The Glade was finally starting to settle again. The missing supplies, the stolen tools, and the incident with the young boy had all been swept under the rug, just as Newt had said. The kid had been released from the Slammer after serving his time, and although he continued to insist he hadn't stolen anything, Alby's public announcement seemed to appease most of the Gladers. One by one, they moved on, the boy's protests fading into the background.
Still, Irelyn noticed how the others avoided the kid for a few days, treating him with a mixture of suspicion and pity. It stung to watch, but even that passed. Slowly, life in the Glade resumed its usual rhythm—except, of course, for her and Gally.
Days went by, and Gally didn't make any move to patch things up between them. Newt had tried several times to gently nudge them both into talking, but Irelyn had made it clear she was done waiting. "If he wants to fix things, he knows where to find me," she'd told Newt, a forced smile on her face. "It's not like I can go anywhere else."
Newt had sighed, dropping the topic for her sake, but she could see the concern in his eyes. They continued to grow closer—Newt always at her side, comforting her with gentle touches and reassuring words. Yet, as much as she cherished her moments with him, there was an ache in her chest whenever she thought of Gally. She missed him fiercely, even though she wouldn't admit it out loud. Every time she spotted him across the Glade, she felt the pull, the urge to bridge the gap that had grown between them. But her pride kept her rooted where she was, waiting for him to make the first move.
At the end of the week, Alby called for a bonfire to boost morale. The Glade seemed to collectively exhale, a breath of relief and excitement rippling through the group. He even approved the return of the grappling ring—a rough-and-tumble tradition the boys hadn't indulged in since Gally and Jax's infamous fight. Irelyn watched the mood in the Glade shift, the tension giving way to laughter and anticipation as everyone prepared for a night of celebration.
The bonfire crackled in the center of the Glade, casting warm, flickering light across the clearing. Gladers crowded around the fire, their laughter and voices rising into the cool night air. Irelyn sat on a log near the edge of the circle, Newt beside her, his hand resting lightly on her knee. Alby and Minho stood nearby, chatting quietly before Alby waved them both over to join the small group.
"Nice to see everyone not looking like they're ready to kill each other," Minho said, plopping down across from Irelyn and stretching his legs out in front of him. "Let's just hope nothing else goes missing, yeah?"
Irelyn glanced at him, her brows furrowing. "Especially if that kid really didn't do it."
Newt hummed in agreement, leaning back with a small sigh. "I'm just glad Alby managed to find the bag in the first place. It's been a long week."
Alby, standing with his arms crossed, nodded thoughtfully. "We got lucky. Jackson came forward and told us he saw a canvas bag in the Sloppers' shed. That's where we found most of the missing tools and supplies."
Irelyn blinked, the words hitting her like a jolt. Jackson came forward? Her lips parted as if to speak, but before she could form the words, a group of Gladers called out to Alby, their cheers loud and insistent.
"Alby! Get in here, shank!" Frypan hollered, gesturing toward the grappling ring.
Alby smirked, shaking his head but clearly enjoying the attention. "Duty calls," he said, excusing himself. He clapped Newt on the shoulder as he passed, adding, "Don't let her think too much. Get her in the ring if you have to."
As Alby jogged off toward the group, Irelyn turned immediately to Newt, her voice low but urgent. "So… I was right. Jackson did see something."
Newt winced, his face caught between sympathy and guilt. "Yeah, love. Seems so."
Minho chuckled from across the fire, his eyes glinting with amusement. "You should've seen Gally when he found out. I swear, I thought he was gonna punch a tree—and he did. Snapped a branch clean off."
Irelyn pressed her lips together, her emotions swirling. Part of her felt vindicated—she had been right to bring up Jackson—but the other part of her felt frustrated and hurt. If Gally had just listened instead of snapping at her, this whole mess could've been avoided.
Her eyes drifted toward the grappling circle, where Gally stood near the edge, his arms crossed as he watched the matches. He wasn't wrestling tonight, but his presence was impossible to miss. The firelight danced across his features, his expression unreadable as he scanned the crowd.
