Irelyn sat on one of the benches in the Med-jack tent, a medical book open in her lap, though she hadn't turned a page in what felt like forever. Her thoughts kept drifting back to the previous night in her hut—how natural things had felt with Newt and Gally, how close they'd all become. The Glade had been especially quiet; Alby had temporarily banned the nightly grappling matches after Gally's last outburst, and without a bonfire to gather around, most of the Gladers had retired early.
Her heart fluttered as she remembered how the evening had unfolded. She'd been lying between Newt and Gally, doing her best to focus on her book, but they weren't exactly helping. The warmth of their bodies, their playful banter, and the way their hands brushed against her skin—all of it left her more flustered than focused. Newt had been leaning back against the wall, one arm draped over her shoulders, fingers tracing soft lines down her arm. Gally lay on his back next to her, his hand resting on her thigh, thumb tracing slow, teasing circles that sent a pleasant shiver up her spine.
"Thought you were trying to read," Gally teased, his lips curving into a smirk as he leaned closer, pressing a warm, lingering kiss just behind her ear.
"I was," she whispered, her voice barely audible, "but you two are making that impossible."
Newt grinned, his face close to hers, eyes gleaming with mischief. "That's the point, love," he murmured, his voice low and inviting. He leaned in slowly, giving her time to adjust, to catch her breath. And then his lips met hers—soft, exploring, with a tenderness that made her heart race. His hand found her waist, fingers brushing gently along her side as the kiss deepened, their breaths mingling in the quiet.
When Newt finally pulled away, Irelyn felt light-headed, her lips tingling from the kiss. But before she could fully catch her breath, Gally's arm wrapped around her, pulling her gently toward him.
"My turn," he murmured, his voice a warm rasp that sent a thrill through her. He shifted onto his back, guiding her to lie on top of him as his hands moved to cradle her face. His kiss was different from Newt's—bolder, more intense, his lips pressing against hers with a hunger that made her heart pound. His tongue traced along the seam of her lips before slipping into her mouth, tasting her, exploring. She couldn't hold back a soft moan, and the sound seemed to spur him on, his hands tightening on her waist as the kiss grew more heated, more insistent.
Eventually, Gally pulled back, his gaze flickering to Newt with a smirk. "Not bad, huh?"
Newt grinned, leaning in to brush his lips softly against Irelyn's forehead. "Not bad at all. Actually, I could do that all night."
Gally's smirk softened into something almost tender as he looked back at Irelyn, his fingers tracing gentle patterns along her arm. "Same," he agreed, his voice barely a whisper. "In fact…"
He leaned in again, pressing another kiss to her lips, this one slower, more lingering. It wasn't long before Newt joined in, leaning over her shoulder to kiss her cheek, her jaw, his fingers brushing her hair back as he pressed his lips against her skin. They moved seamlessly, almost as if they'd choreographed it, taking turns showering her with gentle touches, tender kisses.
Eventually, they all settled back into the cushions, Irelyn nestled between them, her head resting on Gally's shoulder and her hand entwined with Newt's. The three of them lay together in the quiet of her hut, savoring the closeness, the comfort, the ease of just being with each other. Gally's fingers traced soothing circles on her arm, while Newt's hand rested on her waist, his thumb rubbing gentle, absentminded circles.
"Best night I've had in a while," Gally murmured, his voice soft but sincere.
"Same here," Newt added, his voice dropping into that soft whisper she found so endearing. He squeezed her hand gently. "Don't think I'm ever gonna get tired of this."
Irelyn felt a wave of warmth and contentment wash over her. She smiled, pulling Newt's hand to her lips and pressing a kiss to his knuckles before settling back down between them, her heart full and her mind at ease.
When they finally pulled away, panting softly, Gally looked down at her with that wicked grin of his, his fingers brushing lightly over her exposed stomach. "You know what's weird to me? I know what kissing is, what sex is, how babies are born… but I have no idea how I know what any of it is."
Irelyn nodded, her chest still heaving from the heated moment. "I was thinking the same thing the other day. It's like I know all these things, but I don't remember ever learning them."
Newt propped himself up on his elbow, his hand resting lazily on her hip as he looked down at her. "It's our implicit memory, I think. Clint said something about it once. The Creators wiped our explicit memories—our personal experiences and stuff—but we still know how to do things. Like how Frypan knows how to cook but doesn't remember learning it."
