"Are you afraid? Of the fence-"

"Hmm?" Madge muses, before ducking under the gap without pause. The tangled, rusty razor wire snags her white cotton dress, but she brushes it off like the last leaves of fall.

Probably not.

Katniss's eyes travel up the girl's slim, pale calves, checking for scratches. Her mind wanders to that red dot of blood on her finger from years ago. How vibrant the crimson was against the fairness of her skin. How easily a single scratch would blemish her. And yet, Madge doesn't appear to mind the forest's rough terrain. Slight-heeled shoes trotting across a shallow stream as she hitches up the hem of her white dress. It sticks out like a solid beacon of light in the darkest night. Hardly suitable for hunting. But all Katniss can think about are the nights she'd spent sitting by her window and staring at the lights in the Merchant section. Wondering which one was Madge's.

"The air already seems fresher here," Madge quips, waiting for Katniss to catch up. Fingers held aloft to the cool, damp air. The first snows have started to drift into existence. She lingers until a snowflake touches her hand, melting into a glistening sheen.

"Sorry, I just had to do that," Madge turns to Katniss, "back home, the snow turns grey even before reaching the ground."

Katniss huffs a laugh. Her mind wanders as Madge meanders through the loose forest trail, clumps of snow scattered upon the leaves. She sticks close behind, unsure how well her shoes would fare in the mud. Or how on earth she's putting up with the cold in that thin-looking dress. Her gaze travels down Madge's arm. She stumbles momentarily on some rocks before righting herself. The thought of catching hold of Madge's hand seizes upon Katniss, but the moment is gone as soon as it arrives.

It's nothing. Katniss chides herself. You've held Prim's hand before, haven't you? She wonders, how different it would be. Whether it'd be the same as those couples she's seen holding hands in the square. Whether it's just a gesture friends do for one another, or something that signifies more.

The thought falls from her mind when they pass through the treeline and reach the lake's shore. The morning sun glimmers off its surface. Each breath of wind spreads golden ripples upon its stillness. It only reminds her of those blonde tendrils dangling so close to her face just a week ago.

"It's so quiet here," Madge muses, "I've always wanted to see the lake for myself."

Katniss points at the silhouette of a mountain lingering on the horizon, "Somewhere over that hill is District 8."

"...And 3," Madge whispers. As though the rest of Panem is a secret neither of them should know about.

"H-have you heard anything recently?"

"It is unnervingly quiet," Madge whispers, "I don't know if it's because there's no news, or they've locked down the communications because of the violence."

A chill passes through Katniss's spine, but she tells herself it's just the first bite of winter.

"A-are you afraid?"

"No, I thought I would be," Madge shakes her head, "but - standing here. In this quiet place, so far away from it all. It just makes me feel so utterly safe from the rest of Panem."

"Heh, wait til' a flesheater appears behind you-"

Madge giggles, "I wouldn't mind at all - as long as you're with me."

Perhaps it's her own mention of rabid animals that heightens Katniss's instincts; they head further along the shoreline and retrieve her Bow and Quiver from a hollowed-out log. Katniss mentions she had one crafted from aluminum after the games. But prefers using this wooden one. The same bow which bears her father's fingerprints. Together, they untangle dead rabbits from snares she'd set last week. Katniss shows her how to dig for tubers beneath the weeds. Throughout it all, she watches in amazement as Madge doesn't hesitate to stick her pristine fingernails into the dirt. Or get blood on her hands putting away rabbits in their satchel. She does, however, struggle with shooting.

"It's so heavy," Madge complains, trying once again to draw the bow even halfway, "you made it look so easy during the games."

A shudder courses through Katniss's spine. She digs her boot heels into the earth. Eyes fixed on Madge taking aim at a tree fifty yards away. There's a slight slouch in her posture. She already knows the arrow won't travel far. But a hesitation brims within Katniss when she considers how to correct it.

"Try standing straighter," Katniss suggests.

Madge straightens her back, but it's not enough. The arrow whizzes through the air and lands short of its target.

"I'm hopeless at this, aren't I?" Madge giggles, before nocking another arrow and taking aim again.

"Lean back a little, it'll put the weight on your shoulders instead of your arm," Katniss steps closer, hand hovering an inch from the lace ribbons adorning the back of her dress, "Um, can I?"

