“We'll go to…?”
“I will.”
Madge has a leg sprawled over her lap, lazily playing with the ends of her hair. They’ve been like this for some time. Katniss relishes in the warmth coming from her. She's been thinking about letting her hair grow more just for Madelyn, the non-ending playing with her tips always make her happy. The feeling of her hand against her back while she twists her strands, the delicacy, her skin tingling at the contact.
“I'm going to wait for you then.”
Katniss nods.
This moment reminds her of when they were teenagers. The few times she went to Lyn's house, she'd always try to make Katniss as comfortable as possible, she was too hesitant, too hurt to accept the warmth then.
She leans in against the couch, grabs her hand carefully, “thanks, Lyn.”
When she comes back, Madelyn is sitting at the counter eating biscuits.
“Pete?”
“Sleeping.”
Katniss nods, going to the sink to wash her hands.
“He baked your favourites.”
She looks at the plate, frowns, “and yours.”
Madelyn only agrees, smiling.
“So, how was it?”
—
Katniss is out of breath when she stops. There's still a considerable distance to get home, but she decides to walk now. Running has been helping her, when the thoughts and memories get too heavy, and she needs at least some minutes of quietness. But it's still necessary for her to deal with them, Peeta and her have talked about finding ways to deal with everything, they're still figuring it out. Peeta bakes, takes care of the roses, sometimes he just wants to be alone. She still uses the knots Finnick taught her, runs, goes for a swim in the lake, tries to be occupied. That's not the hardest part.
It's when they have to stop and let them come, all the images and sounds.
She starts making her way, slowly. It's Prim's voice she hears first, asking her when she's coming back from hunting. Prim was young in this memory, years before she was reaped, her voice was still very childlike. Katniss is afraid of forgetting how she sounded, of how much she changed throughout the years — she thinks it might be because of that that her mind always goes back to when they were young first, an attempt of keeping the more distant happenings alive.
It takes her a while to realise it, the sounds of footsteps behind her, her body changing when she recognises it. She stops, and can hear that he stopped too.
“I'm okay.” She reassures him.
“Can I come closer?”
“Yes.”
He walks until he's in front of her. His hands are a bit dirty, and his hair dishevelled, Katniss has to fight the urge to not fix it.
“You spent a long time out.”
Katniss only nods.
“Madge was worried.”
She tilts her head, sighs. “I don't know how to… I think she still doesn't understand everything.”
“She always worries,” Peeta says, “it's her way of dealing with things. She wasn't there to see it.”
“You think she feels left out?”
He knows she's asking more than just about the games, the war, and everything they went through after leaving 13.
“No.” He cleans his hand against his pants, looks away, his cheeks look a bit red. “I think she tries to compensate for the fact she didn't go through all we did.”
Katniss agrees, then frowns, “you came here just to check on me?”
When Peeta nods, she can't avoid the smile that grows on her face. Peeta knows her differently than Madge does, this is their moment, when they are away from the house, Peeta does the same. It doesn't matter how long she takes to come back, he is certain she will, and that if she needs help, as hard as it is, she'll ask for it. It's Madge who has attentive eyes most of the time, who cleans the house obsessively when she takes hours to go back home, who keeps herself busy to not worry much. Similarly, neither one of them ask anything though, as if they made a pact of always letting Katniss be the one to talk first, to open herself. She looks at him now, the fact he clearly stopped what he was doing to come to see if she was okay, because Madge was worried.
“I'm fine.” She says it again.
“I know.” He gives her a small smile.
They start walking together. Katniss still has a smile on her face — a feeling has started to form inside her chest.
Later, she wakes up from a nightmare, sweaty and panting. Her vision is blurred, and she can't tell if she's alone, but the thought of being is enough to make her let out a small cry.
“I'm here.” Katniss feels the bed deepening by her side.
“Peeta.” She says, then, because his name is enough.
“Love.” He answers, voice calm and patient.
Peeta doesn't ask or say anything else, he just waits for her. The comfortable silence helps her to calm down, her senses coming back to normal. Madge is sleeping by her side, she can feel it now, can hear her light snore.
She holds out a hand for him and breathes, relieved, he is still here.