Gally chuckled, his fingers tracing the line of her collarbone. "It's one of the less weird things about this place." He leaned in, pressing a soft kiss to her shoulder before murmuring, "Alright, enough book talk. I was enjoying our previous topic better."
Newt smirked, dipping his head to kiss her throat this time, and Irelyn closed her eyes, letting the warmth of their touch and their lips pull her back into the comfort of the moment.
The memory of their kisses lingered in Irelyn's mind, a warm distraction, until the sudden blare of the Box alarm jolted her back to reality. She sat up quickly, her pulse quickening as the loud, mechanical sound echoed through the Glade. The Box was rising again—another Greenie, more supplies. She hadn't realized it was already time; three months had flown by since her own arrival.
As the only one in the Med-jack tent, she grabbed her bag of essentials and hurried toward the Box. When she arrived, Alby, Newt, and several others were already gathered around, all eyes trained on the heavy doors. The clanking of the Box settling into place sent a shiver down her spine, an eerie reminder of the day she arrived—the fear, the confusion. She could only imagine how disorienting it must be for the newest Greenie.
The Box doors creaked open, and Irelyn's heart clenched as she caught sight of the boy inside. He looked no older than ten, his wide, terrified eyes darting around as he took in the unfamiliar faces. He was younger than any Greenie she'd seen before, and the way his small body trembled tugged at something in her chest.
"Come on, Greenie," Alby said, his tone steady and calm as he extended a hand into the Box. "We're not gonna hurt you."
The boy hesitated, then took Alby's hand and climbed out. But the moment he stepped onto solid ground, his face paled, and he began to panic.
"I… I don't feel good," he stammered, his voice small and unsteady. "I need to…"
Before anyone could stop him, he bolted for the nearest corner, overwhelmed and disoriented, his small body shaking with anxiety. After a few seconds, he fainted, collapsing onto the ground.
For a moment, the group stood in stunned silence before Clint and Irelyn sprang into action. Together, they carefully lifted the boy and carried him back to the Med-jack tent, laying him down gently on one of the cots. Clint did his best to clean him up, while Irelyn stayed by his side, wiping his forehead with a cool cloth. She could see the tension in his small frame even as he lay there unconscious; she didn't leave his side, wanting to be there when he woke.
Hours later, his eyes fluttered open, blinking groggily in the dim light of the tent. Irelyn offered him a reassuring smile, her voice soft and calm as she spoke. "You're alright. You're safe here."
The boy looked around, his eyes wide with confusion and disbelief. "I… I can't actually be here," he murmured, his voice trembling. "I thought it was a joke…"
Irelyn blinked, frowning slightly at his words. Something about it felt strange, but before she could press him further, Alby entered the tent, his expression softened with understanding.
"I'll take it from here, Irelyn," he said gently, nodding for her to step aside. She hesitated for a moment, her curiosity piqued by the boy's odd reaction, but she left the cot and headed out of the tent, letting Alby take over.
That evening, Irelyn found herself at the dinner table with the usual group of Gladers. The new Greenie, still shaken from the day, refused to eat and had climbed to the top of the watchtower that overlooked the Maze doors. He sat there, staring out at the Maze, his small figure silhouetted against the darkening sky. Irelyn frowned, her concern growing.
"Shouldn't someone talk to him?" she asked, leaning toward Alby. "He hasn't eaten anything."
Alby shook his head, his voice calm but firm. "It happens sometimes. He's just in shock. He'll come down when he's ready."
Irelyn nodded, though her worry didn't fade. She couldn't shake the maternal instinct that had taken over when she'd seen him faint earlier. He was so young, so fragile. She couldn't help but feel responsible for him, like it was her job to make sure he was okay.
The conversation around the table eventually turned to lighter topics, pulling her out of her thoughts. The arrival of new supplies had everyone buzzing with excitement, and Frypan had made a particularly delicious meal with the new ingredients. As the boys settled into their usual banter, the tension of the day began to lift.
Alby smirked, his gaze shifting to Irelyn and Newt. "Speaking of taking breaks," he began, his voice teasing, "I caught you two making out instead of working earlier today."
Newt flushed, but he grinned, unbothered by the teasing. "Caught us, did you?"
Irelyn rolled her eyes, though her smile betrayed her amusement. "We were taking a well-deserved break."
The table burst into laughter, and Frypan shook his head in mock disapproval. "I think Alby's just jealous. Bet he wishes he could sneak off with someone."
