"My father doesn't read them- and brushes them off as a silly girl's fancy," Madge murmured.
"They mostly follow the same formula- and always wind up with the rugged love interest making love with the attractive woman. She's either wild and spontaneous or quiet and demure... But always head over heels for him."
“But you find them… entertaining,” Gale repeated, an amused sparkle in his eyes. “I wouldn’t call you demure, but you definitely fall under quiet. So who are you head over heels for, Undersee?”
Madge's face was burning now, not by the insinuation that she enjoyed reading the novels. Nor was it because he was comparing her to any number of the women in the novels. It was more because of what she was about to admit... Quietly, and almost drowned out by the fact that she was suddenly picking at a few notes again. "You."
“How? If they always follow the same formula, you’d think it would get boring.”
Basic logic, if you asked Gale. He certainly couldn’t see himself wasting time by reading the same story over and over, with different names and faces to color the template. That wasn’t what he’d want in a story.
As quietly as Madge spoke, with her fingers on the keys again, he couldn’t quite hear what she had to say. So Gale leaned in, eyebrows raised inquisitively.
“Sorry, Undersee, didn’t catch that. What did you say?”
"I guess there's something comforting about it? That no matter how bad things look... you know it'll get better."
With a lot of sex and ridiculous romance. But, that was beside the point. Madge played a few more notes, not paying attention to how he leaned in until she turned to look at him and realized just how close they were now.
Oh.
"You."
It was no louder this time than it was before, and her cheeks were still burning... But she didn't back out of what she'd already said.
“I guess so,” he said, doubtful. Except it didn’t always get better, or things wouldn’t be so bad in District Twelve. But Gale tried not to think about that when he was with Madge, focusing instead on more positive things to keep his (and her) spirits up.
Then she just had to throw him a curveball.
“Me.” Gale laughed, trying to shake off the sudden knots wringing in the pit of his stomach. “Of course. Why wouldn’t you? I’m the most romantic person you know.”
He rolled his eyes, showing exactly what he thought about that.
It wasn't like she meant to throw him that curveball, and to be perfectly fair? He's the one that pressed.
Madge stopped when he laughed at her answer, staring at him for a moment longer. It was silly for her to mention it, even though she'd wanted to say something for a while now. "Right, it's silly..."
As her fingers moved along the keys, she glanced away and started another melody: lower and slower than before... Anything to keep from having to look at him, really.
Gale leaned forward, trying to catch her eyes, but of course she’d decided to avoid looking at him. He’d treated it like a joke. Hell, to him, it had to be a joke. Even if he’s gotten away from the general prejudice he’d once held against her, Madge was still… She was still a town girl, and he was still a boy from the Seam. It was hard to believe it couldn’t be a joke.
Gently, he placed his hand on hers, light enough to follow her fingers as she played. “Madge?”
It was easy to ignore him when her music was involved. Easy to pretend he hadn't said anything and to keep playing the melody. However, it wasn't so easy to ignore when his hand was on hers.
Oh.
She looked up at him, missing a few notes in the melody as she did, realizing how close they were now that he leaned toward her. "I was... am... yes. But it's silly, it's okay, really. Promise."
Gale stared at her, stunned and confused all at once. Here he’d thought the blatant flirting between them was just some game of theirs, just part of that odd friendship they’d fallen into after working out their differences - nothing serious. He’d never allowed himself to even consider that there might be more to it. The idea just seemed so… so farfetched, especially after he’d treated her before. After that, even if their social differences didn’t matter, Gale knew he didn’t deserve her friendship, let alone her attraction.
“What do you mean, it’s silly?”
He realized a moment later that he should probably say something else, but nothing else came to mind. He was still trying to wrap his head around this, and figure out what it really meant for them.
Maybe it started off that way, but Madge couldn't exactly pinpoint when it had started to change... At least for her. Apparently it hadn't changed for him. But when he asked her why it was silly, the color drained from her face.
"You don't..." Madge paused, trying to figure out what to even say. "I mean... It doesn't seem like you..."
