#tmr fluff

You walk through the glade simply, making your way over to the kitchen as the gladers gather in for breakfast. Frypan is already hovering over the stoves, the smell of grease and burnt bread filling the wet morning air, grass still crunchy with drops of rain. Fry looks up as you approach, waving a spatula with an easy grin as he abandons his pan for the minute. 

"About time you showed up. I was starting to think you'd decided to sleep until noon," he shouts over the noise of the hungry boys complaining for first and second helpings.

Near the edge of the gathering, Thomas sits awkwardly on a bench watching the other boys with a complicated look. He flinches slightly as a group of Builders walk past him, laughing.

Newt wanders over, leaning his shoulder against a wooden pillar near the kitchen. He glances at you, his expression softer than expected as he wipes his eyes. 

"Morning. Greenie's up early. Still looking as serious as ever, eh?” Newt says, nodding toward Thomas who’s glancing around like he’s simultaneously absorbing and judging everything.

“Think you can help him settle in before Gally finds a reason to throw him in the Pit?" Newt says honestly. 

“I’ll do what I can,” you add in honestly, deciding that starting with Gally would somehow be best if you can find a spot in your day to talk as usual. 

You stand nearby, getting your portion from Frypan before ditching your usual seat with the builders and heading back towards the med hut. Inside, you organize the med hut’s supplies back into their bins humming to yourself calmly until you hear your name being called outside. 

You open the door and step out right as Gally stops in front of you, his arms crossed tightly over his chest. His brow is furrowed as he waits to look at you yet, staring off towards the Maze with a look of pure irritation. His shoulders are rigid with tension, and you wait for him to start like always.

"I saw you staring at Thomas then leaving at breakfast. " Gally says, his voice low to keep this between the two of you, not the other gladers as his eyes land on you. 

"What are you doing giving that Greenie the time of day when he doesn’t pretend to know the first thing about making it here?” Gally says as he steps closer,  clearly frustrated but not threatening as he sighs deeply, running his hand over his face and trying again with a tone that’s quiet and almost pleading. 

"Just stay away from him, he’s a risk, okay? The last thing I need is you getting stuck with a shank like that and whatever he’s planning.”

You stare at him honestly, not defiant but always taking the chance to bother him just a little when he’s like this. 

 “You’re doing that thing again where you expect me to listen to you because you’re mad, I’ll wait until you have an actual argument or maybe a reason to do this at all, maybe start with ‘how are you?’” You say honestly, glancing past him calmly as you stand there and wait for him to continue. 

Gally lets out a sharp exhale as he looks away, planting his feet in the dirt as he looks at you head on. He isn’t angry, not at you, but you feel the heavy sort of frustration he seems to only show around you.

"How am I?" he repeats, a dry, humorless tone taking over his voice as he ducks his head down in disbelief.

"I'm fine. I'm great. Never better. I'm just the one trying to keep this place from falling apart because of shanks like that, while the Greenie seems dead set on getting us eaten alive,” He says tiredly. 

He rubs his forehead again, his eyes narrowing as he catches your calm expression and sighs, his voice dropping from that lofty pitch he has when talking about Thomas or the rules in the glade. 

"I'm just tired, and I mean what I said about Thomas. I don't want some reckless Greenie getting himself wiped out because he thinks the rules don't apply to him."

You smile lightly, heeding his words and stepping closer warmly.

“Clear your mind or something, have you tried maybe ignoring things that clearly stress you out?” You say half jokingly as he drops the topic and pads over closer honestly.

Gally rolls his eyes at your words, a small, reluctant smile at the corner of his mouth. 

"Ignore it. Right. Because that's how the glade works and now we've survived this long. Just close your eyes and hope," he says with a disbelieving laugh.

He falls into step behind you, his boots crunching the earth that’s dried since the rain yesterday. As you walk, he glances sideways at you, his expression softening into something a little more genuine. 

"You know, you’re just too calm about all this, and I don’t just mean the Greenie.”

Right as you’re next to the Medjacks, someone yells from the gardens where Newt was helping out with the tTrackhoes today. Minho is standing nearby, just back from his route with the unners as he gestures wildly while Thomas stares back and forth between everyone, looking both curious and completely overwhelmed. Gally stiffens instantly beside you, his eyes snapping over towards the voices across the glade, ready to blame Thomas for whatever’s going on. 

"Speaking of him," he mutters rubbing his jaw like he wants to say something.

Instead you grab his shoulders, steering him the other way with his arms towards the Med hut. Gally lets out a half-sigh, fighting the action in his head but doesn't actually resist. He lets himself be moved away, stomping his way inside the hut while looking over his shoulder at whatever’s going on.

"You're just avoiding the problem, just like everyone else," he mumbles, though he doesn’t dig his heels in.

He settles into the pace you set, the tension leaving him as you move into the Med hut. For once it’s just the two of you inside and the distant sound of the Gladers working outside. He looks down at you, his voice quieter now as he moves into the main room where you were earlier, sparing a few sleeping Gladers who are in the next area over as patients, glances. 

"One of these days, you're going to run out of ways to distract me, you know."

From across the green, Newt hides a smirk, seeing Gally being led away, shaking his head in amusement to bring up later before returning his attention to the trackhoes.

“Maybe you could try anger management, really,” You suggest jokingly, grabbing his arms as Gally settles into the Med hut.

Gally looks down at your hands, standing tall in front of a table, then looks back up at you, his face twisting into something like pure disbelief at your words.

"Anger management? Like I need some kind of therapist in this trap? That's a new one, even for you," he says, though he doesn't pull away from your touch.

Instead, he lets you lead him, standing a step closer as you drop your hands and he crosses his arms instead, some part of his brain missing the contact already. 

"Seriously, who’s going to teach me? You? The girl who spends her day patching up cuts while bullying me and telling people to play nice?"

It really was ironic, Gally of all people making jokes about bullying purely from your teasing. Maybe you riled him up every so often, but that was just the nature of your thing. You dance on his nerves, and he happily cuts between you and any glader he thinks is trouble, even when the others clearly don’t understand it.

Just as he starts to relax, maybe even lean his forearms down on the table and glance at you with a bit of warmth he’d never admit to, there’s a crash and an echo from the area the builders’ latest repair project takes up in the glade. A few boys shoot something muffled, and something heavy splinters loudly in the air outside. Gally freezes, his posture hardening as he looks toward the source of the noise like he can suddenly see through walls.

“If that was what I think it was, I'm going to lose it."

“Should I try positive affirmations? ‘You look strong’ ‘your eyebrows are giving a less pissed off expression today’?” You throw out mostly to mess with him though affirmations really couldn’t hurt.

Gally makes a face, scrubbing a hand across his eyebrows in disbelief. 

"Positive affirmations. Right. I can't wait for these shanks to hear that the Keeper of the Medjacks is trying to fix my eyebrows," he says, his voice dry but lacking any real heat.

With a beat of silence he lets out a heavy breath, putting his hands on his hips as he looks for strength warmly.

"You are…such a pain.”

With a sigh you match his posture, a shimmer in your eyes as you meet his gaze.

“You, meanwhile, never even ask about me first,” You say honestly, “It’s like I put all the effort in this friendship.”

You mean it mostly as a pointed joke – knowing the checking in and emotional side of things is far from Gally’s strong suit – but he stops in his tracks with a wide eyed look of utter offense. He lets out a sharp breath at the idea.

"Friendship? Is that what you're calling this?" he asks, his voice dropping an octave. He pushes off of the table and steps closer, moving around it to you as if the thought itself is an insult to whatever goes on between you.

"You're not just some shank I put up with for my health, understand that? Don’t play games with me.”

He paces off, thinking hard as he tries not to push too hard and coming to a stop in the doorway of the Medhut, leaning against the doorframe with his arms crossed, staring at you.

“I don't come here for my own gain. Not…like that. I come here because you don’t look at me like some kind of villain every time I open my mouth,” He says honestly as he shifts his weight, almost glancing at the closed door behind him like he hates admitting it with anyone else overhearing.

"And the friend thing, we're not doing that. We can argue.”

“I don’t make assumptions, Gally, I’m just going based off of what’s happened,” you add in as he puts his hands on his hips angrily. 

 Gally lets out a huff, his chest rising as he plants his feet.

"Yeah, but you like to push buttons, right?” he says, his voice starting to strain with the familiar tension you’ve heard in keeper meetings.

 He looks at you, his eyes searching yours for a sign that you’re actually listening and not just playing with him now.

Taking a full step forward, he takes a chance. 

"I'm tired of the games, seriously. I'm tired of pretending that this is just some casual thing between the Keeper of the Medjacks and the Builders,” He pauses like he’s thinking clearly, “It’s not. Not to me. Just tell me you know what I mean and you’re not doing this to see how far you can wind me up or something.”

You push whatever bin of supplies you were working on back into its spot, whatever stock of bandaids left for these clumsy boys suddenly far less interesting than where this was going with the one in front of you. You glance at him, Gally moving back as you pause and taking the chance to clean his hands in a nearby basin like he suddenly wants to look…presentable? — that’s new.

“I do that for my entertainment and your emotional growth,” You offer honestly, defending your poking nature when it comes to him as the faintest blush already rising against his skin becomes definite and he fights to admit it warmly.

Gally instead lets out a sharp sound, a half scoff and half gasp, and nearly jumps back when you come over and reach out to make sure the emotional poke becomes physical. He frantically rubs his wet palms against his dirty trousers, trying to erase the grime while the red tint climbing up his neck gives his turmoil away completely. 

"Emotional…growth, right. Just what I’m focused on.”