"Hardly," Alby replied with a smirk, though the glint in his eyes said otherwise.
Newt, never one to be outdone, perked up and leaned forward, a mischievous grin on his face. "Well, if we're talking about embarrassing moments, should I tell everyone about what I caught Zart and Jeff doing in the Gardens last week?"
Zart's eyes widened, his face flushing a deep shade of red as the table erupted in laughter.
"Oh, this I've gotta hear," Clint said, leaning in with interest.
Zart groaned, burying his face in his hands. "You shuck-face."
The teasing continued, the conversation bouncing from one embarrassing story to the next. Irelyn found herself laughing along with the others, the warmth of their camaraderie filling her with a sense of belonging. No matter how strange or uncertain the Glade became, she knew she had found her place here—between the boys who had become her family and the two she loved most.
—
Two days later, the morning sun was casting a soft, golden light over the Glade as Irelyn made her way to breakfast. She felt the warmth on her face, her thoughts drifting to the previous night. She and the boys had finally agreed to call it an early night, especially since Gally had to be up with the Builders at dawn. But as always, their "early night" had turned into an extended stretch of late-night talks, shared laughs, and quiet, lingering kisses that made her cheeks warm just thinking about it.
When she arrived at the breakfast tables, she spotted Newt and Gally already seated, waiting for her. They both turned at her approach, Newt's face lighting up with a soft smile, and Gally's usual scowl lifting as he glanced over. She could tell they'd saved her spot, the familiar comfort of that small gesture making her heart swell.
"Morning, Sunshine," Newt greeted, his tone soft as she slid into place next to him.
She leaned down to kiss him, her hand brushing his cheek as she took her time, savoring the warmth of his lips. When she pulled back, Newt's eyes stayed on hers, a gentle grin tugging at the corner of his mouth. "Sleep alright?"
"Could've used a few more hours," she replied with a teasing smile. "Someone kept me up talking."
"Wasn't just me," he shot back, giving her hand a playful squeeze.
Irelyn then turned to Gally, who was already watching her with a smirk. "Took you long enough," he muttered, his voice rough but softened by the warmth in his eyes.
"Maybe I wanted to make you wait," she teased, leaning in to kiss him too. Gally's hand came up to cradle the back of her neck, his thumb brushing gently along her jaw as he pulled her close. He never made it a quick kiss, always holding her just a beat longer, like he didn't care who saw. When he finally let her go, her cheeks were a bit warmer, and his smirk was firmly in place.
She settled between them, feeling their familiar presence on either side. The steady, unspoken affection in their gestures was something she cherished; words didn't always come easy in the Glade, so these moments were their own language, a reminder that she wasn't alone here.
Breakfast was well underway when Alby's voice called her name. She looked up, spotting him making his way over with the newest Greenie in tow—a young boy with a serious expression, his eyes wide but surprisingly steady for someone so new.
"Morning, everyone," Alby said, nodding to Newt and Gally before turning to Irelyn. "Irelyn, need a favor."
"Sure, what's up?" she replied, her gaze shifting to the boy beside him. He looked to be no older than ten, younger than most of the Gladers, and she couldn't help but feel a pang of protectiveness.
"Mind taking the Greenie with you to the Med-jack tent?" Alby said, resting a hand on the boy's shoulder. "Show him the ropes, let him help out where he can. He's remembered his name already—Jackson."
Irelyn's brows lifted in surprise. "Jackson? Really? It's only been two days."
The boy nodded, managing a faint smile. "Guess I just got lucky."
She shared a quick look with Newt and Gally, both of whom looked just as surprised as she felt. It was unusual for anyone to remember their name that fast, but then again, each Greenie was different. She pushed the thought aside, chalking it up to quirks of memory.
"Why isn't Clint working with him?" she asked, glancing back at Alby. "Isn't it usually the Keeper's job to watch the Greenie during rotations?"
Alby nodded. "Clint's not feeling well. Figured he'd better rest, so I thought you could take over for him today."
"Alright," Irelyn agreed, giving Jackson a friendly smile. "Come on then, Jackson. I'll show you the Med-jack tent."
With a quick wave to Newt and Gally, and a gentle squeeze of Newt's hand under the table, she stood. She shot a warm smile at Gally before leaning in to whisper, "See you later?"
"Count on it," he replied, smirking. He leaned back, arms crossed as he watched her lead Jackson toward the Med-jack tent.
