Madge was great at running. She never liked it as much as books or piano or her father's leathery warm voice. But to a lanky sixteen-year old daughter of a Mayor, sprinting down the dirt track with lungs full of crisp air felt natural as breathing itself. During sports lessons at school, the boys wrestled and the girls swung from monkey bars but Madge ran. Wind fluttering through her white cotton dress and hair crowned gold in the sunbeam. She carried the grace of a gazelle in her strides; the power of its hunting lioness. Not that teachers cared much for her natural ability - there wasn't much running to be done in the mines. Crawling, perhaps.

"That girl's like a horse," Thaddeus panted, staggering in second after a prolonged footrace.

Susie strode in after him, "This horse just beat you in a dress," not as broken as the boy - but still looking worse for wear than Madge. She'd barely broken a sweat and looked ready for another round. Her only other two competitors slumped to the ground; breaths heaving in sputtery threads.

Horse in a dress - heh. That's funny. She bent down and helped Susie to her feet. Awkward staggery posture sending all five feet of Susie's stature flopping into Madge's arms. It made her blush.

"You're something else, aren't you?" Susie teased, reaching up and pinching Madge's cheek, "Mayor's daughter, horse in a dress - hah!"

She blushed even harder. The darkened, sweat-soaked cotton of Susie's shorts clung to her hips as she walked off. The girl had tucked in her shirt and it drew out the lines of her figure. Curiosity clenched at Madge's chest and she wondered what would-

Stop! Madge tore her gaze from the girl. What're you even thinking about? Another girl's butt?

Her eyes shot to Thaddeus. Tall boy. Muscular too, she'd seen him help his dad chop firewood. He had taken off his shirt and exposed the rippling, sun-draped lines of his muscles and she'd never seen anything so bland in her life. Probably like ration-grain bread. Now, Susie was the good stuff - Madge sniggered to herself as she walked back to the benches. A ripe, crisp peach tart with goat's cheese. Her mouth watered as she conjured each girl in turn. Delly would be a full beef wellington. Mirabelle like slender roast potato sticks and butter, velvety smooth. Rosie resembled a juicy pork loin. And Katniss -

She paused, allowing her vision to slowly drift to Katniss. It was useless. Just like every time before this. No matter how slow or methodical she tried to catch Katniss staring, the Seam girl would inevitably avert her eyes. Why? Why does she keep doing this? She'd see her in the windowpanes, head in her hand. Picking at her nails like she's lost in another world. Obvious line of sight drawn towards herself. Madge ducked her head back into school as the well of emotion was poisoned yet again. It's fine, Madge wanted to tell her, you can look at me all you want. Boldness overtook her and she burned her stare into the lithe lines of Katniss's figure. The olive-brown skin, which would probably feel soft beneath her fingertips. Her wordless thin lips which may or may not taste like -

- Forbidden fruit.

The realisation chimed with the school's creaky bell. Forbidden. You're not supposed to think of her like that! Susie and Rosie brushed past, whispered voices chattering about how delicious Thaddeus looked with his shirt off. It's fine, see? Girls talked about boys all the time. Yet why did a pool of unspeakable warmth gather in her belly each time she daydreamed or nightdreamed about Katniss? Why didn't she dare stick her toes into it - teetering on the edge until her heart cried and that ball of unspoken feelings threatened to make her vomit?

A sudden trickle of warmth down her cheek quickly snapped her to the realisation she'd been standing in an empty classroom and staring at the rough brick walls. Madge broke from her daydream and ran all two miles back to the Mayor's house. Sprinting until her legs bled acid and lungs heaved with fire just so she could outpace all the forbidden desires that chased her down like foxes after rabbits in the woods. Back into her safe little room. Where she could let piano notes fill her mind and the books on her shelves whisk her away to another world where there weren't any gorgeous, dark-haired girls with long, slim legs and a mystery behind their eyes waiting to be discovered.

Unlike all her footraces at school - she lost this contest. Madge fell asleep bathed in starlight from her open window. Midnight breeze light on her soft, blonde curls. She dreamt of Katniss in the woods. A hunter. Catching sight of her prey in the weeds. Bewildered by the strength in her stature and the drawn bow. The urge to run struck and Madge leapt. Only for an arrow to pierce straight through her heart.

Perhaps Cupid's dreamlike arrow really hit its mark. When an empty seat opened beside Katniss the next day; Madge ignored the heat in her face and walked straight to it. No boys. No girls either. Only Katniss. And she's going to confront her hunter or die trying. Anything would be better than living with that sickly longing in her belly. She didn't even have to look to know - Katniss's breath audibly seized as she plonked herself down. As if that wasn't enough, she turned to see the Seam girl's face blushing pink. There was no way she could avoid her gaze, no way either of them could run away from this closeness. Katniss jerked away before slowly tilting her head back.

"Good morning, Katniss," she tried to put a chipper in her voice.

"Madge."

Her own name sounded like honey rolling off Katniss's lips. It curled a smile on her own.

"We've never sat next to each other," Madge looked straight ahead, "in fact I don't think I've ever seen anyone sit next to you-"

"Maybe I don't want anyone next to me," Katniss growled, low, "have you considered that?"