He clears his throat hard and attempts to glare at you, the usual heat in his blue eyes really being something far more flustered and eager. 

"I'm not letting you wind me up. I'm just... never mind, you're just impossible,” Gally says as he opens his mouth and quickly shuts it. 

He looks away, his jaw tight and hands now dry, but he doesn’t move to leave or back up as you stay there.

"If you're so bored that you need to mess with me for entertainment, maybe you should just say it."

You stand there for a long minute and blink hard as you piece it together — he doesn’t mind, and he’s feeling…neglected.

“Oh, you’re wanting attention, I think,” You guess as he wipes his face with a tired hand, acting like suddenly the act is the most interesting thing in the world.

His hands stop mid-swipe across his handsome face as your words register. He doesn’t look at you, staring off behind your shoulder and reading some handwritten jar on a shelf, but the silence is as heavy as ever as the bruised blush on his face flames even deeper.

"I don't want anything," he mutters, words sharp and tone nothing but a lie as he lacks all of his usual conviction. Gally turns his head, eyes and gaze reluctantly searching yours as he wrestles with something like desperation.

Against his better judgment, he steps closer, his voice dropping into a whisper so he can test the words before using his full confidence. 

 "I just want to know that I'm the one you're actually thinking about. Not some new shank, not Newt... just me."

“So you do want attention, which I provide, but…you’re aiming for more?” You say with a sweet widening smile as he huffs in disbelief at everything, honestly.

His gaze flicks from nothing to you again, but he doesn’t huff this time. The doubt is there, etched into the way his eyebrows knit together incredulously, but he takes a tentative step forward, then a few more, closing the distance between you as midday heat radiates off of him intensely.

"More," he repeats, the word sounding like a confession he hates to make but accepts for you. He doesn't reach for you, but his hands clench at his sides, fingers twisting and the muscles in his forearms tightening like that’s exactly where his head is at. "I'm not asking for some bit of your time between checkups and patching up these slintheads. I’m asking for a seat at the table."

He tilts his head as you blink, continuing until everything is out there and nothing else lingers in the summer space between you.

"If you're actually asking if I want more, the answer is yes. Now tell me if you're just messing with me again or if you actually feel the same way,” He demands.

“You first have to say how you actually feel, really,” You say honestly after an easy breath, made harder by the intensity he has.

Gally closes his eyes for a second, asking for strength as his jaw works, fighting himself. For a brief second he looks like he’d rather spend a night with Thomas in the pit, but he doesn’t back away. When his eyes open, he looks at you again with that open searching look that makes something in your heart bloom.

"I can't stand it," he admits, his voice serious and nearly raspy, "Seeing you with everyone else, just going about your day, being the one they all go to for everything. It drives me crazy because I want to be the only one who gets that side of you here."

He finally reaches out, his hand hovering just an inch from your waist before clamping on. 

"I love you, you know I do, and it's the most irritating thing I've ever had to deal with in my entire life."

You smile softly, It’s the kind of thing you’ve been trying to get out of the builder forever now. Meanwhile he puts his hands on his hips, waiting for an answer.

“These are the results of emotional growth, say what you mean and you get what you want,” You say with a firm nod.

Gally lets out a heavy, ragged breath, his shoulders dropping before rising again firmer than ever. He knows you’re winning, and for once, he doesn't seem to care about the defeat.

"Fine," he says, his voice sounding thick and entirely serious, making sure his admission stays between you, “I don't want any other shank in this place to have you."

He takes the chance to take the final step toward you, his hands moving from his hips to grasp your waist firmly. He doesn't pull you in yet, but holds you there, firm and serious as he waits for the payment he was promised.

“There. I said it. Now give me what I want."

Your smile widens with intrigue as you get what you wanted, though that raises a question in you about his mind. You don’t push his hand away, instead welcoming the firm touch and grounding nature he has.

“I’m realizing I don’t know what you want,” You say honestly. Something simply you admit because you don’t know any other way to say it. You knew the Gally who had a voice that ran across the glade, spent bonfires wrestling the other gladers, and even the one who always made sure you were okay every morning before taking on his project for the day. But watching him admit everything for once was something you couldn’t predict.

Gally freezes, his grip on your waist tightening at your words like it matters and quickly loosening when he realises it might be too tough against your skin. He pulls back just far enough to look at you closer, a look of sheer disbelief crossing his face that he usually reserved for Thomas.

 "You're kidding me," he scoffs, "I just told you everything in the middle of this med hut and now you’re playing dumb?”

His words are sharp but you know how to translate what he’s not saying, the frustration at everything and his hands won’t let go yet. Instead, he leans in closer putting his forehead firmly to yours as the scent of summer and sweat clings to him, something uniquely comforting and boyish.

"I want you to stop treating this like a shucking debate, and tell me you feel the same way. And then I want to kiss you,” Gally says.

Your eyes nearly bug out at the admission, but you steel yourself quick. Turning your head and nodding softly for him to drop his own a little as he rolls his eyes, not complaining.

“Don’t make me work for it,” He adds with a low groan, just a bit of desperation in his voice but he doesn’t hesitate, leaning down and lowering his head to meet your height with a mix of pride and anticipation on his face.

He stops just inches from your face, his breath warm and clean against your skin. He stays perfectly still, grip firm but listening as he waits.

"There. I'm down here," Gally says honestly, "Now hurry up and get this over with.”

Before you can overthink it, you push forward and press your lips to his for just a split second, before you just pull away.

“You’re easier to handle than you let on,” You say honestly as his eyes search yours warmly. Gally freezes for a heartbeat, the sudden contact leaving him a touch breathless as he swallows hard and leans back in so you don’t pull away for long. His hands slide from your waist to the space of your back, pulling you closer against him with as he closes the gap again, this time with a deep, passionate kiss that tastes of everything he is. 

When he finally breaks away, he doesn't let go, resting his forehead against yours for a solid minute.

“I think I’m getting it now,” You say honestly and lean in again for just a second again. Gally lets out a half winded sound as he accepts the brief kiss. He doesn't let you lead this time, instead tilting your head to ease his pressure and keeping a firm hold on your back.

He pulls back just enough to let you breathe, staying nearby as he adds on to your point. 

“I’m glad I could help you figure it out,” He says with a prideful smile tugging at his mouth, a rare look of satisfaction with himself appearing alongside the easy sunrise blush on his face. 

“Oh and not bad, just maybe let me stand up next time,” He adds with a wider smirk.

“Whatever you say, right,” You say with a sigh, pulling away but not minding as he keeps his hands firmly on your waist.

-🎀-

thinking about!gally before he knew he liked you, who gets frustrated - at the fact you’re on his mind too much. he’d grumble obscenities under his breath whenever he caught himself looking at you or thinking about you as he zones out, when he really should be focusing on his job

thinking about!gally before he knew he liked you, who unconsciously pushes himself harder when you’re watching or near him.

if its when he’s in the fighting pit: he’d roll up his sleeves to the point his muscular arms are bulging out the tight shirtsleeve - making up excuses when asked about it by his friends, saying things like:

“they just feel better when I go to land a punch - no biggie,” (but it isn’t a “no biggie,” those muscles are far from that and he knows it - lets just hope you realise it too)

he’d pull off more tactical moves and stronger throws of his fists.

or if its a normal day of building: he’d take things out of gladers hands, even shoving them out of the way, just so he’d be in your field of vision.

“gally- wait you just said I was positioned here a few minutes ago!”

“not anymore - go and help out, somewhere else shuck-face,”

thinking about!gally before he knew he liked you, who suddenly snaps/scoffs at you randomly. If you’re too close - at the teasing jokes you make, you know what? even at the sound of your voice.

you know and he knows that he doesn’t mean it, after all your good friends, but it starts to confuse you. which only makes him snap back even more.

its almost comedic.

but really it’s just a defensive mechanism to him - a barrier he puts up to help push down bubbling feelings that keep arising in his chest.

-🎀-

gally who thought he was pretty good at keeping his emotions in line, finally ends up cracking when he lets himself sit with his thoughts.

-🎀-

thinking about!gally who now knows he likes you, suddenly becomes ticked off by any guy who gets your attention - he might throw some shade or a sarcastic comment at them but shrug it off when you mention it.

though, if the glader you were speaking to, ever brought it up - he’d go and make a scene out of it.

pushing at gally’s chest a glader steps in front of him, “what the hell dude, what’s your deal?”

shoving the male in front of him slightly he scoffs back, “you wanna find out slinthead? c’mon keep pushing me, dude.”

thinking about!gally who now knows he likes you, does everything in his power to avoid you - whats he supposed to do with these feelings now? why does he keep acting out?

he doesn’t remember any trace of knowledge that taught him how he’s supposed to go about, whatever this even is!

while this existential crisis occurs in his brain, his demeanour does not show any signs of panic. His body seems to just run itself - his expression serious, and his body just a teensy bit more tense when he’s around you, whilst his consciousness suffers inside.

-🎀-

gally who isn’t the type to easily admit his emotions - finally admits that he likes you when his body takes full control and crashes his lips into yours.

this wasn’t how his little declaration of love was supposed to go - but all thoughts of worry slip away when you feel your body melt into his.

gally honestly was never going to get his way by expressing his feelings through his words so maybe his actions might show much he likes you?

but the funny thing is the fact you always knew - you had always liked him - from the moment you met him - but there was no way in this world you’d ever admit that. so imagine how relieved you felt when he finally made the first move.

at the end of the day though, you were as stubborn as he was, maybe thats what makes you so crazy for each-other?

