorized. Sometimes she would play by ear. Sometimes she had a headphone in that told her what key to play next. Every way was difficult but she was determined.

When her song came to an end she rested her fingers over the keys. "That's how I see," she told him.

And he understood.

"Describe it to me," she asked.

Gale had gotten his date eventually. It was a few months later after he'd proven again and again that he was sorry, that he didn't truly understand and couldn't, and when Madge agreed she didn't understand the struggles in his life either. In that, they were equal.

She was tucked into his side and were taking a walk through the park and they'd stopped when Gale mentioned the sunset.

Gale paused, trying to figure out how to do that without using colors. "It's like…" he started, and stopped, frustrated with himself that couldn't get the words right in his head. "Part of it is like a summer afternoon," he tried. "When you're outside for a long time and your entire body is warm and you know you should drink some water but you'd rather just sit around and soak it up." Deep reds. "And another part is like… it's like when you wake up in the morning without an alarm, just waking up on your own. And it's early, and the world is still quiet, and you're well rested." A softer yellow. "And then there's… like a lake. When you jump in without knowing if the water's going to be cold. And it's really cold." Magnificent blues. "And then silence. After a long day. The good kind of silence." Purples that faded into black.

Madge tugged him toward her then. "Will you kiss me?" she asked.

Gale stammered. "What?"

"I want you to kiss me," she said before licking her lips. "If you want that, too. I mean. I can't really… initiate a kiss. Because you're taller than me and it would be super awkward for me to miss and ruin this really nice moment."

Gale smiled, nodding. "Yeah, okay." He reached forward, cupping her cheek and tilting her chin up. "I'm going to kiss you now," he whispered.

"Please."

And then he did. Gale was gentle, maybe a little too gentle considering she yanked him closer by his shirt. Their lips moved together as though they'd kissed a million times before. It was so natural, so easy, the two of them brought together so wonderfully. Gale stopped only when he was breathless, pinning his forehead to hers and cradling her cheeks.

"Wow," she breathed.

"Wow," he echoed.

"Again?" Madge asked. Gale grinned, dipping down so his lips could graze hers. She met his mouth eagerly in response before awkwardly ending up on his cheek. "Oh, sorry!"

He laughed a little before correcting the placement of their lips, kissing Madge again and again, until the sun sunk under the horizon and the reds and yellows had faded completely.

"So you really like her, then?" Thom asked one afternoon. His eyes darted in Madge's direction and Gale followed his gaze. She was typing away again, most likely leaving comments on someone's paper rather than doing her own work for school.

"I really do," Gale said with a nod.

Thom grinned. They weren't all that far from her table. "She probably heard that, you know." Madge tipped her head slightly toward them in confirmation that she'd heard. There was a smile on her face.

"I'm counting on it," Gale returned with a smile of his own.