The Med-jack tent was calm and cool, its familiar scent of herbs and antiseptic welcoming her as they entered. Jackson trailed behind her, glancing around with wide eyes that took in every detail.
"Alright, Jackson," she began, gesturing around the tent. "Today's just a tour. I'll show you where everything is, and maybe give you some small tasks. You don't have to memorize it all at once, just try to get familiar with things."
Jackson nodded, his attention fixed on her as she began walking him through the shelves and supplies. He seemed focused, his gaze following her hands as she pointed to different items. His quiet, attentive nature was a little unusual—most Greenies were full of questions, anxious to make sense of their new surroundings. But Jackson simply nodded along, listening with an almost unnerving calm.
"Over here," she said, leading him to the row of small glass jars. "These are the basics. We've got different herbs and salves for infections, fevers, cuts, scrapes… you name it."
She continued on, explaining the uses of each item, from bandages to pain relievers. Jackson absorbed it all without a word, his expression hard to read. A part of her found it odd, the way he was cataloging everything so quickly. But maybe he was just the quiet type. Every Greenie adjusted differently—maybe this was his way of coping.
"Think you can remember all that?" she asked, offering him a small, encouraging smile.
Jackson shrugged, a faint smile flickering across his face. "I'll do my best."
She nodded, turning back to her own tasks and letting him work quietly nearby. Occasionally, she'd give him small assignments, like organizing bandages or sorting the different jars. He completed each one efficiently, his hands steady
Later in the day, the tent's quiet was interrupted by the sudden swing of the door as Gally came in, followed by two of his Builders, all three sporting fresh cuts on their arms.
Irelyn straightened, moving toward them immediately. "What happened?"
"Tried using one of those new window panes," Gally muttered, rolling up his sleeve to reveal a jagged cut. "It was cracked. Shattered when we tried lifting it—sliced us all up pretty good."
She grabbed a cloth and antiseptic, her hands moving quickly as she began cleaning the wounds. "Alright, just hold still."
As she reached for the jar of herb paste she needed, she was startled to find it already on the table, right next to her. She glanced up, realizing Jackson was watching her carefully, his face blank.
"How did you know I needed this?" she asked, curiosity flickering in her eyes.
Jackson shrugged, his expression innocent but a little too composed. "Just guessed."
She paused, a hint of suspicion worming its way into her mind. She hadn't told him what the paste was for, just where it was. Most Greenies wouldn't have known the difference between an antiseptic and a fever-reducer on their second day. But Jackson had placed the paste in front of her with quiet confidence, like he'd known exactly what it was for.
Pushing her questions aside, she finished bandaging Gally's arm, her fingers moving gently over his skin. His eyes softened slightly as he looked down at her, a small, grateful smile tugging at his lips.
"Thanks," he muttered, his tone gruff but warm.
"Someone has to keep you out of trouble," she replied, giving his shoulder a light squeeze.
He smirked, reaching up to brush a stray strand of hair from her face before nodding to Jackson. "Good luck keeping up with her, kid."
With a final, lingering glance at Irelyn, Gally left, his builders trailing behind him.
Once they were alone again, Irelyn turned to Jackson, her suspicion lingering. "You sure you haven't been in a Med-jack tent before?"
Jackson's eyes widened, a hint of confusion—or maybe guilt—flickering there before he quickly covered it up. "No, why?"
She crossed her arms, leaning against the table. "You knew exactly what I needed earlier, even though I didn't tell you what the paste was for."
He hesitated, the pause stretching just a bit too long before he finally shrugged. "Maybe… I don't know. Maybe I was around medical stuff before the Glade. It just feels kind of familiar, I guess."
She didn't reply, studying him with a curious frown. Something about him felt… different. Not wrong, exactly, but different. She wanted to press further, but Jackson shifted uncomfortably, changing the subject.
"So… are you and Gally, like… together? Or is it you and Newt?" he asked, his tone casual but curious.
Irelyn blinked, caught off guard by the question. For a moment, she almost forgot the strange feeling he'd given her, his curiosity making her smile despite herself. "Both, actually. It's… a bit complicated."
Jackson looked at her thoughtfully, as if filing away the information, but he didn't ask anything further.
As she turned back to her work, the unsettled feeling returned, her earlier suspicion gnawing quietly at the back of her mind. Something about Jackson didn't add up, and though she couldn't put her finger on it, she felt a strange, protective urge to keep an eye on him.