3rd POV

It all went down quickly, better said - it all went down the moment the Gladers finished the first trials. Since then, no time to relax have they managed to get. After escaping WCKD Facilities, they followed Teresa blindly, unknown to them... she'd betray them. Minho, as well as Newt and Thomas, stuck to Y/n's side to ensure they we're all safe when together. Brenda, Jorge, and the rest of the people who are alive were there with them, watching out for any types of threats.

All chaos started when Teresa went to talk with Thomas. All Y/n heard was Teresa apologizing before WCKD helicopters infiltrated their hiding spot. Screams of children, teenagers, rung through the now-disrupted silence. WCKDs guards pointed guns and even shot some of the innocent people as they yelled for everyone to calm down. Minho grabbed Y/n's hand, not letting her go away from him. All the past times, she was forced to leave him, replaying in both their heads. She looked at him, her eyes glistening with tears, as well as a glimpse of fear, knowing what was coming. They will either take them all back to the building or kill them. He squeezed her hand, his gaze never leaving her face; watching her every reaction as her eyes were focused on watching all the chaos go off.

"Minho, Y/n, take cover quickly!"

They both looked back as Newt and Thomas were calling for them. Y/n was the first one, tugging Minho with her as she ran to the small shelter, better sai - a big box. They all gathered and watched the guards, and then Thomas pulled out a gun out of nowhere, getting a look of surprise from Y/n as Minho chuckled at her reaction. He shot a few times, to distract the guards, who were unbreakable apparently.

The guards managed to gather everyone, pushing Thomas, Newt, Minho, and Y/n more roughly than the others, to which Y/n tugged herself away from even harder. Even tho Y/n thought it was a long time it took for them to get all gathered. In reality, it was less than 5 minutes. Everyone gasped as Mary got shot out of the blue. Minho looked at Y/n, his hand holding hers, watching as she trembled from the cold and the fear she might have to go through the same fate as Mary. Thomas used the moment to attack again, throwing a smaller grenade and yelling for everyone to run. Everyone scattered around, guards yelling and shooting, people screaming. She let out a scream of pain as she got shot with their taser guns, groaning and falling over a box.

"Y/n!"

She heard Minho yell, but she couldn't move.

"Minho we can't save her, the guards will shoot us all!"

She heard Newts comforting voice as she was grabbed by two guards and dragged away.

-----------------------------

1st POV(y/ns hallucination)

I was in the Glade. How did I get here?

I watched kids run past me into the Map Room, running after them, but they only seemed to run away. I burst through the door, gasping as I was suddenly in a tunnel of some sort. I tensed up, my breath hitching as I heard clicking behind me, the sound too familiar with me. I turned back, watching the doors open, a Griever stepping out and moving closer to me. I turned my back to it, darting to run as fast as I can, despite not knowing the way. I panted as I ran, narrowly avoiding bumping into the walls, letting out a scream as the griever was closer to me. I stopped in my tracks as I got to a dead end, going to run but not being able to, groaning as I got launched into the air, my body unnaturally sticking to the ceiling. I stopped breathing as the Griever got to the dead end, watching it underneath me, letting out a scream as it appeared right in front me, going to kill me.

--------------

3rd POV(inside the lab)

"How is she?" Ava Paige asked as she looked at Y/n yelling and screaming in pain as she had various tubes and needles stuck to her. "Not as effective as she was in the Maze, but it can do," the doctor said, not noticing Y/n stopped, staring blankly at the floor as a tear slid down her face. "Continue," Ava Paige said and left.

--------------

1st POV(Interrogation room of a sort)

I was barely listening to Teresa talk, too busy thinking of ways to kill her to respond. I got an idea as she stood up to leave, quietly calling out for her.

"Teresa"

I called her, it was a whisper. She stopped to look at me, stepping closer to me as I slowly gazed up with my eyes, which were hooded from all the torture and tiredness. As she was close enough, I again decided to speak, this time, my voice filled with hate.

"You're a TRAITOR!"

I yelled, standing up and grabbing her neck, pushing her against the table, and hitting her head again as she let out a startled yell. The guards outside heard the commotion, barging in and grabbing me as I yelled at Teresa, who was shaken and still hasn't spoken.

-----------------

3rd POV

Minho, Newt, and Thomas managed to sneak into the WCKD headquarters with Gallys help. He got the reserve guards's suits and masks, as well as weapons. They made sure to firstly ensure other kids were safe, letting them out of their rooms, sharing concerned looks as Y/n wasn't here. They forced Teresa to help them look, Janson joining them in the elevator as the three boys shared looks. After the elevator stopped, Teresa got out, the boys following her, Mimho nudging Jansons shoulder on purpose.

"Someone moved her to the medical wing. Thomas, that's on the other side of the building."

Teresa said as she was looking at the data.

"Then lead the way"

Minho said as a command. And she did, leading them to the medical wing when all hell rose. Alarms blasted, sirens filling their ears and guards chasing them at every corner. Teresa managed to sneak away, but Minho, Newt, and Thomas yelled Y/ns name. Y/n blinked as she heard familiar voices, getting out of the sedative she was under, hearing the guard alarm the doctor. She tightened her hand on the knife she managed to find, suddenly stabbing a nurse, attacking the guard, and knocking him down. The doctor grabbed her, trying to inject her with the sedative, but Y/n pushed his arms away, injecting him with it. She darted to leave, avoiding the guards as they tried to shoot her. She ran into a guard, throwing him against a glass wall, panting as she saw her three friends. Minho stopped in his track, taking in how tired she looked. He quickly made his way to her, wrapping his arms around her, making her struggle to breathe as she relaxed into him.

"Is this real?"

She whispered, smiling a bit. Minho nodded, kissing her firmly and pulling away to let Newt and Thomas hug her. The guards shot at them, and Thomas guided them into a room, locking it as they entered. They froze as the guards started to cut the door with a saw, Thomas made his way to the windows, looking down at the pool.

"I have an idea, it's crazy tho"

Thomas said, and Y/n, Minho, and Newt just gaped at him like he was crazy. They broke the window a minute later, looking down and taking a few steps back. Thomas looked back as the door burst open, before darting to the window, the rest of the group following him as they all yelled his name while they fell.

"THOMAS!"

Their yells ran out in the silence as they fell into the water, swimming to the surface and gasping.

"That...was...crazy"

Y/n panted, and Minho helped her get out of the pool, his hands on her waist as he looked down at her to make sure she wasn't hurt. She blushed nervously, a small smile on her lips. He kissed her again, this time slower, ignoring the groans from Newt and Thomas in the background. Minho did what he promised to himself, and that was save his girl.

Instead you suggested using a mix of mud and grass to create a layer on the outside of the walls. Gally had used it on a smaller scale like with Frypan’s food smoking hut and the food storage hut.

It kept any humidity outside, it provided a thick layer of insulation and it was readily accessible. The builders immediately began to put your plan into practice covering the outside of their newly built hut with the mixture.

An alarm sounded as the last supply box before the storm hit was sent up into the Glade. Everyone dropped what they were doing in favor of checking the supply drop.

A clank echoed through the area as Alby opened the outer shell of the box. Gally dropped himself into the box alongside two other builders to help take out all of the supplies.

The boxes contained extra blankets, some dry food and some sleeping bags. 

“Alright! Everyone, back to work,” announced Alby, placing his hands around his mouth for emphasis.

You began to count out each of the supplies, writing them down for inventory. As you finished the count for the blankets you sighed making your way over to Alby’s hut.

You knocked on his door hearing a quiet enter before pushing it open.

“I know that look. Please, I can’t take any more bad news,” Alby massaged his temples, unable to look at you for longer.

“Well, good news? It’s an easy fix. Bad news? Most people won’t like it,” you grimaced already expecting the reaction.

“Okay, lay it on me,” sighed Alby, readying himself for the bad news.

“There aren't enough blankets for everyone in the Glade,” your words came out slowly, hoping to soften the blow.

“What about the sleeping bags?” he asked.

“I already took those into consideration, it's still not enough,” your finger tapped nervously on the side of your leg.

“Okay, so what is the easy fix?” Alby said slowly hoping to delay the inevitable answer.

“We’re going to have to share,” you replied slowly.

Alby groaned even if he already knew that it was coming. Making boys who were at the height of puberty intent on outdoing each other share a blanket was going to be difficult. 

“Fine, I’ll call a meeting,” he left his hut. 

———————

Alby’s meeting had gone as well as you had both predicted with boys already claiming they’d rather sleep outside than share a blanket. Some were faster and claimed the sleeping bags while others took to claiming their sweaters and pants were enough. 

Chattering could be heard through the main hut as you made your way over to Newt’s hut. As one of Alby’s helpers you were usually higher priority than most Gladers but lower than Keepers. It worked out for you since you got to stay in a hut with four others rather than half the Glade. 

Newt and the guys sharing the hut with you were already inside each of them taking a spot. The floor was mostly covered leaving little to no space for you.

“Guys? Where am I going to set up?” your question fell on deaf ears as the boys in the floor remained soundly asleep.

Newt shifted from his position on his bed looking over at the floor before looking at you.

He gulped nervously before making space for you in his bed, “You can sleep here? If you want of course and I’ll face the other way there won’t be anything for you to worry about. Not that there’s something for you to worry about.”

You laughed at his nervous rant tiptoeing your way through the maze on the floor avoiding stepping on anyone. The pillow on your hand fell next to his one third of it hanging off the side. 

“Oh, here,” he lifted the blanket so you could slide in shivering as he felt some cold air drift inside.

“Thanks,” you slide your body under the blanket happily already feeling better as you feel the warmth of the bed soak into your skin.