Sighing, Madge looked away from him, no longer playing notes on the piano and instead looking at their hands, his still on top of hers. "You don't feel the same."
His voice came out sharper than intended when he replied, “You don’t know how I feel, Undersee.”
Because how could she, when he wasn’t sure of it himself? Gale knew he was popular among the girls in the District and had, in fact, taken advantage of it once or twice, but when he was with them, he never acted anything like he did with Madge. He didn’t even act like this with Katniss. It was new, different, and there were nights when he had started to wonder…
And promptly stomped those thoughts into the ground with the coal dust that covered the Seam, reminding himself that there was nothing for him down that road. Even now, Gale had trouble believing it.
He shook his head, trying to deny it. “Why would you like someone like me?”
Madge tensed when he next spoke, still refusing to look up at him. She hadn't meant to tell him- but it felt right to mention it at this point... and really, he had pressed. But this wasn't fair, it wasn't fair that she felt so ridiculous for telling him how she felt and she still had no clue what he felt. Maybe he didn't know yet, but it still bothered her. "Then tell me. Tell me how you feel so I'm not stuck guessing or assuming."
Maybe it sounded like she snapped at him, but she was tired of guessing how other people felt. Katniss, her father, the kids at school and now Gale too. She pulled her hand out from under his, keeping it in her lap as she looked back up at him.
"Why wouldn't I? You put your family first, you sacrifice everything for them... You're kind and caring, despite your tough exterior. You took a chance to be friends with me, despite past assumptions."
Not to mention his looks, though she'd hardly be shallow enough to extend her reasoning to that.
“Because I treated you like shit for years,” he mumbled, averting his eyes as what she said starts to sink in. What was he supposed to tell her? Gale wasn’t entirely sure what his own feelings were, especially with regards to Madge Undersee. She was always - Madge was always part of a group he could never hope to stand up to, and he’d never even tried. It still felt weird to come and visit her now, as friends instead of just… acquaintances who traded with strawberries.
And to be honest, he’d only allowed himself to get this far because of Katniss. Without her constant insistence that Madge wasn’t the proud town girl he’d assumed, Gale never would have bothered.
He would have missed out on her skills with the piano. He would have missed how her eyes light up when she’s excited, how relaxed she is when she’s playing, how patient she is with him…
Even now, he feels like he doesn’t know her as well as he could.
“I don’t know,” Gale said finally, scowling. Admitting that took effort. “I… I like you, Undersee, but…” He shook his head. “I’m not the kind of guy you should be wasting your time with. Not like that.”
In the mode of fight or flight, Madge was very much in flight mode. Wouldn't it be easier to run upstairs and hide in her room, or even her mother's room, and not have to worry about talking about any of this?
"Madge," she corrected him softly, but sternly, when he used her last name instead of her given.
Of course they didn't know each other as well as they could, partly because she felt like she sometimes walking on eggshells when it came to what to say around him. Maybe not as much as before, but still to a point. "And you shouldn't tell me who I should or should not spend my time with. If we have feelings for each other and enjoy each other's company, why shouldn't we give it a go?"
Well- that was more straightforward than she intended. "We wouldn't have been friends without giving that a try. What makes this any different?"
“Because I don’t want you to throw your life away because of me,” he said finally, standing to walk a few paces away. A hand brushed through his hair, a nervous movement to help release some of the anxiety that was suddenly knotted and heavy in the pit of his stomach. This conversation was… unexpected, to say the least, and Gale was regretting it, wishing he could just leave and avoid her without the knowledge that they would have to pick this up again later, whenever they spoke next. He shouldn’t have pressed.
But it was too late for that, he supposed. What’s done is done.
“There have been plenty of people who’ve left their lives in town for someone in the Seam,” Gale continued finally, after a short, quiet sigh of resignation. “They never handle the change well. They think they can, that… that love is a good enough reason to do it, but something always happens.”
Mrs. Everdeen was a prime example, but Gale wasn’t about to out Katniss if she hadn’t told Madge herself. That wasn’t his story to tell, but he’d seen it happen often enough that he wouldn’t dare allow that to happen to someone he’d finally come to consider a friend.