Newt reached out, gently cupping her chin and turning her attention back to him. "Hey," he said softly, his thumb brushing against her cheek. "Don't let it get to you tonight, yeah? It's a good night—why not enjoy it? Do something fun. Let him come to you, like you said."
Irelyn hesitated, glancing back at Gally for a moment before meeting Newt's warm, steady gaze. His smile was soft but encouraging, and despite the weight still lingering in her chest, she found herself nodding.
"Alright," she murmured, leaning into his touch. "Something fun."
Newt grinned, his hand slipping from her chin to lace his fingers with hers. "That's my girl. Let's play Seeker!" he called out, grinning.
Winston groaned, but there was a glint of amusement in his eyes. "Seeker? I thought we retired that one after Jeff nearly set himself on fire last time."
Irelyn raised an eyebrow, grinning at the idea of it. "Set himself on fire? Sounds like my kind of game. How do you play?"
Newt chuckled, leaning in to explain. "Alright, so here's the deal. There's one person who's 'it'—we call them the Seeker. They're blindfolded and stand in the center of the playing area. Everyone else stands in a circle around them. The Seeker calls out 'Seeker!' and everyone has to yell back 'Keeper!' They use the sound to try and tag someone, but everyone's allowed to move around to avoid getting caught."
"Blindfolded with a bonfire nearby?" Irelyn added, laughing.
"Exactly," Newt grinned. "Keeps things interesting."
Minho rolled his eyes with a smirk as he helped Newt drag two benches to mark the boundaries of the playing area. "I'll go first," he announced, accepting the blindfold from Newt. "Let's get this over with. And remember, if anyone sets themselves on fire, that's on you."
Irelyn laughed as she joined the circle of Gladers, feeling the buzz of excitement in the air. Across the field, Gally was with Alby and the others, already deep into the first few rounds of grappling. She caught a glimpse of him tackling Clint, his muscles straining as he held his own in the chaotic mass of bodies. It tugged at something in her chest, a familiar longing. She quickly shook it off, focusing back on the game.
Minho was positioned in the center, his eyes hidden under the blindfold as he called out, "Seeker!"
"Keeper!" everyone yelled back, scattering and shuffling around the circle, trying to dodge without making too much noise. Irelyn bit her lip, holding back a giggle as she carefully sidestepped away from Minho, who was lunging in her direction with outstretched arms.
"Gonna get you, shanks," Minho taunted, swiping at the air as he turned in a slow circle, trying to hone in on someone's voice. He turned sharply toward Winston, who barely managed to duck out of the way, laughing as he narrowly avoided Minho's grasp.
"Not today, Minho!" Winston laughed, darting away as Minho spun in his direction, grumbling.
Irelyn felt a lightness she hadn't felt in days, a weight lifting from her shoulders as she joined in the laughter, enjoying the thrill of the game. She yelled "Keeper!" in response each time Minho called out "Seeker!", dodging his outstretched arms as he moved around the circle. Each close call sent her heart racing, the danger of getting caught mingling with the laughter around her.
At one point, she got too close, and Minho's hand barely missed grazing her arm. She let out a surprised squeal, ducking to the side just in time, and the others burst into laughter, calling out teasing encouragements to Minho.
"Almost had her, Minho!" Newt yelled, grinning from his spot across the circle. He shot Irelyn a wink, clearly enjoying the game as much as she was.
She stuck her tongue out at him playfully, sidestepping further away from Minho, her laughter bubbling up as the game continued. It felt good to lose herself in the simplicity of it all, the camaraderie, the freedom to laugh without worry.
After Minho's turn, one of the younger kids took over, his small hands reaching out cautiously as he stumbled forward, clearly a bit overwhelmed by the challenge. "Seeker!" he called, his voice cracking with nervousness.
The group responded in unison, "Keeper!" as they ducked and dodged around him, laughing as the kid swiped at thin air, his face scrunched up in concentration. With an excited giggle, he finally managed to tag Winston, who pretended to fall dramatically, clutching his chest as if he'd been mortally wounded. The group burst into laughter, and the game continued.
When it was Jeff's turn, his clumsy attempts to catch someone quickly became the highlight of the night. He staggered forward with outstretched arms, narrowly missing several Gladers who danced out of his reach.