The both of you became aware of how small the bed was putting the both of you right up against each other. An awkward pause caused the tension to double, making you shift awkwardly in place.

Newt shifted away from you, taking the blanket with him. The cold air nipped at your side causing you to shrink away from it and closer to Newt. He felt your shivers quickly putting his comfort aside to place the blanket over you properly.

“Look, this doesn’t have to be awkward. It's just two people sharing a blanket. We can do that,” although your words came out confidently you still didn’t move from your spot.

“Yeah, of course. Two completely normal people,” he swallowed down his nerves before pulling you to his chest, “To maximize the blanket usage.”

You could feel your heart thump against your chest and hoped he couldn’t feel it, “Yeah, maximize.”

The two of you laid under that blanket slowly melting into each other as the night continued and your eyelids grew heavier. The quiet Glade, the warmth beneath the blanket and the reminder that you weren’t alone was enough to relax you into slumber. The night had brought you closer in more senses than just literal and you hoped maybe one day you’d be brave enough to admit to wanting him close all the time.

taglist: @eli-chris

It was Sunday, meaning you both had the entire day off from work and when these days came around, you always took full advantage of them. During the week, you were both constantly busy; Minho off in the maze from dawn until the sun began to set behind the walls, and you in the medhut all day treating the rest of the gladers who showed up with injuries.

All work came to a halt on Sundays, the day being treated as if it were a holiday by everyone in the Glade. Almost everyone would spend their 24 hours of peace lying in and simply chilling the shuck out, our one day of bliss if you will.

As you ran your fingers gently through your boyfriend's hair, lying together in silence, you felt his head shift against you as he tilted it back to look up at you.

You smiled softly at him. You could stay here forever. "Hey," you cooed.

He returned the smile, looking up at you like you were the sun, the moon, and the stars combined, "Hey back."

A few strands of his dark hair fell in front of his eyes, his head tipping further back so he could get a better look at you. You carefully brushed the hair away from his eyes, "Your hair's getting long, isn't it."

"Yeah, and it's been bothering me for the past two shucking weeks," he mumbled lowly in displeasure, "it's started to get in the way when I'm running, not very ideal, can't even see where I'm going anymore."

You chuckled at your boyfriend's exaggerated words before an idea popped into your head, "Hey, why don't you let me cut it for you?" continuing to stroke his hair gently.

"Mmmm…I don't know if I trust you enough with scissors around my hair," he joked, "don't know if you've noticed, but I take great pride in these gorgeous locks."

It's true. He spends at least 30 minutes of his mornings just styling his hair; making sure it looks just right.

"Oh come on," rolling your eyes at the boy lying on your chest, "I cut my own hair all the time, I'm basically an expert at this point."

His head dropped back down to its previous position, stroking his fingertips up and down your arm, thinking the idea through, before lifting it back up to your gaze once more, "Fine. But if you mess up, we are so over."

You smiled brightly at him, before moving from your position to climb out of the blankets, rolling over him to plant your feet on the floor of the hut. He groaned as you pulled on his arm, forcing him out of his previously comfy spot in the bed.

Still gripping his arm, he plodded closely behind you as you led him into the small bathroom in your hut - One of the perks of being the only girl in the glade; having your own hut. Which also means having your own bathroom.

"Okayyy," once in the bathroom, you placed your hands on his shoulders, "Sit please." The wide grin plastered on your face was making him much too nervous for his liking, yet still, he obliged, taking a seat on the toilet that sat in the corner of the cramped space.

Turning your back towards him, you searched for the pair of scissors that you regularly used to cut your hair. After a few seconds of fiddling in the drawer between the sink, you turned back to face him, snapping the shears open and closed in front of him.

"Yeah…that smile on your face is not concerning at all," he stated, sarcasm clear in his voice. The comment only caused you to smile even wider, "Would you relax, it's gonna be fine, I know what I'm doing you shank."

As you stepped closer to him, scissors in hand, his body leaned away from you, clearly indicating apprehension. "Minho, if you don't want me to cut your hair just say so, please. I wouldn't even be upset," you drew a cross over your heart, "swear."

He quickly reassured you, "No, no, that's not it…I just-you can understand my concerns though, right?"

Your eyes softened, giving him a tender smile, "Of course I can, but I assure you, once again, I know what I'm doing, okay?" He sighed sharply, before simply nodding his head in response.

You were now standing between his legs, gently running your fingers through his dark hair once again. "Okay, I'm starting, you ready?"

"Yeah, yeah, let's just get this over with already."

Positioning your free hand on the back of his head, to give you stability, you began snipping the hair on the top of his head. The first 'snip' of the scissors caused him to wince slightly in anticipation of the next cut.

Black strands of hair began slowly falling to your feet as you continued snipping off small sections of Minho's overgrown hair. Your fingers combed through his hair, directing it in an upward direction before stopping, where you'd cut off about an inch.

By the time you had finished working on the top of his head, you moved and used your free hand to angle his head down so you could begin working on the back.

Starting from the nape of his neck working up, you snipped away at the course hair. Minho's forehead was now resting on your stomach as you very carefully made sure not to nick his scalp with the sharp tool in your hand, "Mmm, feels s'nice," he grumbled into your midsection.

It was very clear that your previously reluctant boyfriend was now enjoying the lengthy process of getting his hair trimmed by you. A smug smile replaced your, once stoic, expression, "Mmm, I know sweetie, just relax m'kay."

His hands slid up from their prior position by his side, leisurely making their way up your bare legs to sit just below the hem of your shorts under your ass, his fingertips tenderly drawing circles on your smooth skin.

You finished up the back of his head, cutting it nice and short; just the way you know he likes it to be. You tilted his head to the right, then to the left, tapering off the sides. Finally, you lifted his head up, your finger softly positioned under his chin as you gave the completed haircut a final look-over.

As you studied your work for any needed improvements, you could feel your boyfriend's gaze burning into your face. "The shuck are you staring at you, dong?" you quipped as your fingers raked his hair, making sure it was even.

His eyes not straying away from you, "The beautiful girl standing in front of me," not an ounce of sarcasm in his voice.

You couldn't have hidden the bright beam that crept its way onto your face even if you tried your hardest.

"Okay whatever," rolling your eyes playfully, "I'm done, so would you go to the mirror and look at it, please."

The warmth on the back of your legs abruptly disappeared as Minho made his way over to the sink to take a look at his, now much shorter, hair in the mirror. He examined it carefully, turning his head in all different directions - very obviously trying to mess with you.

A few more head turns later and you were getting very impatient, awaiting a response from the puckish boy standing before you, tapping your foot hurriedly against the floor, your arms crossed over your chest.

Finally, he turned to face you with his lips pursed and squinted yes, as if he were about to tell you that he didn't like it. Your heart dropped in your chest with the thought, until he, at last, said something, "I love it."

Relief coursed through your body, your head falling back, accompanied by a long sigh.

Minho snaked his arms around your waist, peppering kisses along your throat before moving to your face, causing you to shake your head around in a poor attempt to get him to stop, giggles escaping from your lips, "Stop it, shuckface."

Your palm slipped between his lips and your face, pressing against his lips to push his head back, "Do you really like it, or are you just scared of hurting my feelings? Cause I'm a big girl y'know, I can handle the truth," your eyes squinted as you searched his for answers while your arms remained by your side, refusing to hug him back until he answered.

He laughed in response, "Of course I like it, I'd tell you if I didn't, honest," withdrawing one of his hands from your waist to draw a cross over his heart, just like you had done earlier.

A big smile replaced your once blank expression, finally lifting your arms to squeeze him back, dropping your head onto his shoulder in satisfaction. You still held the scissors in your right hand, so you had to make sure not to accidentally scratch him with them.

"I hope you know that you'll be cutting my hair for me every month from now on," your boyfriend stated, resting his chin on the top of your head.

"Exactly the reason why I've never offered to cut your hair before," mumbling into his shoulder.

The two of you swayed from side to side in each other's arms, enjoying the rare quiet of the glade. Sundays will truly always be your favourite day of the week.

you lick over drying lips, folding your knees against your chest and discarding the broken weed. "i think so."

thomas passes a glance over newt at his right, clapping his palms awkwardly to fill the silence. "you want to tell us what you're thinking about?"

you shrug, choosing to pick at a fraying shoe lace. "just about last night. i feel like i can't really think straight since i woke up. it's like.." you pause when newt retracts his hand. "it's like i'm kind of walking through water or something. i don't remember what that feels like, but i think it's something like that... but in my head."

newt rakes a worried hand through his hair, dropping his weight back onto his arms behind him. "i think we were too hard on you last night, love." he shares a look with his partner. "do you think so too?"

your bottom lip spills out and you shake your head. "i liked it."

newt nods. "think you're still a little subby, princess. that's all."

you look up through your lashes, but thomas beats you to the punch. "what's that?"

newt starts up. "well, when we, or one of us, take control of the situation in the bedroom, and we're more dominant, you tend to submit. does that part make sense?"

you both confirm with a silent nod.

"well, when you're put in a mindset like that, sometimes it lingers. it stays with you outside of the bedroom when we don't properly bring you out of that mindset and bring you back to our day-to-day dynamic. the dynamic where we all feel like equals and no one is dominant over the other." he properly explains, and thomas nods along.

"so, tommy, you have to make sure to give her proper aftercare, yeah?" the brit explains, now drawing a soft hand across your knee. "otherwise she's still going to be stuck in that mindset. like now."

"i'm sorry," you purl through another wave of warning tears. "i'm sorry. i didn't really mean to do this."

thomas shakes his head. "hey, hey, it's my fault. it's our fault, we forgot to take better care of you, okay? we're still learning, and i promise we'll get better with it."