Madge watched him stand and walk away, she watched his hand brush through his hair and barely registered what he said to her in the meantime. It was a ridiculous thought, anyway, to be told that pursuing someone would be considered throwing her life away. What exactly did she have to live for if not for the idea of love and happiness?
Her mother was ill, she had no friends aside from Katniss, Gale and Peeta. Her father, he would understand. And even if he didn't, that was his loss. "It's a romantic notion," she offered quietly.
A moment later she stood and joined him those few paces away, looking up at him as though daring him to tell her all of this to her face. "I'm not asking for happily ever afters, Gale," she said finally. Though, truth be told she wouldn't mind one- she knew it was unrealistic. "Just a chance."
“Romantic notions aren’t enough,” he sighed. There were so many cases he could cite to prove it. No matter how much Gale would like to believe in love conquering all - and yes, sometimes even he thought about that, in those vulnerable moments between thoughts of rebellion he could never admit to having - but he knew better. Those stories were great for little girls like Posey who needed that little bit of hope to keep smiling, but reality never worked that way.
As Madge came to stand by him, he avoided her gaze. He saw Mrs. Everdeen, broken and unable to take care of her children. He saw girls from school who went home with their crushes, the grimaces as their light, clean clothes took on a coat of charcoal dust. He saw the kids on the streets of the Seam, starving while the folks from town threw out their extra. It was all a painful reminder of the differences between him and Madge, and she might want to pretend that gap didn’t exist, but she couldn’t change the fact that it did.
“I don’t think you know what you’re asking, Madge,” he said after a moment, finally turning to look at her. “I can’t give you anything.”
Madge found herself bitter that he wouldn't look at her. That he was off in his mind somewhere and she couldn't follow. It wasn't fair to keep her out of half the conversation- since he was certainly going over the points in his head, so privately that she wasn't able to argue back. Regardless of any of that, she wasn't just another Townie... and he wasn't just another kid from the Seam. There was little she could do for the quality of life and the rift that had been formed between them thanks to the Capitol, but what she could do was keep her mind open to the possibilities. And maybe, just maybe, some day in the future she could work on repairing that tear.
"You cannot tell me what's going on in my head, Gale. Unless you're suddenly a mind reader... Then by all means!"
She didn't mean to sound so angry, but she couldn't hold back the hurt in her chest. "I'm not asking for anything, not anything more than just you- and even that doesn't have to be a long lasting thing. You can't give this... us... A chance? Can you tell me, honestly, that the idea of an us has never crossed your mind? Not even once, fleetingly?"
Have you ever even been to the Seam? he wanted to ask, frowning as Madge shot back at him, deserved or no. He could already his frustration starting to bubble into anger into response to her own. It was different outside of town; how could Madge, the mayor’s daughter, really understand that? Katniss certainly wouldn’t have filled her in.
“Does it matter?” So what if he had, once or twice? Gale had never allowed himself to think something could actually happen between them. They were too different, and there were too many other factors beyond their control - it would be a complete disaster if they tried.
“It doesn’t change anything.”
Even to his own ears, the words sounded cynical. But he couldn’t allow it. Gale had been happy enough just being friends with her; to ask for more was… It would be selfish, it would be destructive, and now that he knew Madge for Madge, he didn’t want to lash out again and hurt her like he used to, but Gale knew himself well enough to know that he would. He would just be wasting her time.
Despite what everyone though, Madge didn't grow up with a silver spoon in her mouth. As Mayor's daughter, she was subject to seeing just how things were in all parts of the District. In the Capitol. Her father, after all, wasn't just the Mayor for the town, but all of District 12. And while that meant little on his front, thanks to Capitol intervention, it still meant knowing everything that goes on in the city. (Well, to an extent.)
Still, with her blonde hair and fair skin, Madge was an easy target for the "privileged Townie" card, and to be fair, she did have a good deal more privilege than most. "It doesn't because you won't let it."