—
Madge has a smudge of paint in her left hand, another in her neck, purple, and burgundy.
“I didn't know you were back to drawing.”
“I'm not.” She smiles, leans in the counter so she can kiss Katniss, “Peeta's painting.”
A delicate kiss on her lips, another in the corner of her mouth, Katniss smiles then. “Peeta?”
“I'm still… uninspired,” Madge says, taking some seconds to choose the word. “He's working on a field, I thought maybe I'd get excited to draw again if I saw him painting.” She shrugs.
Katniss nods, “have any of you eaten?”
“We were waiting for you, sleepyhead.”
She grumbles, but there is a smile hiding in the corner of her lips. “So, no inspiration from Peeta. Maybe try to help me make some breakfast?”
Madge laughs, “yes, I bet that's going to get me back on track.”
Katniss rolls her eyes, continuing to knead the dough, “Peeta's much better at this than me.”
“You should only use the heels of your hands,” Madge walks to her side, “he kept saying that when he tried to teach me.”
There's the feeling again. A slight tug in her heart, a swirl in her belly.
—
“A few days ago,” she starts, “on Prim's birthday.”
“Yes?”
“Madge waited for me to come back.”
For a few years now, on Prim's birthday, Katniss goes to the cemetery they've built for twelve. Most of the graves are empty, symbolic. The town's people had united to work on it together, in a heavy silence at first, but with months passing, there was laugh and tears penetrating the choking air of grief — a new form of missing and yearning, a happiness that comes from knowing a person you lost was alive one day, experienced life, and was loved by you. The memories you tell out loud, remembering someone with a nostalgia that is a balm to the heart. Peeta had said it was still grief, another face of it. Madge had stayed eerily silent while placing the flowers on her parent's graves, it wasn't until night she finally spoke, “I still have to build Maysilee's grave. I don't know what to engrave in it.”
She settled for describing her aunt as a missed and beloved sister, no mention of the games, Madge wanted her aunt free of that. It was then that she finally cried. Katniss had never seen her cry before, it shook her. She realised she had never seen Madelyn even seem sad, except for the day she was reaped.
They had talked, the three of them, and decided that they would visit the graves sometimes, on important dates, or just when they wanted or needed to be alone, but feel they were close to those they'd lost somehow. Peeta would visit his family sometimes, no specific dates or frequency, he would not take long, and Katniss knows he sits down and talks to them, but they never really talked about what he says. Madge said she sings to her mum, with her, in a way, but just stays silent when it comes to her dad and aunt. Katniss goes alone sometimes, others, Madge or Peeta go with her, they don't stay close, instead they do the same thing and visit their family and friends. It was weird at the beginning, trying to talk or even feel something when she knew Prim's body wasn't even there, so she only cleaned the headstone and decorated it with the flowers from their garden, the humming songs came with time, a few tears too.
“I know.” Peeta says.
She already knows he's looking at her, book forgotten by his bedside table. “Did she help you bake?”
“Define help.” There's a sweet cadency on his voice, a smirk.
Katniss smiles, then, and rubs her eyes. She's ready to sleep now. “She ate almost all the biscuits. True or false?”
“True.”
—
Madge has her notebook in hands, flicking through the pages as if she's searching for something.
“Peeta?” She calls.
Katniss can watch her from the kitchen, the door to the resting room is open, while she washes a few fruits and vegetables. Madge has her hair pulled back and styled in a way it highlights her eyes and cheeks, she's wearing an orange ribbon to tie a single braid in the middle of her blonde waves, and she has her green dress on. Katniss smiles, she's probably back to drawing.
The first time Katniss had seen Madge wearing more than drab clothes to go to school was on one of her deliveries to her house, her fingers were black at the tips, but she was in a beautiful yellow dress and her hair was braided gracefully, two blue pins holding her bangs. They both stayed in silence when she opened the door, Katniss taking in all of her, and Madge shy as if she had been caught doing something embarrassing.
It was the first time Katniss felt out of breath when seeing someone. She realised that Madelyn was pretty, actually pretty. She had, for many years, confused that feeling with envy and jealousy, it was only when she fell for Peeta (and accepted it) that she went back to this moment with a different perspective.
Some time after their reencounter in 13, Katniss asked Madge about that day.