Irelyn left the Med-jack tent with Jackson trailing behind her, the buzz of a strange worry still lingering in her mind. She'd been watching him closely all day, trying to figure out what exactly felt off about him. He wasn't like other Greenies—too focused, too steady. She tried to push the thought aside as she made her way to dinner, hoping that the familiar warmth of her friends and the evening meal would distract her.
The sun was setting, casting long, golden shadows across the Glade as she walked. The north entrance caught her eye as she spotted Minho jogging back through it, sweat dripping down his face in the fading light. Alby was waiting near the door, and they exchanged a few quick words before heading off together toward the Deadheads, where the Runner's hut was hidden among the trees. Only the Runners and Alby were allowed in there, the secrecy surrounding their maps and strategies adding to the mystique of the Maze.
Irelyn's curiosity flared, but she continued toward the dining area, knowing better than to get sidetracked. She'd been in the Glade long enough to know that some things—like what lay within the Maze—were better left alone, for now at least.
Ahead, she saw Newt talking with Frypan near the kitchen, the two of them chatting and laughing as they leaned against the hut. Frypan must have been taking a well-deserved break, his apron stained from preparing the evening's meal. Her eyes drifted over to their usual table, where Gally was perched on top, talking animatedly with Winston, Clint, and Alec. They were all in high spirits, their laughter carrying easily across the Glade.
Gally spotted her first, a familiar smirk lighting up his face. He held out a hand, his voice carrying over the din. "There's my favorite Med-jack!"
Clint snorted, giving Gally an exaggerated glare. "Hey, what's that supposed to mean? I took care of you that one time, remember?"
Gally rolled his eyes with a laugh. "Oh, right. My bad. Thanks, Clint, for the life-saving medical care when I was clearly dying of food poisoning. Couldn't have survived without you."
Clint nudged him back with a laugh, the two boys trading jabs as Irelyn approached. She slipped her hand into Gally's, and he pulled her close, planting a quick kiss on her lips.
She gave him a teasing smile. "Everyone's in such a good mood tonight. Did the Builders find a stash of Frypan's Speciality or something?"
"Something like that," Gally replied, giving her one of his rare, soft smiles. He leaned in to press a kiss to her temple before pulling back. "Why wouldn't we be in a good mood? Today was a good day."
Irelyn's heart warmed at his affection, her worries melting away a little more. Just then, Newt came over with three plates in hand. He handed one to Gally, one to Irelyn, and took a seat next to her with the last plate.
Alec, seated across from them, raised an eyebrow, smirking. "When do I get my dinner delivered, huh? I'm practically starving over here."
Newt snorted, shooting him a mock serious look. "When you're willing to share a girlfriend with me, maybe I'll consider it." He gave Irelyn a wink as he settled in beside her.
Irelyn raised an eyebrow, grinning mischievously. "Oh, so you're looking to add to your collection? Well, maybe I should consider adding another guy to my harem after all."
Newt and Gally both laughed, but immediately they moved in closer, each wrapping an arm around her in an instinctual, protective gesture. The three of them had already had this conversation—decided that there was no one else they wanted, no one else who would ever fit quite the way they did. Their laughter and closeness felt right, like they'd all been waiting for something they hadn't even known was missing.
"Good luck finding anyone better than us," Gally murmured in her ear, his tone teasing but with a trace of seriousness underneath.
"Wouldn't dream of it," she replied, leaning into him with a smile.
Once they were settled, the other Gladers started grabbing their food, and soon the entire table was chattering and eating, the warm atmosphere making Irelyn's earlier worries feel distant and silly. She dug into her food, savoring the flavors Frypan had managed to coax out of their limited supplies. The steady hum of laughter and conversation buzzed around her, pulling her further into the comfort of the evening.
As she ate, she found her gaze drifting over to Jackson, who was seated with the younger Gladers a few tables over. He was playing around with the others, talking animatedly and occasionally waving his hands for emphasis as he told some story or joke. His face was lit up with enthusiasm, his energy infectious as he laughed and nudged the kids next to him. He looked… normal, just like any other kid, and yet… something still didn't sit right with her.
Noticing her distraction, Newt nudged her under the table, his voice low and curious. "Oi, what's got you staring over there, Sunshine?"
Irelyn turned back to him, setting down her fork as she gathered her thoughts. "It's Jackson… I don't know, something about him is strange. He's only been here two days, but he was moving around the Med-jack tent like he knew exactly where everything was. And earlier, he handed me exactly what I needed without me even telling him what it was."