The smile on her face faded. Honey now tasted like dust. She waited, heart in throat, for Katniss to tell her to fuck off and get lost - but no harsh rebuke came. Only an open stack of bound scrap paper masquerading as a notebook fluttered open on Katniss's desk. The teacher started her Math lesson. In the back of her mind, Madge pondered whether Katniss meant to shoot at her and simply missed - or if she was trying at all. Only one way to find out.

One lesson became two. Before it turned into sewing class. They silently helped each other with woodwork; flushed cheeks and held breaths each time their fingers brushed. Katniss allowed her silent company at the lunch table, or simply tolerated it. Turning down her offer of buttery pastries even though surely that must taste better than the burnt bread you're eating? It didn't matter either way - she felt like she could eat Katniss's presence for lunch and come back for seconds. In return for her quiet, unspoken friendship, Madge played tag with her on the field. Squealing voices and unravelled braids as they tried to snag each other by the elbows. Despite the spent breaths and glistening foreheads, Katniss still proved more than agile climbing up and down the rickety wooden frame.

"It's not like climbing a tree. The trees in the woods are harder," the longest sentence Katniss had spoken to her all year.

She looked down at the three-foot drop. Katniss's outstretched arms. Fear surged up her spine - but she's gotten used to swallowing her trepidations by now. A huge oomph vented her lungs as she fell into Katniss's arms. Together with the realisation that she really was afraid of this feeling that sparked through her chest like wildfire. The gentle look in Katniss's deep, grey eyes. The whisper of a breath on her cheek. And, god, those arms! Firm and strong and wrapped around her waist like they were lovers. Her heart raced at the slight squeeze she imagined Katniss curled into her lower back. Their embrace teetered a second too long - before they broke apart and she realised it was far too short.

A whistle blew. Katniss adjusted her braid and turned away with lowered eyes. And the ache which gripped Madge's chest proved an irrefutable truth - this hunter's hit her mark today.

Ever since she could read, the novels on Madge's shelves represented a shapeless kingdom she could dream herself into. A world where there weren't reapings and she didn't have to listen to Capitol propaganda and there wouldn't be coal mines and people who starved to death. In these worlds, she never had to force herself to think about boys. The men in them were strong and virtuous and gentle - it was little wonder the women portrayed fell head-over-heels for them.

And yet now - after feeling the firm grasp of Katniss's arms around her, those novels took on the form of another beast. She followed each listless sigh those fictional women exhaled for their lovers, gone for long periods across the seas. She remembered her own held breaths each night lying wide-eyed in bed and wondering about Katniss hunting in the woods with Gale. Whether he'd keep her safe or if she'd have to show up to an empty seat the next day.

"You pierce my soul. I am half agony, half hope. Tell me not that I am too late, that such precious feelings are gone forever."

Madge turned over in bed and drew the sheets in. Her eyes flittered to a freshly ironed dress that hung on her door. Gleaming white cotton now appeared a scrawl of grey in the shadowy moonlight. It would've been a lovely dress to wear if not for its sole, annual purpose. Tears welled in her eyes as she clung onto her blanket wondering if Katniss had a lucky dress to ward off the invisible hand that came for them each year. Half agony, half hope. She whispered the blessed girl's name into her sheets like a prayer. That there'd still be enough of Katniss after reaping day for her precious feelings to lavish upon, even if it meant leaving her half-in-agony and hope.

It turned out that she did! Blue cotton dress like the summer sky and soft like the look in her eyes she threw at her sister before sliding in next to her. Even penned in with a host of other children, Madge still detected the faintest scent of pine on Katniss's skin. In another time, another place - she would've quietly inhaled the gentlest of breaths. Sampled the taste of Katniss's skin in her lungs. Inscribed it into her memory like those precious words in her storybooks. But here in the reaping square, all Madge could think about was Effie Trinket's whitened hand as it slipped into the bowl and hurled another child to their deaths. Was Katniss's lucky dress enough?

It was! The knot of a held breath in Madge's throat unwound itself in a gasp as Effie announced a name. Not her's, not Katniss's. But the surname clubbed her so hard in the gut that nausea roared like a rushing wave.

"...Everdeen-"

What? Her sister?

The strong presence beside her vanished. Katniss hadn't even hesitated for a moment. A scream came from the rear. Then a shout. I volunteer! Every pining dream and hopeless fantasy she'd held towards Katniss boiled over into vapor and evaporated at the sight of that slim figure standing before District 12 and the Capitol. Cameras whirred and clicked at her.

The strength of Katniss's stature stole her breath. She volunteered for her sister. Prim still squirmed in Gale's grasp, screaming as Katniss's led away by Peacekeepers. The hot July sun baked another dose of truth into Madge's brain - you'll never, in a million years, be good enough for Katniss. Selfless and pure and willing to lay her life down in an instant. Right when arms raised themselves up in a final salute, reality swam in around her and she remembered the last of that Jane Austen quote she'd pored over a dozen times.

"I can listen no longer in silence. I must speak to you by such means as are within my reach"

Katniss treaded on death's doorstep just to save her sister. Thoughtless and bold. Madge watched her disappear behind the Justice hall doors. There weren't any more days she could keep her unspoken feelings welled within herself any longer. No more calm silences and smiles they could hide from each other. No more of those gentle hands that set her heart aflutter each time they touched.

Without a further thought, Madge ripped off the Mockingjay pin from her dress.

And ran after Katniss like her life depended on it.