𝗥𝗢𝗟𝗟𝗜𝗡𝗚 𝗢𝗩𝗘𝗥 onto my side, legs brushing against my sheets, I smile at the FaceTime call on my phone, but it's bittersweet. On the other end of the video call sits my boyfriend, the soft smile on his face mirroring my own. From where he sits, I can see the San Francisco skyline out his hotel window, highlighted by the rising sun.

“I miss you,” I mumble, studying the lines and contours of his face and wondering if they've changed since the last time I saw him in person. If I've missed any change; any detail while we've been separated. If anything has changed or tipped the balance since we've been apart. 

I'm not insecure in my relationship with Gally, but be long distance for enough time and everyone gets in their head about it. Catches themselves wondering; doubting.

“I miss you more every time we have to part,” I add, watching the bitter take over the sweet in my boyfriend's eyes for a few seconds before he replies.

“I know, baby, I know.” His gaze wanders into the space between the atoms, his mind leaping forward into the future as he assures both me and himself, “Once my contract with WCKD Enterprises is up, I'll be able to move back to Denver. We'll be back in the same city.”

My smile is tired, only half there, and Gally knows it. It's been months since I've held him in my arms. This long distance routine is wearing us both out. We're both running out of steam—not for each other; not for our relationship, but for the complexity that being long distance has brought to our relationship. Conflicting schedules, spotty internet, the deprivation of physical contact with the person we crave it from the most…it's all beginning to pile up, and we both know it.

In an attempt to change the subject, I ask, “When is your flight back to Chicago again?” I already know, but I'm not sure what else to say, and besides, it's always good to check.

“Your birthday,” comes the cheeky reply, my eyes rolling of their own accord as I secretly admire the handsome grin on my boyfriend's face. But all too soon, his grin fades.

“I'm sorry I can't be there for your birthday,” he says gently. I wave him off, assuring him that I'll be just fine.

“Bren, Tes, and Sony are planning something. Won't tell me what, though.” I sigh before admitting, “It won't be the same without you. But your work's important.” Gally smiles gratefully, but there's cracks in the smile, and my stomach sinks. Guilt over my last comment settles in my digestive tract. “Sorry,” I mumble.

“No, no, don't apologize,’’ Gally says quickly. “You're allowed to be sad that I can't be there.” His amiable grin morphs into a scowl, “Tried to get Janson to give me the time off, I really did. But that rat wouldn't do it.” I give Gally what I hope is a reassuring smile.

“It's okay, babe.” We fall into silence, not necessarily comfortable, but not bad either, before Gally interjects,

“It'll be nice to be in my own apartment, though. I'm getting sick of all these Californian hotels. I'll be glad to be home, smog and noisy L-trains galore.” I chuckle, knowing that Gally loves Chicago because of its quirks, not in spite of them.

Still, Denver has always been home to me. But Gally and I've decided to cross that bridge when we get to it. We've got enough to think about as it is.

I'm trying to come up with another conversation topic, since I don't have work until later today, but unfortunately, Gally isn't so lucky. It’s the perks of working from home as a crisis hotline counselor, I guess. The hours aren’t as demanding, since the work itself is.

“Shoot, I have to go,” he hisses. “I'm sorry, princess. I'll call you tonight?” I nod, forcing myself to look forward to tonight's call, rather than be sad that this one is ending. “Alright, good that,” Gally grins. “I love you, babe!”

“I love you, Gal,” I smile and wave goodbye. The half-baked grin melts right off my face once he's hung up. Gosh, I miss him so much. 

There's only so much comfort a video call can give.

Teresa calls me soon after Gally hangs up, blabbering on and on about a date she'd had with some guy named Ben, but I can't focus on her stories like I normally would. Usually, I'm all in to hear my friend's tales, but my mind is still fixated on the miles separating Gally and I. Something in me wonders how much longer we'll be able to go without holding each other. How much longer we can stand to be separated.

When we first started dating, I could have gone months, as long as we were still interacting. But as my love for Gally increased, the length of time I could stand to be without him decreased. 

I'm fully, unashamedly in love with Gally now, and part of me wonders what I would do to be living in the same place as him. To be in his arms for good. The easy answer—the most raw answer—is anything. I'd do anything for him.

“(Y/N)?” Teresa's voice brings me out of my thoughts, her suspicious tone confirming that she's noticed my lack of focus today. “You weren't listening, were you?” To an outsider, her tone might sound harsh; reproachful, even, but I know her too well. She's not mad. Just annoyed she'll have to repeat her story if she wants me to hear it.

“I'm sorry,” I mumble, and it's sincere. I am sorry that I lost focus. But I don't apologize for pining after my faraway boyfriend. There's no reason to, for one, and two, I won't ever apologize for thinking of him. For missing him. 

Teresa is grinning at my distracted tone, I can tell. Even through the phone, I can tell. “You're good. Dreaming about your bae, aren't you?” 

I don't hesitate to admit, “Yes. I miss him more than I thought was even possible.” I hear Teresa's hum from the other end of the phone.

“You need to see him,” she declares. I scoff.

“Believe me, I know, and we're trying to figure out when he can next visit, but we're both just so busy.” Teresa clucks her tongue, the sound distorting oddly through the phone speaker. I imagine it running across the telephone poles, through the wires, twisting and bending and knotting out of shape as it flies all the way to me.

“I didn't mean like that, (Y/N). You need to go see him.” I chuckle, I wish I could.

“He's busy, Tes. Besides, he isn't even in Chicago right now,” I reason. This doesn't deter her.

“Well, when will he next be in Chicago?”

“His flight's on my birthday.” 

“That's perfect!” Teresa squeals. 

“How is that perfect?” I huff.

“You can fly out and spend your birthday with him! Surprise him!” 

I actually laugh at this. “Um, no, I can't. I don't have the kind of money to just throw down for plane tickets. Besides, weren't you, Brenda, and Sonya planning something?” 

“Well, yeah, but we could always change plans if we needed to,” Teresa says as if it's the most obvious thing in the world. On any other day, I would entertain this kind of silly daydreaming, but today, I already felt lonely enough.

“Sorry, Tes. Those spontaneous decisions are not my cup of tea,” I sigh, and I think she can tell I'm shutting the conversation down. She lets it go, and I thank her silently, forcing the ache in my heart left by Gally's absence to venture to the back of my mind. If I waste the day away, it'll be evening again, and then he'll call, just like he said. 

And so despite the fact that I know wasting the days away is bad for me, I do it anyway. Just today, I tell myself. Just today.

Of course, I know I'll do it again tomorrow, and the next day, and all the hours in between my calls with Gally. It's ridiculous, how they all say having space helps one think clearer, when having space just distracts me by making me miss him that much more.

When he's gone, I'm reminded that much more that he's all I need.

_______________________________

𝗜𝗧’𝗦 𝗦𝗘𝗩𝗘𝗡 p.m. by the time Gally calls, his eyes lighting up when he sees me despite the exhausted, burnt out look on his face. I'm equally as ecstatic as he is to revel in the gaze of my lover, both of us simply brushing every inch of each other's faces with our eyes, memorizing each other for the millionth time. It won't be the last time, either. I could never get tired of scanning my gaze across his skin, memorizing every inch of his beautiful face. 

In our current situation, it's the closest I can get to kissing every inch of his beautiful face.

Gally is the first to break the silence, and I'm okay with it. He's the one who's had a long day. He knows what he needs to talk or not talk about. I just love hearing his voice. 

“How was your day, baby?” he asks, a tired sort of happiness seeping into his voice. Like I'm giving him some kind of rest just by smiling at him.

“It was good. Uneventful.” I shrug, knowing that I'd barely moved from the chair I occupied now. “The real question is, how was your day, my love?” 

Gally grins at the pet name. He always does. It's the same reaction that I have whenever he uses terms of endearment on me. It's our own personal love language of sorts. How many different ways can I call you mine?

“My day was okay,” Gally says quietly, sighing when he sees the look on my face. The one that tells him to lay it on me; rant if it'll make him sleep better tonight. “Well, it was…mediocre,” he amends, running a hand through his short hair. “Tim was being an ass. As always.” I nod sympathetically, understanding the deep hatred he harbors for his coworker.

Why Gally doesn't like Tim, I'm not exactly sure, but I know it has something to do with taking credit for a project that Gally did all the work on. It resulted in a harsh lecture from their boss for Gally, who was presumed to have slacked off, and a promotion for Tim. 

Anyone who knows Gally knows that he would never slack off. He takes duty and work seriously; more seriously than anyone else I've met, in fact. I know my boy. He wouldn't hurt his company's productivity, even if his boss is an asshole like Janson.

“I'm sorry Tim was giving you trouble, baby,” I croon, watching the aches and tension of the day seeping out of his stiff shoulders at the sound of my voice. His smile weaves its way back onto his face. It's a soft, vulnerable smile, the one that makes me want to take him in my arms and just hold him like the precious treasure he is.

“I wish I could hug you,” Gally groans, rubbing his chin with his fingers before trying to regain his composure. “Sorry…I don't mean to bring everything up again. I just…I just miss you.” My comforting smile wobbles, knowing that those same thoughts are eating away at me inside, but I bring the happy thoughts back to the surface and my grin rights itself.

“Soon, love, soon,” I murmur, knowing I can't truly promise anything with how busy our lives have become. But soon doesn't have a time slot or expiration date. I can promise soon and define it later. All I know is that it brings a smile to my boy's face, and that's what I need right now. 