"Seeker!" he called, sounding frustrated.
"Keeper!" they replied in chorus, each voice coming from a different direction. Poor Jeff spun in circles, laughing despite himself as he swiped at the air, missing each time.
"You guys are the worst!" he groaned. "Come on, at least let me catch someone!"
Finally, Zart, out of pure pity, let Jeff catch his sleeve, and Jeff collapsed in relief. Everyone cheered as the next round began, excitement buzzing through the group.
Eventually it was Irelyn's turn. She stepped into the center, grinning as Newt approached to tie the blindfold over her eyes.
"Alright, love, think you can manage without your pretty eyes?" he teased, his fingers brushing against her cheeks as he adjusted the fabric.
"Watch it, or you're going to be the first one I catch," she shot back with a smirk, even though her vision was now completely blocked.
Newt chuckled, patting her shoulder before stepping back. "Good luck finding me, Sunshine."
She called out, "Seeker!" and immediately heard "Keeper!" responses coming from all sides, voices laughing as they echoed around her. Irelyn started in one direction, her hands held out in front of her as she tried to listen closely, her grin widening with anticipation.
She reached toward where she thought she'd heard Clint's voice, only to hear him laugh and slip out of her reach. "Not fast enough, Med-jack!"
"Oh, you're gonna regret that," she threatened, lunging forward, but she missed him entirely, much to the amusement of the others.
She called "Seeker!" again, and another chorus of "Keeper!" erupted around her, though this time it was peppered with teasing comments.
"Try over here, Irelyn!" Minho's voice taunted from her right.
"Too slow!" Winston added from somewhere nearby, his tone smug.
"Oh, you shuck-faces!" Irelyn laughed, spinning around as she tried to locate them. "I'm catching one of you, I swear!"
She took a cautious step forward, her hands sweeping the air, but all she grabbed was emptiness. Every time she turned, it seemed like they'd moved, staying just out of her reach. The sound of laughter and shuffling feet filled the air as the Gladers continued to dodge her, calling out "Keeper!" only when they were sure she was too far away to catch them.
"This is hopeless!" she shouted through her own laughter, completely turned around. "I'll just stand here till one of you slips up!"
From somewhere nearby, she heard Newt's voice, full of mischief. "Alright, we'll make it easy for you… Keeper!"
She whirled toward his voice, lunging in his direction, but she heard him shuffle backward with a laugh. "Nice try, love!"
"Seeker!" she called, feigning frustration even as she laughed.
"Keeper!" the group chorused back, their voices echoing around her.
After several more unsuccessful attempts, she finally moved forward with more determination, only to collide into someone, her head bumping into a firm chest. She laughed, surprised, reaching out to tag whoever it was, still too turned around to realize the game had changed.
"You're it!" she announced, pulling off the blindfold with a triumphant grin. But as her vision cleared, her laughter faded, her breath catching in her throat. Standing in front of her, blocking her path, was Gally.
Her heart skipped a beat, and she looked up at him, taking in the faint, almost hesitant smile that softened his usually stern expression. It was only then that she realized everyone had started to step back, subtly creating space around the two of them. From the corner of her eye, she could see Newt watching with a gentle, reassuring smile. When their eyes met, Newt gave her a small, encouraging nod, even making a subtle shooing motion with his hand, clearly telling her to go with Gally. Then he turned to strike up a conversation with Minho, effectively giving her and Gally the privacy they needed.
Gally looked down at her, his eyes warmer than she remembered, and reached up to tuck a stray piece of her hair behind her ear. His touch was surprisingly soft, his fingers lingering a bit longer than necessary. "Careful, princess," he murmured, his voice low enough that only she could hear. "Wouldn't want you to fall into the bonfire."
Irelyn raised an eyebrow, her nervousness giving way to the flicker of annoyance she'd been holding back for days. "Oh, so you finally decided to talk to me? What's it been—weeks?" Her tone was light, but the sting behind it was unmistakable. "I tried, Gally. More than once."