Perhaps that wasn't the most fair thing for her to say. But she was angry now, frustrated even. Not sure what else she should even tell him, she huffed out an annoyed sigh and before she could second guess anything, she brought her hand to his cheek, stood on the very tips of her toes and pressed a kiss to his lips.
Nothing big and dramatic, just a kiss she wanted desperately... one that would hopefully convey just how serious she was. And as soon as it had happened, it now came to a halt. "If you want to leave," she began quietly, "go ahead. I won't stop you."
He was ready to let his anger boil over, to let the injustice between their classes fuel his words, but Madge put a stop to that half a second before he could say anything. The words caught in his throat and Gale froze, brow furrowed in disbelief. It wasn’t anything like the way he’d kissed Katniss, what felt like ages ago - Madge was much calmer, much more resigned to not getting what she had apparently decided she wanted.
He’d been happy enough just being friends, but she was just as frustrating as ever.
Gale sighed and ran his hand through his hair again, taking a step back and averting his eyes as the tension melted from his shoulders. “Nothing I say is going to change your mind, is it?”
Well at least she shut him up. Madge was thankful for that small miracle. Hell, if she'd have known that earlier, she would've kissed him much sooner. It would have saved them a headache. Still, as they parted from the two second kiss she'd planted, he wouldn't meet her eyes.
She crossed her arms in front of her and shook her head, despite him not looking at her. "No. I'm actually very stubborn."
He let out a snort and shook his head, keeping his eyes on the floor before him. This was stupid, Gale told himself, stupid and pointless and it would only lead to someone being hurt, or maybe both of them. This wasn’t why he’d come here, but Madge had a mind of her own.
When had things changed? How could she have gone from a tense business relationship to… to whatever this was supposed to be?
“That’s not something you should be bragging about,” Gale said finally, as he glanced up at the door and debated the merits of leaving and never mentioning this again. If she was really that stubborn, though, she wouldn’t let it go, and he’d seen her determination in other areas. Madge wasn’t joking.
Resigned, he finally turned to her and said, “Just don’t blame me if you regret this later,” and stepped in to kiss her again, lifting one hand to caress her cheek.
"It isn't?" That was news to Madge, really. She was very proud of how stubborn she was, how she could be. Perhaps it would be frowned upon if she used that for more petty reasons, but as that usually wasn't the case, she didn't see any reason to be modest about it. And while she was frustrated that he wouldn't look at her, she made no comment or move to change that.
She expected him to leave. To walk out the door and for no one to be the wiser... Instead, he was pressing his lips back against hers after a terse, but perhaps resigned, warning. She smiled into the kiss, silly as that might be, and pressed closer to him. One hand tentatively moved to rest on his shoulder, to keep herself upright, as the other wrapped behind his neck.
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"They mostly follow the same formula- and always wind up with the rugged love interest making love with the attractive woman. She's either wild and spontaneous or quiet and demure... But always head over heels for him."
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Madge's face was burning now, not by the insinuation that she enjoyed reading the novels. Nor was it because he was comparing her to any number of the women in the novels. It was more because of what she was about to admit... Quietly, and almost drowned out by the fact that she was suddenly picking at a few notes again. "You."
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Basic logic, if you asked Gale. He certainly couldn’t see himself wasting time by reading the same story over and over, with different names and faces to color the template. That wasn’t what he’d want in a story.
As quietly as Madge spoke, with her fingers on the keys again, he couldn’t quite hear what she had to say. So Gale leaned in, eyebrows raised inquisitively.
“Sorry, Undersee, didn’t catch that. What did you say?”
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With a lot of sex and ridiculous romance. But, that was beside the point. Madge played a few more notes, not paying attention to how he leaned in until she turned to look at him and realized just how close they were now.
Oh.
"You."
It was no louder this time than it was before, and her cheeks were still burning... But she didn't back out of what she'd already said.
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Then she just had to throw him a curveball.
“Me.” Gale laughed, trying to shake off the sudden knots wringing in the pit of his stomach. “Of course. Why wouldn’t you? I’m the most romantic person you know.”
He rolled his eyes, showing exactly what he thought about that.