We spend the rest of the night talking, lifted by the promise of Soon, love, soon, knowing that it could very well mean a long, long time. 

_______________________________

𝗦𝗨𝗡𝗟𝗜𝗚𝗛𝗧 𝗦𝗧𝗥𝗘𝗔𝗠𝗦 in my bedroom window, blinding me when my eyes flicker open. But once I blink away the black spots in my vision, I see that the sunlight isn't the only reason I was pulled from the comforting arms of sleep. 

Brenda, Teresa, and Sonya are standing at my bedside, my sheets in a bunched up ball in Sonya's hands. I groan, trying to roll away, but Bren, ever the fearless one, grabs my shoulder and pulls me back to face them.

“Get up, (Y/N). No spending the day moping,” she orders. I heave out an exaggerated sigh, making my body intentionally limp as Brenda and Teresa each grab one of my arms, pulling me upright until I have to support my own weight. 

“Sometimes I really regret giving you guys my apartment passcode,” I comment, leading Sonya to pinch my arm. I yelp, rubbing the red mark as I get manhandled out of my pajamas and into a new outfit by my best friends. “What—what are you crazies doing?” I splutter, quickly taking the pair of jeans from Teresa's hands before she can try to shove them on my legs, opting to put them on myself. 

“We aren't letting you mope around until Gally visits. Who knows how long that would be? It's not healthy,” Sonya explains, linking an arm through mine as the three girls drag me to the bathroom. Brenda shoves my toothpaste-loaded toothbrush into my hand as Tes starts pulling my hair brush through my hair.

“Ow,” I complain around a mouthful of toothpaste suds, pulling away from Teresa's assault on my tender scalp momentarily to spit. She and Sonya make quick work of my slightly frizzy hair, tag teaming it to create a fun yet elegant braid. 

“Beautiful,” Sonya sighs, leaning back to admire her handiwork. Brenda, on the other hand, seems to have some kind of mental checklist, full of all the tasks she must see me complete.

“Breakfast is next,” she commands, and I find myself being pulled into my kitchen, watching helplessly as my friends dive into making us a scrumptious, sugary feast.

I have to admit, the fluffy blueberry pancakes filling my stomach certainly make venturing out into the world much easier than I expected. I only feel the need to text Gally three times before leaving my apartment with my friends, rather than the usual five to ten. Whether these texts are to let him know I'm fine or to make sure he's fine, I've never been able to figure out. Maybe they're both. Either way, it's a good thing Brenda shoved my meds into my hand before breakfast. 

When I'm here alone, I don't take them. Sometimes I skip them on purpose, sometimes I just forget. But either way, I don't take my anxiety meds unless Brenda is there to shove them down my throat. Thinking about it, I'm grateful she's here to force me to take them today. With all of these mixed up feelings about being separated from Gally for so long, having more control over my anxiety will be good.

A day shopping with my best friends is a good distraction from the painful loneliness I've been feeling without Gally. It's not exactly a cure, but it's close. My friends know this; know their own limitations, and so they do the best they can.

And I'm so grateful that they've put in the time. Put in the effort. All for me.

“Thank you,” I whisper to them as we sit in our favorite coffee shop, sipping oat milk lattes. 

“Of course,” Brenda immediately responds.

“We love you,” Sonya adds.

“We know we aren't your boy,” Teresa chimes in, “but we're your best friends, and that means we stick by you. No matter what.” She leans over to rub my arm. “When you're down, I'm down. We wanted to help pick you back up.”

The smile on my face is genuine for the first time in a long time, knowing that my friends love me enough to support me despite having the knowledge that they can't give me everything I need. They give what they can, and accept me when it doesn't fix everything.

I haven't always had friends this good, and I look up at the sky, thanking the heavens that I've been blessed with such good friends now.

_______________________________

𝗧𝗪𝗢 𝗗𝗔𝗬𝗦 before my birthday, I can’t get Teresa’s half-joking, hare-brained idea out of my head. Realistically, I know that the likelihood that I could find a flight on my birthday to Chicago that isn’t full (or way too expensive) is slim. Realistically, I know that I don’t have the money for plane tickets right now. Realistically, I know that flying halfway across the country on a whim to see my boyfriend is ridiculous. 

But when Gally sends me his flight information, knowing I like to watch his progress and get confirmation when he lands safely, I find myself checking flights from Denver to Chicago, telling myself it’s just out of curiosity. Because what if there is a flight to Denver from Chicago on my birthday? What if there is a possibility that I could see Gally on my birthday? What if there is a chance that I could have this gift; the only one I truly want?

If there’s even a chance to see Gally on my birthday, I want to know. 

Gally’s flight information is pulled up on my phone, which is next to me on my desk as I scroll through flights on my laptop. My right thumbnail is between my teeth, bitten down to the quick and then some. It seems that flying is a popular travel option right now, as flights are filled even into places like Dawson County, Montana. Every flight I find from Denver to Chicago is either full or too expensive for someone just out of college, like me. The cheapest is $374, and I know rationally that blowing through that much money would be devastating for my finances. 

I swear under my breath, angry at myself for even getting my hopes up. It was a stupid idea to check the flights, and I find myself wishing I could go back in time to stop myself from looking. The disappointment grows even larger knowing that there would be a way to get to him if I wasn’t a broke post-college student making minimum wage in the Mile-High City. Then the disappointment and anger melt away, leaving me with a heart wrenching sadness that feels so empty and yet so all-consuming that I can’t help but break down into tears.

I don’t want to let myself cry about a silly daydream that was unlikely to happen anyway, but I’d let myself entertain the thought of seeing Gally soon; of holding him close and kissing him until we couldn’t breathe, and now everything else seemed pale in comparison. It wasn’t that my life had no purpose outside of him—I’d made it very clear when we started dating that the two of us needed to make sure we had lives outside of our relationship, too. But Gally had become a part of me; my favorite part of me, in fact. I was perfectly happy with the life I had, but Gally made it even sweeter. And knowing that sweetness was mine but was inaccessible made the absence of it even more palpable. Even more unbearable.

Crumpled into a heap on my floor with tears slowly leaking from my eyes is how Teresa finds me when she opens my door fifteen minutes later. “Hey, girl—” she calls before seeing me, rushing to my side with a worried, “Oh, my gosh, what’s wrong, (Y/N)?” I just shake my head, the waterworks turning back up to full blast.

“I miss him so much,” I sob as she gathers me in her arms, unable to care that I sound pathetic. 

“Oh, I know, darling, I know,” Teresa coos, rocking back and forth with my shaking body, whispering comforting words into my ears just like she always does when I get so worked up. My chest heaves as I try to catch my breath, hand flying up to wipe the snot from my nose, but of course, the minute it’s gone, more replaces it. I’m past the point of an easy calm-down, instead finding myself close to the edge of hyperventilating. Thankfully, Teresa isn’t a stranger to my emotional meltdowns, and she isn’t afraid of them, either. Instead, she’s the kind of friend who will take my hand and guide me through it.

“Did you take your meds this morning?” she asks cautiously, to which I shake my head in embarrassment. Tears are still pooling in the corners of my eyes as I manage to get out,

“I’m sorry.” 

Teresa just shushes me calmly. “Don’t apologize. It’s in the past now. I just wanted to know.” I nod shakily, the soothing pressure of her hand rubbing my arm helping me steady my breaths slightly. “What set you off?” she queries, squeezing me a bit tighter when the tears speed up again.

“I—I decided to check the flights for my birthday,” I answer, sniffling as my best friend strokes my hair lovingly. “It was stupid, because it just made me upset. They’re all too expensive, and I knew they would be, and it just made me miss him so much more.” Admitting it out loud makes me feel even dumber, the guilt creeping into my stomach. “I did this to myself,” I mumble. Subconsciously, my nails find their way to my arms, digging into the delicate skin and leaving pink crescents behind. Teresa pulls my hands away from my arms quickly.

“Stop blaming yourself. You did nothing wrong. I would’ve done the same, (Y/N).” I know she’s trying to comfort me, but I just squeeze my eyes shut.

“Yeah, and it wouldn’t have caused you to end up on the floor like a pathetic child.”

“(Y/N)! Stop!” Teresa scolds me. “Stop with the negative self-talk.” I try to protest, but she fixes me with that no-nonsense look that can get anyone to agree to anything, and I find myself nodding meekly. “None of this is your fault. You’re in a difficult situation, being separated from your boyfriend, and your heart isn’t sure how to handle it. That’s okay. You don’t have to know how to handle it perfectly yet.” I sigh, leaning into my best friend’s shoulder, feeling slightly calmer now. She always knows the right words to say when I’m in too deep to think straight. 

Teresa coaxes me into the kitchen to drink hot chocolate once my breathing has steadied somewhat. She’s looking at me with an odd look that I can’t quite place, as if she’s…proud of me?

“Why are you looking at me like that?” I ask warily over the top of my steaming mug. My best friend grins, staring at me for a couple more seconds before replying,

“You’re just, like, the strongest person I know.” My face turns what I assume is beet red at the compliment, not expecting such high praise from the woman who just held me in her arms as I sobbed like a baby. But then again, Teresa is special. She doesn’t judge based on outward appearances or impressions. She can see right into the heart of people, as if she can sense their goodness; their potential, and then she nudges them down that path. Helping them choose the sunshine. The good side. The light.

Knowing her compliment is slightly overwhelming, Teresa shrugs and changes the subject so fast I think I get whiplash. “You should call Gally,” she suggests. “Tell him that you were missing him and ask him for some love.” I cringe, turning away from her.