“What were you doing?”
Madge had blushed, eyes widened, as if she didn't expect Katniss to remember that.
“I… I draw. And, it's silly, really. But when I dress up, it makes me feel more like an artist.”
Katniss nodded, giving a look to her fingers and finally understanding the black dirty in her hands all those days ago. “Do you still do it?”
“Not since we escaped twelve.”
There was a beat of silence.
“You kept this question to yourself all this time?” Madge has something akin to surprise in her voice, but Katniss can see it in her face, there's more to it.
She nodded. “Why?”
“I always…” a small chuckle, “felt a bit embarrassed about that day.”
Katniss frowns, “why?” Her voice sounded too urgent. She usually did back in those days.
Madge blushed even more, “you were looking at me like I had grown a second head.” Katniss felt herself getting warm. “And you stopped coming to my house for the deliveries for two weeks after that. I thought that you thought that I was,” she thinks, “too uptight? Artificial?”
“Why would I think that?”
“I used to dress simply every day. I don't know. Maybe it seemed like I did it only because I wanted to hide the money my dad had.”
“I thought you were pretty.” Katniss had said, not even sure if she wanted to go there, but unable to not do something, seeing the doubt in Madge's eyes.
“Oh.”
It's the sound of Peeta's steps that bring her back to the present. He gets to the room and immediately goes to the table Madge sits on.
“What is it?”
Katniss turns the tap off, and gives a small step behind, so that she can still see them, but not be seen easily. She doesn't know why she's trying to hide, but there's a part of her that needs to watch them and not be a part of whatever is happening.
“What do you think about something like this?” She turns the notebook to him, Katniss can see she is anxious.
Peeta leans forward so he can see it better, supporting a hand on the table and another on the top of the chair. He usually gets lost when looking at art, he has a different eye for it, so Katniss is not surprised when he stays in silence for about a minute. Madge, though, is looking at him with big, rounded and expectant eyes. A similar shade to his.
Katniss remembers her own embarrassment when Johanna caught her looking at Madge in one of her visits to twelve, before the three of them were in an established relationship, “so you do have a type.” She could never ignore the similarities between Peeta and Madelyn after that day.
“Is that…”
“Yes.” Madge confirms it before he can finish the question.
His features change, there's a blush adorning his cheeks, a light that makes him seem even more golden. He turns his eyes to her face, Katniss can feel it before she sees it, the warm smile that grows on his lips.
“When did you draw this?”
“Some months ago, in June.”
Peeta looks at the notebook again, enamoured eyes, searching frantically now that he seemed to discover something that changed the drawing. He seems to find whatever it is, because his smile grows.
“So?” Madge asks, Katniss knows she is holding back a smile.
“I think this works.”
Madge's reactions are always more subtle, too much time rehearsing to be perfect, she explained, trying to compensate for her father's grumpy face and her mum's blank stare. Even when she is with them, when she feels secure, there are times when her smiles only reach the corner of her lips or her eyes. It's one of those times, but there's a strong blush in her neck, even if her smile is delicate and seems controlled. It reminds Katniss of the first time they kissed.
—
It happened some years after they all came back to twelve. Their first talk.
They had already fallen into a routine, orbiting around each other naturally. Afternoons spent together, playing a game Haymitch would try to teach them before losing patience or getting too competitive with Katniss, going for walks in the forest, swimming lessons Katniss gave to both of them. It all felt natural. Too natural.
There were specific moments in the day that they had all silently agreed were essential. At night, before eating and heading to bed, they would all go to the porch. Madge would sit on the balustrade, back against the pillar on the right-hand corner, Katniss sat diagonally to her on a chair that Peeta made. And he'd sit on the stairs, facing left, his back to Katniss. On one of these nights, as Madge laughed about a story Peeta was telling, Katniss noticed how strange her days would be without that moment. How empty and monotonous her life would be, she liked hearing Madelyn singing, liked hearing Peeta telling stories, she missed him when he was away in a way she wasn't used to, she'd get excited to tell Madge about her day. Katniss needed both of them.