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Madge stopped when he laughed at her answer, staring at him for a moment longer. It was silly for her to mention it, even though she'd wanted to say something for a while now. "Right, it's silly..."
As her fingers moved along the keys, she glanced away and started another melody: lower and slower than before... Anything to keep from having to look at him, really.
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Gale leaned forward, trying to catch her eyes, but of course she’d decided to avoid looking at him. He’d treated it like a joke. Hell, to him, it had to be a joke. Even if he’s gotten away from the general prejudice he’d once held against her, Madge was still… She was still a town girl, and he was still a boy from the Seam. It was hard to believe it couldn’t be a joke.
Gently, he placed his hand on hers, light enough to follow her fingers as she played. “Madge?”
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Oh.
She looked up at him, missing a few notes in the melody as she did, realizing how close they were now that he leaned toward her. "I was... am... yes. But it's silly, it's okay, really. Promise."
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“What do you mean, it’s silly?”
He realized a moment later that he should probably say something else, but nothing else came to mind. He was still trying to wrap his head around this, and figure out what it really meant for them.
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"You don't..." Madge paused, trying to figure out what to even say. "I mean... It doesn't seem like you..."
Sighing, Madge looked away from him, no longer playing notes on the piano and instead looking at their hands, his still on top of hers. "You don't feel the same."
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Because how could she, when he wasn’t sure of it himself? Gale knew he was popular among the girls in the District and had, in fact, taken advantage of it once or twice, but when he was with them, he never acted anything like he did with Madge. He didn’t even act like this with Katniss. It was new, different, and there were nights when he had started to wonder…
And promptly stomped those thoughts into the ground with the coal dust that covered the Seam, reminding himself that there was nothing for him down that road. Even now, Gale had trouble believing it.
He shook his head, trying to deny it. “Why would you like someone like me?”
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Maybe it sounded like she snapped at him, but she was tired of guessing how other people felt. Katniss, her father, the kids at school and now Gale too. She pulled her hand out from under his, keeping it in her lap as she looked back up at him.
"Why wouldn't I? You put your family first, you sacrifice everything for them... You're kind and caring, despite your tough exterior. You took a chance to be friends with me, despite past assumptions."
Not to mention his looks, though she'd hardly be shallow enough to extend her reasoning to that.
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And to be honest, he’d only allowed himself to get this far because of Katniss. Without her constant insistence that Madge wasn’t the proud town girl he’d assumed, Gale never would have bothered.
He would have missed out on her skills with the piano. He would have missed how her eyes light up when she’s excited, how relaxed she is when she’s playing, how patient she is with him…
Even now, he feels like he doesn’t know her as well as he could.
“I don’t know,” Gale said finally, scowling. Admitting that took effort. “I… I like you, Undersee, but…” He shook his head. “I’m not the kind of guy you should be wasting your time with. Not like that.”
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"Madge," she corrected him softly, but sternly, when he used her last name instead of her given.
Of course they didn't know each other as well as they could, partly because she felt like she sometimes walking on eggshells when it came to what to say around him. Maybe not as much as before, but still to a point. "And you shouldn't tell me who I should or should not spend my time with. If we have feelings for each other and enjoy each other's company, why shouldn't we give it a go?"
Well- that was more straightforward than she intended. "We wouldn't have been friends without giving that a try. What makes this any different?"
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But it was too late for that, he supposed. What’s done is done.
“There have been plenty of people who’ve left their lives in town for someone in the Seam,” Gale continued finally, after a short, quiet sigh of resignation. “They never handle the change well. They think they can, that… that love is a good enough reason to do it, but something always happens.”
Mrs. Everdeen was a prime example, but Gale wasn’t about to out Katniss if she hadn’t told Madge herself. That wasn’t his story to tell, but he’d seen it happen often enough that he wouldn’t dare allow that to happen to someone he’d finally come to consider a friend.
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Her mother was ill, she had no friends aside from Katniss, Gale and Peeta. Her father, he would understand. And even if he didn't, that was his loss. "It's a romantic notion," she offered quietly.