His faint smile faltered, replaced by a look of guilt that softened his sharp edges. "I know," he admitted, his voice rough. "I screwed up. I wasn't ready to face you, Irelyn. But… I'm ready now. Please, can we talk? Just give me a chance."
She hesitated, her fingers fidgeting with the blindfold in her hands. "What if I don't want to hear what you have to say?" she asked, though her tone wasn't as sharp as she'd intended. She glanced down, avoiding his gaze for a moment, but his hand gently covered hers, stilling her nervous movements.
"I'll take that risk," Gally replied, his voice steady but almost vulnerable. "But I need you to hear me out, Irelyn. Please."
Her eyes flicked back up to meet his, and for a moment, they searched his face, taking in the sincerity etched into his features. She stole another glance over her shoulder at Newt, who was now blatantly gesturing for her to go with Gally, a playful smirk tugging at his lips as he caught her eye again.
Finally, she sighed, a small smile creeping onto her face despite herself. "Alright," she said softly, meeting Gally's gaze again. "Let's talk."
Gally's hand slid into hers, his touch warm and grounding. He held her gaze for a moment longer, a flicker of relief crossing his face, and then he led her away from the bonfire, away from the laughter and noise, their hands intertwined as they made their way toward his hut.
—
As they walked toward Gally's hut, Irelyn decided to break the tension with some casual conversation, hoping to ease both of their nerves. "So… how was grappling tonight? You look like you didn't hold back."
Gally smirked, brushing a stray curl of her hair behind her ear as he kept her close by his side. "Taught a couple of shanks a lesson, let's put it that way."
She laughed, nudging him with her shoulder. "Anyone else besides you come out in one piece?"
"Eh, Alby nearly tackled me into the ground," Gally said with a chuckle. "But don't worry, I got him back. He'll be feeling that bruise tomorrow."
Irelyn grinned, her fingers grazing the inside of his palm as they walked. "Glad to see you're still keeping everyone in line."
When they reached his hut, Gally held the door open for her, and as soon as she stepped inside, the scent hit her—a mixture of freshly cut wood, sawdust, and something distinctly Gally, a warm, earthy scent she couldn't quite place but found oddly comforting. The air was cooler inside, the faint breeze slipping through the cracks in the carefully fitted wooden walls.
Her eyes roamed the space, taking in the meticulously crafted details that made it unmistakably his. The walls, made from evenly cut and sanded planks, bore the marks of his handiwork, their edges smooth and seamless. The bed in the corner was simple but sturdy, the wooden frame polished to a soft shine, clearly the result of hours of careful work. A blanket, worn but neatly folded, was draped over the mattress, and a small shelf above it held a few items—a hammer, a roll of twine, and what looked like a makeshift lantern he'd rigged from scraps.
Her gaze drifted to the corner where his tool bag sat, its leather worn and scuffed from use. Next to it, a stack of neatly organized wood scraps and a set of chisels gleamed in the dim light, their precision placement speaking to Gally's methodical nature.
"Huh," she murmured, running her fingers along the smooth edge of a small table near the door. "It's… sparse, but every inch of it feels like you. Did you make all of this?"
Gally leaned against the wall, watching her with a faint smirk. "Mostly. When I first got here, the hut was a mess—barely standing. Figured if I was stuck here, I might as well make it somewhere worth staying." He gestured to the walls. "Didn't have much else to do when I wasn't working."
Irelyn stepped further in, her fingertips brushing over the grooves in the wood. "You really put a lot of yourself into this," she said softly, her voice tinged with admiration. "It's… solid. Just like you."
Gally chuckled, shaking his head as he straightened up. "Don't go getting all sappy on me, Red."
She laughed, glancing back at him, her eyes sparkling. "No promises." Her gaze flicked around the room again, taking in the subtle signs of his craftsmanship—the perfectly fitted joints, the polished surfaces, even the way his few belongings were neatly arranged. It was practical, efficient, and yet there was a quiet pride in every piece.
"Guessing you don't need much, huh?" she teased, leaning against the table and crossing her arms.
Gally shrugged, a sheepish smile pulling at the corners of his mouth. "Didn't see the point in making it fancy. Besides, I'd rather spend time on other things—like making sure your place has everything you need."