“I don’t want to make him feel bad that he isn’t here. I think I’ve already done that too much this week.” 

Teresa scoffs, “That’s nonsense. He’ll be happy that you reached out to him after your meltdown. He’ll be touched that you wanted to let him know how you’re doing. He’ll feel honored that you’re willing to be vulnerable with him.” I know deep down that she’s right; that the only thing he’d do is make me feel better. Never after calling Gally do I feel worse. I know I’m just scared to hurt him, but he always assures me that I don’t need to harbor that fear. I don’t need to hold onto that anxious voice in my head that whispers, You don’t deserve him.

I can even imagine him next to me if I try hard enough, murmuring, “You’re perfect, baby,” when I grow insecure. Whispering, “I’m so lucky to have you” in my ear when I doubt myself.

“Okay,” I agree, letting Teresa take my phone and FaceTime him. Despite the fact that it’s the middle of the work day, Gally picks up on the first ring, a concerned look decorating his handsome face.

“Teresa? Wha—” 

“She’s fine!” Teresa rushes to assure him, motioning for me to join her on the couch. I pop my head into the frame, wincing as I see how swollen and puffy my face is. Gally’s forehead immediately creases upon seeing me, obviously still worried when he sees the tear stains on my cheeks.

“Babe, are you okay?” he asks. Teresa silently asks if I want to take the phone, but I shake my head. My hands are still slightly shaky, and holding the phone is an added stressor. Teresa understands and angles the phone towards me.

“Yeah, I’m okay, don’t worry,” I whisper, my boyfriend’s shoulders relaxing only slightly. “I just had a bit of a meltdown. Teresa found me and helped me calm down.” Gally’s eyebrows soften, his mouth tilting down in a sympathetic frown.

“Oh, baby, I’m sorry,” he murmurs. “What happened?”

“I just miss you,” I mumble sheepishly after a second’s pause. It seems kind of silly once I admit it out loud, and I start to duck my face away when Gally gets my attention.

“Hey, (Y/N), (Y/N),” he says, waiting until I’ve turned back to him before continuing, “You don’t need to feel embarrassed. I miss you, too, okay? I miss you so much. You don’t need to feel ashamed for struggling.” He waits for me to respond, and I nod slightly. Truth be told, just hearing his voice has made me feel better; stronger. There’s something about his comforting, strong tone that soothes me. Just his voice can make me truly believe in myself. I swear, this man could make me believe anything as long as he says it aloud. 

“Thank you for picking up,” I smile, finding my mood lightening as a grin finds its way back onto his face. “Seeing you helped.” Gally blushes slightly, rubbing a hand along his chin.

“I’m glad I could help, baby.” Offscreen, someone gruffly commands him to get back to work, and he mutters an apology before turning back to the screen. “I’m sorry, but I have to go. But call me if you need anything, okay?” I nod, trailing my eyes over his freckles one more time as he thanks Teresa for taking care of me and then hangs up.

“It helped?” she asks, as if double-checking to make sure I truly am feeling better.

“Yeah,” I grin sheepishly. “You know what you’re talking about.” With a roll of my eyes, I joke, “You should be a counselor for a living. At this rate, you’re better than me at my own job!” Teresa just laughs.

“Well, now that you’ve cracked a joke, I know you’re feeling better.” She pulls me into a hug, and I gladly return it, silently wondering how I got blessed with such an amazing best friend.

“Hey, I’m here for you,” she reminds me one more time as she leaves, her meticulous check-ins a promise for the next few days.

“I know,” I assure her. “I promise I’ll call if I need to.”

“Good,” she says, smiling as she waves. “I love you, babes!” 

“I love you, too, Tes!” Feeling a bit lighter, I wave back as I close my front door.

_______________________________

“𝗜 𝗖𝗔𝗡’𝗧—I can’t take this,” I stutter the next day, wide-eyed at the wad of cash Teresa is currently shoving into my hands. Brenda and Sonya are flanking her on either side with looks that imply they’re attempting to telepathically convince me to take the money. 

“Don’t be sorry!” Brenda sighs. “Just take the money! It’s our birthday present for you!” I look back and forth between my three best friends, realizing that there is no way they’re letting me reject the money. But it feels so weird having this many fifties weighing heavily in my grasp. 

“Yes, you can,” Teresa sighs exasperatedly. “Like I already told you, it’s the money we were going to spend on your celebration pooled together. But we all know you’d rather spend your birthday with Gally, and we want you to be able to, so we’re giving you the money for that plane ticket you couldn’t afford. It would be a waste to throw you a party you don’t want to be at. Helping you see your boyfriend is a much better use of that money. We all agreed.” Brenda and Sonya both nod, Teresa shoving the cash even further into my palms. I take it shakily, counting silently as I gape at them.

“But—but this is nine hundred bucks! I can’t—I can’t take this, I’m sorry!” 

“Please take it,” Sonya says softly, placing a gentle hand on my shoulder. “We want you to be able to go see Gally. We want you to enjoy this birthday. You’ll be giving a gift to us by making this impulsive choice to do what makes you happy.” My resistance gets melted away by her words, knowing that this was their tactic all along. Get (Y/N) all toughened up to the ‘just take it’ ruse and then let Sonya slip under her defenses when she least expects it. But I’m not annoyed by it. Instead, I let Teresa close my fist over the cash.

Immediately, the three start cheering, but before I can even blink, they’ve moved on from celebrating and are pushing me towards my laptop where, just as I’m sure Teresa suspected, the flights from Denver to Chicago are still pulled up. Teresa obviously asked Gally to share his flight information with her, because she seems to have it memorized as she scans the flights. 

“Alright, here’s the best one,” she announces after a few minutes of looking. “United, nonstop, leaving at 9:30 a.m. MT and arriving at 12:56 p.m. CT. It’s in the same terminal as Gally’s flight, and he lands at 2:23 p.m. CT, so that gives you a little over an hour to get to his gate and wait for him. Sounds good?” I nod wordlessly, still slightly in shock over the way my best friends have handled this so nonchalantly, as if their friend flying across the country on a day’s notice is just a normal part of their lives. 

Sonya pulls me towards my room as Brenda takes the stack of cash back from me, mumbling that Teresa insisted they have it for show but was just planning on Venmoing the cash to me. I laugh at our friend’s antics before following an impatient Sonya, who grabs my suitcase from my closet and starts making a list of what I should pack.

“We’re not buying you a return flight,” she explains, “because we didn’t know how long you’d want to stay, and we figured you didn’t know either. Just bring your work stuff and you can work from Gally’s apartment, and use the rest of the money to buy a return ticket when you decide to come back.” I shake my head in awe at the schemes of my friends, who have obviously thought of every single anxiety I could have because of this plan and have set out to refute them. 

With Sonya helping me pack, a task that would usually take me at least three hours, two cups of coffee, and a panic attack is done in under one hour, no coffee or panic attacks in sight. While I wouldn’t have minded the coffee, the no panic attack part is nice, and I decide I can live without those two cups of coffee if it means my peace of mind is intact. 

And the next morning when Teresa drops me off at the airport, my medicine taken and an ample breakfast eaten, the nervous butterflies in my stomach don’t feel scary. In fact, they feel almost…exciting. And I feel crazy for doing this; for flying halfway across the country to surprise my boyfriend so I can kiss him on my birthday, but I also feel so alive.

And today, the idea of living doesn’t seem as scary anymore.

_______________________________

𝗔𝗦 𝗜 wait at my gate and sip my Starbucks latte, I answer the countless birthday texts I have already received, smiling at the overflow of love from people I talk to everyday and people I barely even know. It’s funny, knowing that there are people out there who remember my birthday but don’t talk to me otherwise. Some might feel disheartened at the idea, but I just giggle quietly to myself, wondering if I’m going crazy for feeling so lighthearted. 

Maybe it’s the adrenaline, I think to myself. The adrenaline from doing something so stupid and yet so exciting. Shrugging to myself, I take another large gulp of coffee, finally getting to the text from Gally. I saved it for last, knowing it would be the best one. And sure enough, as I read the message, I feel happy tears pricking my eyes. As always, he’s sweet; sappy, even, but his message also holds the serious intensity that he always has around him. It’s like an aura, telling those around him that he does everything fully and completely, never giving only half of his effort. That intensity is probably why I love reading texts from him over and over. Even if it’s a simple good morning, his texts always seem to scream I love you from between the lines.

I text Gally back, thanking him for the love he’s sent zipping along telephone lines, across the country and all the way to me. I suck the last dregs of liquid from my Starbucks cup, finally accepting that the beverage is gone as the gate attendant calls for Boarding Group 1. I find myself bouncing from foot to foot, realizing once again that I’m really doing this. I can’t bring myself to sit down as I wait for my group to be called, instead standing by the gate’s charging station, fidgeting like I’m about to run the 100 meter dash. By the time I’m boarding, I’m breathing heavily like I just sprinted up Pikes Peak. Whether from nerves or excitement, I can’t really tell, but it’s enough that the flight attendant touches my arm as she checks the cabin. 

“Ma’am, are you okay?” I look up in surprise before giving her a quick grin. 

“Yeah, I’m fine. Just nervous.” 

She smiles empathetically. “Is it your first time flying?”

“No. I’m flying out to surprise my boyfriend, and I guess I’m just hoping it all works out like I planned,” I explain. 

At this, I receive an even bigger grin from the flight attendant, who thinks that is just—“the most adorable thing ever!” I nod along, unsure whether I’m actually smiling or just masking my anxiety. Either one is a plausible explanation, and I’m pumped so full of adrenaline that all of my emotions currently feel interchangeable. 