A moment later she stood and joined him those few paces away, looking up at him as though daring him to tell her all of this to her face. "I'm not asking for happily ever afters, Gale," she said finally. Though, truth be told she wouldn't mind one- she knew it was unrealistic. "Just a chance."
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As Madge came to stand by him, he avoided her gaze. He saw Mrs. Everdeen, broken and unable to take care of her children. He saw girls from school who went home with their crushes, the grimaces as their light, clean clothes took on a coat of charcoal dust. He saw the kids on the streets of the Seam, starving while the folks from town threw out their extra. It was all a painful reminder of the differences between him and Madge, and she might want to pretend that gap didn’t exist, but she couldn’t change the fact that it did.
“I don’t think you know what you’re asking, Madge,” he said after a moment, finally turning to look at her. “I can’t give you anything.”
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Madge found herself bitter that he wouldn't look at her. That he was off in his mind somewhere and she couldn't follow. It wasn't fair to keep her out of half the conversation- since he was certainly going over the points in his head, so privately that she wasn't able to argue back. Regardless of any of that, she wasn't just another Townie... and he wasn't just another kid from the Seam. There was little she could do for the quality of life and the rift that had been formed between them thanks to the Capitol, but what she could do was keep her mind open to the possibilities. And maybe, just maybe, some day in the future she could work on repairing that tear.
"You cannot tell me what's going on in my head, Gale. Unless you're suddenly a mind reader... Then by all means!"
She didn't mean to sound so angry, but she couldn't hold back the hurt in her chest. "I'm not asking for anything, not anything more than just you- and even that doesn't have to be a long lasting thing. You can't give this... us... A chance? Can you tell me, honestly, that the idea of an us has never crossed your mind? Not even once, fleetingly?"
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“Does it matter?” So what if he had, once or twice? Gale had never allowed himself to think something could actually happen between them. They were too different, and there were too many other factors beyond their control - it would be a complete disaster if they tried.
“It doesn’t change anything.”
Even to his own ears, the words sounded cynical. But he couldn’t allow it. Gale had been happy enough just being friends with her; to ask for more was… It would be selfish, it would be destructive, and now that he knew Madge for Madge, he didn’t want to lash out again and hurt her like he used to, but Gale knew himself well enough to know that he would. He would just be wasting her time.
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Still, with her blonde hair and fair skin, Madge was an easy target for the "privileged Townie" card, and to be fair, she did have a good deal more privilege than most. "It doesn't because you won't let it."
Perhaps that wasn't the most fair thing for her to say. But she was angry now, frustrated even. Not sure what else she should even tell him, she huffed out an annoyed sigh and before she could second guess anything, she brought her hand to his cheek, stood on the very tips of her toes and pressed a kiss to his lips.
Nothing big and dramatic, just a kiss she wanted desperately... one that would hopefully convey just how serious she was. And as soon as it had happened, it now came to a halt. "If you want to leave," she began quietly, "go ahead. I won't stop you."
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He’d been happy enough just being friends, but she was just as frustrating as ever.
Gale sighed and ran his hand through his hair again, taking a step back and averting his eyes as the tension melted from his shoulders. “Nothing I say is going to change your mind, is it?”
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She crossed her arms in front of her and shook her head, despite him not looking at her. "No. I'm actually very stubborn."
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When had things changed? How could she have gone from a tense business relationship to… to whatever this was supposed to be?
“That’s not something you should be bragging about,” Gale said finally, as he glanced up at the door and debated the merits of leaving and never mentioning this again. If she was really that stubborn, though, she wouldn’t let it go, and he’d seen her determination in other areas. Madge wasn’t joking.
Resigned, he finally turned to her and said, “Just don’t blame me if you regret this later,” and stepped in to kiss her again, lifting one hand to caress her cheek.
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She expected him to leave. To walk out the door and for no one to be the wiser... Instead, he was pressing his lips back against hers after a terse, but perhaps resigned, warning. She smiled into the kiss, silly as that might be, and pressed closer to him. One hand tentatively moved to rest on his shoulder, to keep herself upright, as the other wrapped behind his neck.
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