She dips her head back at Katniss. Swallows. Nods.

Katniss rests a hand on her hip and the girl visibly tenses beneath her touch. The other palm trails up her spine. She trembles. The bow quivers. A bead of perspiration leaks down Madge's forehead and her arms are knotted tight with the draw weight. A sharp inhale before the bowstring snaps and streaks the arrow directly into the tree with an audible thud.

Madge squeals in delight.

"Now comes the hard part," Katniss says, "try aiming exactly where it landed."

"Sounds easy enough," Madge comments, nocking another arrow.

It isn't. Not with the way Katniss presses behind her. The heat of their bodies marrying in the thin space between them. The curve of Madge's hips learning the shape of Katniss's. Her posture is perfect, but she lingers on the draw. Head tilting as she shuts an eye for better aim. The subtle movement exposes a downy wisp of blonde hair right above the nape of her neck. And it locks Katniss's breath up. Just looking at it. Inhaling the scent of Lavender mixed with rain. Watching goosebumps rise on her skin.

All her life, Katniss had only known survival. Constant struggles to procure food and keeping her family alive. The haggles and trades at the hob for just another loaf of bread. Staying alive for one more day beneath the unrelenting cold and hunger. All those Tesserae slips. Dead tributes on her conscience, just for a chance to make it home. A fake romance. And now, standing behind Madge and her sunlit hair and fearless heart and that voice which calms her soul. To her, touching that wispy-soft lock of hair becomes as necessary as fighting tooth-and-nail to stay alive. Like she'd die if she doesn't know what it feels like. Vaporise into thin air if she keeps her distance for one more second.

So she does.

Brushing a fingertip over the patch of gold behind her neck.

A gasp.

The arrow misfires into the canopy. Crows flutter. Loud squawking snaps Katniss back to the harrowing realisation of what she'd just done.

Madge whirls around. Gray eyes glimmer with rage and lock onto Katniss's. Mouth ajar.

"Sorry," Katniss exclaims, "I-I shouldn't have."

"What was that?" Madge asks, hand flying to her neck.

"It's nothing," she insists.

Oh shit, you've done it this time, haven't you? You strayed too far and look what happened. She's never going to want to see you, ever again.

"No, you need to tell me what that was," Madge's voice trembles with anger. The bow dangles from her hand.

"J-just pretend I didn't do anything-" Katniss looks down and shakes her head. Face burning red. C'mon. Run. You're good at this. Running and hiding.

"Katniss, you don't get to do this and pretend nothing's happened," Madge seethes, "because you're driving me fucking crazy with the way you are."

The sudden swearing from a polite Mayor's daughter rankles her. Katniss looks up and tries mouthing a few words. But only manages incoherent sounds.

"So tell me," Madge steps closer, "all these years it feels like we've been tiptoeing around each other and I'm going to lose my goddamned mind at this rate-"

"I'm scared, alright?" Katniss breaks down, clutching her head, "You can call me a coward but I'm just afraid of everything-"

"What do you mean?"

"I'm scared of what you do to me!" a tear rolls down Katniss's cheek, "I'm scared of what people will think of us, I'm scared of what the Capitol would do to you if they found out. Everything. Two girls? God, Madge, I'm a coward-"

"Stop, stop, I'm as much of one if you-" Madge snivels, wiping a tear from her eye, "I'm terrified of losing you, of what you think of me, but that doesn't stop me from feeling things towards you."

"God, all this while I thought you'd hate me-"

Madge sticks out her palm, "Stop, just - Katniss. For one second. Just forget about what you're scared of and tell me what you want."

"Madge, please, I-"

She steps closer, "Tell me what you want, please-"

Without waiting, Madge kisses the answer from Katniss's lips. Hands fall to each other's hips. She breathes in her scent. Grasping at the soft cotton which calms the throbbing in her chest. When they part, the fears that plagued her every waking moment dissolve into those charcoal gray eyes looking back. Soiled fingers graze the tears from Katniss's face. Before they find each other. Amidst the tangle of lips and fingers, Katniss hears Madge breathe her question one more time.

"You still haven't told me."

"You," Katniss kisses her back, "what I really want is you."