I spend the entirety of take-off nervously fiddling with the little screen in front of me, trying to distract myself. Once we’re at a constant altitude, the flight attendants offer drinks, and I ask for a ginger ale, my go-to drink on airplanes. It calms me down, the comforting security of it helping me stay rational. Unfortunately, the ginger ale combined with my anxious thoughts cause my bladder to reach its limit quite quickly. 

I hate the little bathrooms on airplanes. So loud, so claustrophobic, so turbulent. It’s like trying to pee while in the middle of an earthquake. But my bladder isn’t playing games today, and the last thing I want to do is ignore it and then pee myself. The intrusive thoughts fight to take over as I rush through the motions, washing my hands as quickly as possible, but I stave them off and make it back to my seat in one piece.

The remaining hour until landing is the longest hour of my life.

When we finally touch down and taxi to our gate, all of the tension that has built up inside me feels ready to explode, but I hold it in, knowing that I can let it all out once I see Gally. It’s barely even occurred to me that I’m a year older now—that it’s my birthday—because all I can think about is getting to hold my boy. 

I almost trip getting off the plane, too busy checking his flight’s progress and landing gate. His flight is still an hour and thirty minutes out, giving me more than enough time to go to the bathroom, get some food, and wait for him. I pull my suitcase behind me, so glad I decided to take everything in my carry-on, as I’m now realizing that baggage claim is outside the secure area of the airport. I break free from the flow of traffic heading in that direction, redirecting towards the bathroom.

One bathroom trip, makeup refresher, and food court scavenger hunt later, I’m standing against a column at Gally’s gate, drinking my second Starbucks latte of the day. Normally, I wouldn’t let myself indulge like this, but it’s my birthday, so I feel justified. I even treat myself to a slice of sweet bread, too. I’m too anxious to eat a full lunch. Besides, I’m sure Gally will be happy to get lunch on our way back to his apartment. He’s always willing to eat, no matter the time of day.

I’m trying my best not to look suspicious. There’s a flight leaving from this gate after Gally’s flight arrives, so I blend in, but my leg is bouncing nervously and my hands are shaking slightly. I’m a naturally energetic person, but the fidgeting increases exponentially when I’m either excited or nervous. Right now, I’m both.

Thankfully, no one seems to notice me or think I’m behaving weirdly. I’m simply overthinking, like I often do. At least it passes the time. I only have thirty minutes left to wait.

I run back to Starbucks and buy another latte. It’s gone within ten minutes, my anxious energy prompting me to gulp it down like I’m dying of thirst. Then I’m running to the bathroom again, bladder shouting angrily at me for the caffeine abuse I’ve been subjecting it to. It’s unpleasant, but it kills more time. 

Ten minutes to go. I’m staring at my phone, Gally’s flight details pulled up, reloading the page over and over in hopes that magically, they’ll teleport and be here instantly. With anyone else, I wouldn’t be this obsessive; impatient, but it’s Gally. I could obsess over Gally for days on end with all the love overflowing from my heart. So I pass three minutes refreshing the page persistently, watching the minutes countdown.

I let out a quiet, barely there gasp when my phone screen tells me he’s landed. I can barely contain my excitement, nervous energy causing me to wiggle my hips like a rhythmically challenged dancer. His plane is on the ground, taxiing over, right to where I’m waiting. He’s going to walk through that gate, and I’m going to see his beautiful face, and I’m going to run and jump into my boyfriend’s arms.

All of a sudden, doubt crashes into me like a fucking tidal wave. What if he doesn’t want to see me? What if this is weird, and he’s going to be all awkward about it? What if this was one huge fuck-up? I can feel myself starting to spiral, starting to lose touch with the confidence I’ve been channeling all day. The panic has started to grow, and it surges through my veins, reaching to the tip-top of the cliff that is followed by a plunge off the deep end. Thankfully, though, with only a few minutes to spare before my boyfriend gets off his plane, a little girl in a princess dress bumps into me, hard, causing my knees to buckle and my head to snap out of the spiral it’s in. 

I catch myself against the trusty column I’m leaning against, looking down to find a young girl, maybe six, wearing an Elena of Avalor dress-up costume with a stuffed animal that looks like some kind of leopard with bird wings. 

“Amity!” her mother scolds her, ordering her to apologize for bumping into me. Amity looks up at me with big, brown doe eyes and a huge, genuine grin.

“I’m sorry, Ma’am,” she chirps. I smile back, making eye contact with her mom, before crouching down to her level and holding out a hand to shake.

“I forgive you. I’m (Y/N). Want to know something?” Amity shakes my hand, grinning widely, before looking at her mom as if to make sure it’s okay to talk to me. Her mom gives a gentle nod, a kindness in her eyes as they meet mine. “Well, Amity, you actually helped me just now. I was feeling super duper nervous and it was making me get shaky and worried. But then you bumped into me, and I saw your smile, and it made me feel a lot better!” 

I can tell Amity’s mother is touched, and I make sure to assure her that I’m doing better. That Amity’s little scuffle with my legs was truly helpful. And then Amity and her mom are on their way, Amity’s tight hug and whisper of “You look like a princess” giving me the last boost of confidence I need.

Right as I finish waving goodbye to the adorable little girl, I hear the sounds of passengers starting to come down the jetway. I suck in a sharp breath, making sure my small suitcase and jacket are safe by the column before stepping closer to the junction between gate and jetway, watching passengers closely as they start to trickle into the airport. 

It’s no surprise that I can pick Gally out of the crowd immediately after he walks out of the jetway, his head easily peeking over every other passenger. He doesn’t see me at first, focused on trying not to trample the small toddler whose family is trying desperately to get him to behave as they walk in front of my boyfriend.

I wait until he’s right there, just the toddler’s family in front of him, to call his name. “Gally!” His head snaps up, eyes scanning the surrounding area before settling on me, his jaw going slack, falling open in surprise as the toddler’s family quickly moves out of the way. 

It’s like we’re living in slow motion, the way I watch Gally’s backpack slide out of his hand and hit the floor with a thump, his look of shock morphing into a state of joyous disbelief, as if he’s not sure he’s truly seeing me. He looks frozen in this state, unable to move towards me, but I don’t care. I’m already running up to him, happy tears gathering in my eyes as I jump into Gally’s arms, my head burying itself in his neck before I lean up to kiss him with all the pent-up love, tension, and nerves that have been coursing through my body all day.

His lips are warm just like they always are, soft and full and inviting as we kiss passionately; shamelessly, right in front of everyone waiting to board their flight. I can’t bring myself to care, anxiety nowhere to be found now that I’m here. In his arms. Held tightly, kept safe, flooded with warmth, just like I’m supposed to be. 

He pulls away first, still in shock as he scans my face, as if expecting to find some imperfection that reveals me as a doppelganger. “Baby—” he chokes out, tears brimming at the corners of his eyes, my own tears rolling down my cheeks. “Baby, you’re here.” He lets out a giddy, confused laugh, cupping my cheek with his hand as he wipes the remnant saltwater away with his thumb. 

“You’re—you’re here. In Chicago,” he repeats, putting my feet back on the floor so I can stand there with my arms around his neck, his other hand coming up to cup my other cheek. “You’re—it’s your birthday!” he says, and I can’t tell if it’s another reason he’s confused I’m here, or if it’s just an observation. Well, probably both, so I just giggle.

“Yes, Gally, it’s my birthday.” 

“But—did you—when did you get here?” he asked, bewildered, a lovestruck, excited smile lighting up his whole face. I run my hands through his hair, admiring his gentleness as he cradles my face in his palms.

“An hour and a half ago, I think. I’m not sure the exact timing,” I shrug. He gasps.

“You flew on your birthday?” I give him an odd look. 

“Yes…why? Is that illegal or something?” Gally chuckles through the joy-filled tears still drifting down his face every once in a while.

“No, baby. I just thought—most people wouldn’t be willing to fly or even be at an airport on their birthdays. Don’t you have cool stuff to do? Fun people to see?” I shake my head, pulling him as close as I can, our lips hovering inches apart. 

“You’re the only person I wanted to see. This is my birthday present.”

Gally’s eyes water even more as he presses his forehead to mine, running his hands through my hair. “Baby, I—” He pulls away to wipe a tear from his eye and then leans back down, pressing a gentle peck to my forehead, “I love you so much.” 

“I love you even more, Gally,” I whisper back, staring into his teary eyes with my watery own. He chuckles, shaking his head.

“Not possible.”

“It is, too,” I giggle, still whispering as I press a kiss to his lips, “and I’m the birthday girl, so you have to let me win the arguments today.” 

“Oh, that’s how that works,” Gally laughed, tucking a strand of my hair behind my ear. “Well, I suppose I can let you win this one, since you did fly all the way to Chicago on your birthday.”

“Oh, but that was selfish,” I smiled. “I wanted to see you. I needed to see you. It was purely selfish.” Gally just hugged me tighter, pressing kisses to the top of my hair as he admitted quietly,

“Well, I needed to see you, too. I needed to have you in my arms.” I relax into the warmth of my boyfriend’s chest, the material of his hoodie tickling my nose. I endure it because it smells like him, and that makes it the most calming aroma in the world. 

“Being in your arms is all I need. You are all I need,” I whisper. 

I kiss him again, a loving, sweet kiss, reveling in the presence and taste of my boyfriend, a sense of peace and safety wrapping its warm arms around me. 

Nothing else matters in this moment. Not my job, or my life in Denver, or my birthday. All that matters is that I am here, in my boyfriend’s arms. In Gally’s arms.

Right where I’m supposed to be.