Newt and Gally exchanged a glance, both of them looking more amused than concerned. Gally leaned back, his smirk widening as he took a long sip from his mug. "So, because the Green Bean got lucky, you think something's wrong with him?"
Irelyn flushed, suddenly feeling self-conscious. "It's not just that," she said, fidgeting slightly. "It's… I don't know, it's this gut feeling I have. Like he's hiding something. Maybe it sounds ridiculous, but I can't shake it."
Newt looked over at Jackson, who was now pretending to wrestle with one of the younger kids, his laughter ringing out across the Glade. "Looks like a regular kid to me, love," Newt said finally, his tone calm and reassuring. "Maybe your personalities just don't mix well."
Gally chuckled, taking another sip of his drink, clearly entertained by her suspicion. "Yeah, but I'll tell you what," he said with a wink. "If he starts doing anything else villainous, you let me know, and I'll handle it."
Irelyn rolled her eyes, though a small smile tugged at her lips. She knew they were teasing her out of love, and their reassurances eased some of the tension in her chest. Maybe she was just overthinking things.
As she turned back to her food, the crackle of the bonfire being lit caught her attention. Several Gladers were gathered around, their faces illuminated by the warm glow of the flames. Sparks flew up into the twilight, casting a flickering light over the crowd as everyone moved closer, drawn to the fire's warmth. The hum of excitement grew, the promise of a relaxed evening setting everyone at ease.
Irelyn glanced back over at Jackson one more time and saw him acting as ridiculous as any of the other younger Gladers, pretending to do some wild dance around the fire while the other kids laughed and joined in. She took a deep breath, feeling a little silly for her earlier worries. Maybe he really was just a kid trying to fit in.
The sounds of singing started up around the fire, voices lifting in a half-made-up song that sent laughter rippling through the crowd. The tune was cheerful but slightly off-key, everyone throwing in verses as they went, making up lyrics that often turned absurd. Irelyn couldn't help but laugh, her spirits lifting as she joined in, her voice blending with the others around her.
Newt wrapped an arm around her shoulders, pulling her close as he joined in on the singing, his voice surprisingly melodic as he added a verse that made the others laugh. On her other side, Gally tapped out a rhythm on the table with his fingers, his face lit up with a grin as he chimed in with his own ridiculous lines.
Frypan shouted over to them, waving his mug in the air as he called out, "Oi, what happened to that song you taught us last week?"
Newt leaned closer to Irelyn, his voice low and mischievous. "We could make up our own, love," he suggested, a glint of humor in his eye.
"Just don't make it about the Med-jack tent or our Greenie villain," Gally teased, nudging her side with a smirk.
Irelyn laughed, shaking her head as she let herself get swept up in the warmth and energy of the evening. Surrounded by her friends, the fire casting its glow over them, the laughter filling the Glade, she felt truly at home. For now, her worries about Jackson faded, leaving only the joy of the moment, shared with the boys she loved and the friends who had become her family.
The night in the Glade had stretched longer than most, fueled by laughter, the flickering glow of the bonfire, and more than a few rounds of Gally's "Specialty." As the evening wound down, Irelyn found herself sprawled in the cool grass laying on Newt's stomach. They were off to the side, watching the boys play one of their made-up games, a mix of tag and wrestling that seemed to follow rules only the participants understood. She and Newt had taken up the role of commentators, weaving ridiculous backstories and elaborate rules into their play-by-play of the mayhem unfolding before them. Minho was diving for the "goal," while Winston tried to trip him up, both of them laughing and taunting each other.
"And here we have Minho with the sprint of the century!" Newt whispered in an exaggerated announcer's voice. "He's going for the goal, folks! And there's Winston with the classic deadhead distraction technique—oh! Minho takes a tumble!"
Irelyn clapped her hand over her mouth to muffle her laughter, her eyes glistening with amusement. "A brutal move! The crowd gasps! But can he recover?"
Newt grinned, nudging her with his elbow. "Place your bets now, Sunshine. I say Minho's out. It's Winston's game tonight."
"No way," Irelyn said, playfully nudging him back. "Minho's got it in him. He always makes a comeback."
Eventually, Alby stood happily and relaxed by the bonfire, raising his hands to call for quiet. "Alright, Glader, that's enough for one night. Bedtime before any of you lose a tooth—or worse." He gave Gally a pointed look, and the Gladers, still buzzing from the night's antics, began to disperse.