But she was not sure how to approach the matter. Opening up to Peeta was hard enough, having to do it all over again after he was captured by the Capitol was torture, she was glad they had managed to work through that, overcome most of his insecurities and fears. And even though Madge was always by her side while she went through it, it was never romantically. Katniss wasn't sure if she was ready to do it all once more.
It was Johanna again. Katniss had gone to the train station to pick her up, and in a manner much like her, she immediately asked about her “lovers” after their quick hug.
“Johanna.”
“Have you really not accepted it yet?”
“I have.” She sighed, “I just don't know how this would work.”
Johanna squinted her eyes, and took a deep breath. Katniss knew then she was about to open up. “Three people in a relationship is not so unusual.” Katniss waited in silence, “the only people I've ever loved, the only that made me feel comfortable enough to be in a relationship, were already dating when I met them. It didn't change a thing. I loved them and they loved me.”
“But you took your time accepting it.” Katniss pointed out, a hint of sarcasm in her voice, but it was humorous.
“We all did, in our own way.” She directed Katniss a look she was not quite used to yet at that point, as if a much younger, naive Johanna was trying to speak. “They already love you, you just need to talk to them, settle the boundaries that work for everyone.”
Katniss nodded, “thank you.”
“You're welcome.” She threw her bags in her hands, “now can we go? I'm starving, and I bet Peeta made me a banquet.”
Katniss smiled, organizing her bags before she started to walk with her. “What about Annie?”
“She's fine.” The calmness in her tone when she spoke about Annie was present as ever. “Anxious to come here next week and bring Irvin to visit you.”
“And Enobaria?”
Johanna clasped her hands together, directed a look to Katniss that was a mix of enchantment and hope. “Better.”
Later that day, when Peeta and her were laying down in bed, he stopped covering himself and turned to stare at her.
“You know I would do anything to make you happy, don't you?”
Katniss paralysed. Turned her eyes to him slowly. “Yes.” It was a whisper.
“It's okay if you love someone else.”
Katniss' heart was beating too fast, too loud. There was a silent question in her face.
“I love you enough to know how easy it is to want you.”
“Peeta why-”
“We should talk to Madge.”
It was kind of embarrassing to think she had been able to hide it. And it would've been even more embarrassing to try to disguise it at that moment.
“Okay.” Her voice had almost no difference to a light breath.
He went back to his nightly ritual as if he had said nothing that important. Grabbing his book and glasses at the bedside table.
“Did Johanna talk to you?” Katniss blurted out.
“Johanna knows?” Peeta turned to her with raised eyebrows.
“Well.”
—
There's a light tune playing upstairs, the house is clean and smelling of lavender. Katniss takes off her gloves and boots at the door and goes to the kitchen to eat something.
She makes herself a cup of hot chocolate and puts some leftovers from breakfast on a plate, not hungry enough to actually cook something. There are some strawberries in a bow close to the sink, Katniss remembers Madge saying something about picking them yesterday, so she guesses they're probably washed already and adds it to her plate before going to the table.
The music gets louder, Katniss recognises it as a traditional song from twelve, and then, lower than the music, there's the sound of footsteps. It takes her some seconds to realise the footsteps are in rhythm — two of them.
Katniss has to fight the urge to go upstairs and confirm if Peeta and Madge are really dancing. They don't know she is home, have probably not heard her coming in. There's something delicate happening between them, something she doesn't want to interrupt. It makes her body tingle, how close they are getting these last few months. She has not said a word about it, in part because there is no need to, but also because she doesn't want to make the connection happen herself. She has been the bridge between them both in the relationship since the beginning, this is their chance to form a connection that doesn't permeate her. They have been friends, confidants at some level — the exchanged looks whenever she does something annoying, or whenever they are about to call her pretty — but never lovers. Katniss doesn't know what or if they have settled on something, but she knows they'll tell her when they're ready.
For now, she is content in hearing their laughs and footsteps above her.
—
Madge had stayed in silence for some seconds, looking at both of them with widened eyes.
Katniss was not much different inside, but she did a good job disguising it to keep Madelyn calm.
“We'd all date?”
“Not necessarily.” Peeta said, “we don't need to have anything.” He gestured between them both.
Madge nodded, brought a hand to her chin and turned her back to them to think.
Katniss turned to Peeta with a nervous look, in answer, he just mouthed, “give her time.”
“Madelyn,” he cleaned his throat, “if you want, I can leave now.”
“No.” Her voice was adamant.
“Okay.”
She kept walking side to side, Katniss was starting to get dizzy, and her nervousness was growing, making it harder for her to keep quiet.
Madge turned to look at them when she was about to ask if she was okay.
“I have…” she cleaned her throat, “I've been liking Katniss for a time now.” Katniss clasped her hands together, started fidgeting, she already knew that and yet, it was different to her saying it out loud. Though she should've expected, since Madge had always been blunt. “A long time to be truthful.”
“Same.” Peeta said, and Katniss only didn't slap him in respect for Madge's confession.
Madge smiled. “But I don't know if I like boys, never really paid them attention,” she approached them again, “would it truly be okay?”
Peeta nods. “It's not exactly…” he stopped, looked at Katniss, “it's not about me and you.” Madge nodded, relieved.
“But I do like having you as my friend.” Peeta added.
In Katniss' memory, that was the first time she could identify a silent conversation going on between them, one she was not able to reach.
“How would it actually work?” She asked then, and Katniss saw her shoulders relaxing, her stare getting more eased.
They kept being just friends. Even when the three of them went out together, even when Katniss would kiss both of them after coming back from a walk, even when Madge moved in, even when Katniss would ask to sleep with both of them, wanting to be surrounded by warmth in her sleep.
—
She wakes up to an empty bed, and lazily stays in bed until she feels like a human being again before getting up. Katniss almost laughs when she looks at herself in the mirror, her hair is a mess, her face is swollen and marked by the sheet textures, Peeta's shirt is stained with a bit of tomato sauce that she spilt yesterday at dinner. She had been so tired that she didn't change clothes before heading to bed.
They all had stayed up late talking in the kitchen, like they usually did on Fridays, Madge had listened about some neighbours getting married, Peeta had heard about their mothers having a dislike for each other and trying to overcome that for the well-being of their daughters, Haymitch kept trying to remember why their mothers had fought when they were younger. No success besides him describing the two big fights they had had years ago.
The cold water helps her wake up as she washes her face. She decides not to take a shower now, feeling too hungry, so after brushing her teeth and tying her hair in a messy ponytail, she leaves the room. The day still seems light enough to be morning, but she thinks she overslept anyway, as she gets older she is tending to do more and more of that. Opposite to her, Madge, who used to sleep more, now wakes up with Peeta almost every day, when the sun has barely risen to it.
Peeta must've fixed the stairs, because the third and sixth step make no sound as she walks down. Which she is thankful for once she reaches the corridor and looks through the gap in the living room door, which is open enough for her to see half of the room.
Katniss stops, silently, looking at the scene unfolding in front of her. They are both on the couch, Peeta holds a book, Madge holds a magazine. She is inclined to Peeta’s direction, she could be touching him if only she bent her body and laid her head on his shoulder. Her heart feels like a liquid, inflammable thing inside her chest. It's too early to feel all this, she thinks.
They haven’t noticed her, and she is grateful, because she wants to understand what is happening first.
Madge then stretches, yawns like Buttercup does and then — with a barely perceptible curl on the corner of her lips — lies on Peeta side, acting like he’s a pillow, even nuzzling her head on his arm, nonchalant, as if she is not distracting him with her movements. He stops holding the book with both hands and secures it in his left, so it doesn’t shake any more.
“Madge…” he adjusts himself by her side, trying to hold back a smile.
“Peeta.” She giggles.
They might be in love, she realises, they might be falling in love with each other. Something shifts inside her.
—
“Darling, did you see my earrings?” Madge gets in the room, hair shining in the sun and a light red lipstick on her lips.
Before Katniss answers she didn't see it, Peeta answers, “is right next to the candlestick.”
“Thanks, Pete.” she says with a smile and walks to the table.
Pete. Katniss notices, a warm feeling in her chest. She called him Pete.
She turns her face slightly so she can look at him, he's smiling, but he doesn't take off his looks from his book. A smile of her own grows on her face. Madge then walks to her and hands her the earrings.
“Help me.”