As the others wandered off to their hammocks, sleeping bags, and huts, Gally made his way over, collapsing beside them with exaggerated exhaustion. With a dramatic sigh, he flopped down, resting his head on Irelyn's stomach. Gally closed his eyes, a lazy smile on his face as he hugged her waist. "We should just sleep right here," he murmured, his voice muffled against her.
Irelyn laughed, threading her fingers through his hair, relishing the rare softness of the moment. She glanced up at Newt, who was lying back, twirling a strand of her hair around his finger, his gaze soft and thoughtful.
"Sleeping right here doesn't sound so bad," Irelyn murmured, letting her fingers trace gentle circles over Gally's scalp.
Gally sighed contentedly, his eyes closed as he wrapped his arm around her waist. "See, she gets it."
Newt shook his head, though there was a fond smile on his lips. "Yeah, because that's totally reasonable. No chance any of those shuckheads would dump a bucket of water on us at dawn, or worse."
Irelyn rolled her eyes, glancing up at him. "Alright, spoilsport. What about the hut then?"
Gally's eyes popped open, his expression lighting up with exaggerated excitement. "All of us?" he asked, eyebrows raised, clearly pleased by the idea.
Irelyn couldn't help but giggle, nodding. "Yeah, all of us."
Newt barely had time to respond before Gally, grinning mischievously, was on his feet, tugging Irelyn up with him. Before she could say anything, he scooped her into his arms, lifting her effortlessly. She gasped, her laughter ringing out as she wriggled in his grip.
"Oh no, I'm being kidnapped!" she teased, her arms wrapping around his neck as she looked over at Newt. "Help! Save me!"
Newt chuckled, standing up and following after them with a playful roll of his eyes. "Not sure I can save you from that brute, love. But I'll give it a go."
Gally carried her the rest of the way to her hut, taking exaggerated, bouncing steps that had her laughing the whole way. When they finally reached the door, he set her down with a flourish, smirking as he held it open for her. Newt rolled his eyes at Gally's dramatic chivalry but smiled as he followed them inside, closing the door behind him.
Once they were in, the boys started kicking off their boots and peeling off their shirts, leaving a pile of clothes near the door. Irelyn grabbed an old shirt of Newt's, one he'd given her after she'd complained about sleeping in her jeans. It hung down to the top of her thighs, soft and well-worn, the faded fabric carrying a comforting hint of his scent. She quickly slipped her own shirt off and pulled his on, her back to the boys as she changed.
When she turned around, both Newt and Gally were trying (and failing) not to look, their gazes drifting over to her legs as she shimmied out of her jeans, leaving her in just her underwear and Newt's shirt. She raised an eyebrow, smirking as she caught them both staring.
"If you're going to keep looking at me like that every time I get ready for bed," she teased, folding her arms, "I'll make you both go back to your own beds."
Newt grinned, shaking his head as he walked over to her, his eyes warm and admiring. "Can't help it if our girlfriend is gorgeous, especially when she's in nothing but one of our shirts."
Gally snorted, joining them by the bed as he stretched his arms above his head. "Hey, if it bothers you that much, you could always just… not wear anything."
Irelyn laughed, rolling her eyes as she climbed onto the bed, settling in between them. "Maybe in your dreams, Gally."
"One day," he replied with a smirk, though he slid in beside her, wrapping an arm around her waist.
One at a time, they leaned over to kiss her goodnight. Newt's was soft and lingering, his fingers brushing her cheek as he pulled her close, his touch warm and reassuring. Gally's was a bit rougher, his lips pressing firmly against hers, but there was a tenderness in the way he cradled the back of her head.
Finally, she nestled between them, her back pressed against Gally's chest as she snuggled into Newt. This had become their routine—the best way for the three of them to fit together in the small space. Gally liked to move in his sleep, so being the big spoon gave him enough freedom to shift without disturbing her, while Newt's steady presence at her front kept her grounded.
As she closed her eyes, the warmth of their bodies lulling her to sleep, Irelyn felt a wave of contentment wash over her. The Glade could be harsh, but here, in this small space with the two boys she loved, it felt like a refuge—a place where, even just for a few hours, the world was safe and whole.
Her last thought, before drifting into sleep, was a hopeful one: maybe tonight would be the start of a string of good days without incidents, days where they could all just be together, without worry or danger lurking around the corner.