It’s a small thing, but something Katniss always does for her, putting her necklace and earrings on for her, is their thing.
“Yes,” Katniss says, still smiling, body warm.
Madge whispers a thank you and leans in to give her a peck on her cheek, delicate, but Katniss pulls her in for a kiss, light-headed, delighted. Madelyn smiles against her lips and when they pull apart, caresses her cheek, there's mirth in her eyes. “I love you,” she says then.
Katniss feels a heat in her eyes, in her throat, in her belly, in her chest. “I love you.”
She gives her a brief kiss, and walks to the dressing table again, she opens a drawer and takes out two small orange ribbons from inside. Madge doesn't even say anything, just sits down at the stool in front of the mirror and turns her head to give Peeta a look. Katniss watches in silence, resting her body against the wall and stretching her legs on the bed.
Peeta closes the book, as if he knew she was staring at him even when he was focused reading, and looks at Madge with raised eyebrows, teasing. Madge grabs the brush with her left hand and shakes it in the air. Katniss holds back a laugh, Madelyn might not do it often, or show it that much, but she loves to be spoiled, not just being taken care of, but winning these silent conversations, being able to choose something they'll do, win something because she has big rounded eyes — Katniss always liked to tease her saying this is typical of a mayor's daughter, but the truth is, she can never say no to Madge.
Peeta gets up with a sigh, but there's a smile threatening to grow on his lips. He walks until he's standing behind Madelyn, and then grabs the brush from her hand carefully. After Katniss' mum didn't come back, Peeta wanted to learn how to braid and style her hair, saying that it was something special to Katniss and therefore important to him. He was quick to learn, quite skilful. However, Katniss had never seen him styling Madge's hair before, but with the care he has when separating her strands to not mess up the waves, she thinks he has done it before.
They stay in silence while Peeta does the first braid, he looks at Madge through the mirror, and she nods, then he moves on to the second one and puts the brush on the table. Katniss is in complete silence, controlling even her breathing, it's the first time it's happening in front of her.
Peeta finishes the second braid and then ties a small bow at the top of each one of them, it's a simple hairstyle, half up in braids and half loose, it complements Madge's features perfectly. She turns her face left and right to look at herself in the mirror, and then shrugs.
“I guess that's good.”
Peeta puts a hand on his chest, “you guess?”
Madge laughs then, “I'm kidding,” she supports her head in Peeta's belly and looks up, “thanks, Pete.”
Peeta smiles down at her. “You're welcome, Lyn.”
There is a moment of silence, where they just keep staring at each other. They're talking of something, Katniss knows, and she can feel it's something important, though the words don't reach her.
“I love you.” Madge says, voice so soft it's almost a whisper.
Katniss feels as if the air is knocked out of her body.
“I love you too.” Peeta answers, left hand coming to take off a rebel strand from her bangs out of her eyes.
Madge grabs his hand delicately and kisses his knuckles. Only then, she stops staring at him and lowers her head, never stopping holding his hand on hers, she gets up. Madge gives it a small squeeze before leaving the room.
Peeta looks at Katniss then, she is vibrating, barely able to hide how she feels. He walks to her, and she rises to her knees to meet him halfway. She kisses him with urgent fervour, with the hunger she now knows what it is.
When they pull apart, she is panting. “Are you happy?”
He smiles, gluing his forehead on hers, “yes.”
—
Her footsteps are silent as she walks to their room, the house is quiet, and she supposes they are sleeping. Katniss opens the door carefully, finding both sleeping, sprawled all over the mattress, blonde hair spread everywhere, they looked golden, intertwined. Madge has her head supported in Peeta’s shoulder, her face turned to him, her right hand on his chest, being held by his left one.
Katniss knows, she always does, he had a nightmare. He had a nightmare and Madge held him.
She quickly starts to unbraid her hair, eager to join them. Careful, Katniss gets on bed, she lies right behind Madge, trying to not put too much pressure against the mattress to not wake them up, but Madge opens her eyes, slightly, anyway.
Smiling, she whispers, “do you want to lay in the middle?”
Katniss kisses her shoulder, watches how peaceful Peeta looks with her head resting in the crook of Madelyn's neck, how beautiful they both seem, hands laced together.
“I'm good here.”