A warm blush crept into her cheeks as she looked down, her heart softening at the quiet confession. "You really put so much thought into my hut?"
Gally rubbed the back of his neck, his gaze dropping for a moment. "Course I did. I wanted you to feel… safe. Comfortable."
Irelyn's heart swelled, and she reached for his hand, giving it a gentle squeeze. "Thank you," she whispered, her voice barely audible as they moved to sit on the bed, facing each other.
They both started to speak at the same time, their words tumbling over each other in a jumbled mess before they stopped and laughed, the last traces of tension melting away. "You first," she said softly, giving him an encouraging nod.
Gally took a deep breath, his gaze serious as he looked into her eyes. "Irelyn… I'm sorry. I shouldn't have snapped at you. I was frustrated, yeah, but that didn't give me the right to talk to you like that. You didn't deserve it."
Irelyn studied him for a moment, the weight of his apology sinking in. His usual hard edges were softened, his voice tinged with regret she didn't often hear from him. She took a deep breath, steadying herself before speaking.
"Thank you for saying that," she replied, her voice quiet. "I know you didn't mean to hurt me, but… it did. I was just trying to help, Gally. I wasn't accusing Jackson, not really. I just… he's the only younger Glader I see all the time. He's everywhere, and I thought maybe he'd seen something. And in the end…" She hesitated, the words almost catching in her throat. "I was right. He did know something."
Gally's jaw tightened, and he glanced away for a moment, a muscle in his cheek twitching. "You were," he admitted, his voice low. "And I hate that I ignored you about it. If I'd just listened to you…" He shook his head, frustration bleeding into his tone. "Instead, I took all my anger and stress and aimed it at you. I made you feel like you were the problem when you were the only one trying to help."
Irelyn's heart twisted at the raw honesty in his words, and she found herself stepping closer, her fingers brushing lightly over his hand. "I get it," she said softly. "The missing supplies, the pressure… it's enough to make anyone snap. But next time, maybe try talking to me before you start yelling."
A faint, almost rueful smile tugged at his lips, and he looked back at her, meeting her gaze. "Yeah, next time, I'll try to keep my temper in check." He paused, his brow furrowing as he studied her face. "I just… I hate that I made you doubt yourself. You've been doing so much for the Glade—for me—and I didn't give you the credit you deserve."
She blinked, the sincerity in his voice making her chest ache. "You're giving it to me now," she said, a small smile forming despite herself. "That counts for something."
He let out a low chuckle, his hand moving to cup her cheek, his thumb brushing against her skin. "You really don't pull your punches, do you?"
"Not when it matters," she teased, though her tone was warm.
Gally's expression softened further, and he leaned his forehead against hers, his voice dropping to a whisper. "You were right about Jackson. And the worst part is, when I found out, all I could think about was how I'd treated you. How I should've trusted you from the start."
She let her forehead rest against his chest, her voice quiet. "I don't need you to always agree with me, Gally. I just need you to trust that I have a reason for saying the things I do."
"I do trust you," he murmured, his voice rough with emotion. "I just… I get so caught up in trying to keep everything together that I forget I don't have to do it alone."
She looked up at him, her eyes searching his. "You don't. That's why we're here—for each other. To figure this out together."
His arms tightened around her, holding her close. "Together," he echoed, the word carrying a quiet promise.
She pulled away and covered his hand with hers, her fingers brushing over the roughness of his knuckles from where he had apparently punched a tree. "But I'm stubborn too, Gally. I could have reached out once everything had calmed, but I was too proud to come talk to you again after last time. But I need you to know… I missed you."
Gally's gaze was intense as he looked down at her, he whispered, "Missed you too. More than I can even explain." He looked down, a vulnerable edge to his expression that she rarely saw. "The whole time, I kept thinking about you. Even when I was mad, I hated not talking to you."
"Me too," she whispered, her heart pounding as his hand slid to the back of her neck, pulling her just a little closer.
His eyes flicked down to her lips, his breathing shallow as he leaned in, closing the distance between them. His mouth met hers with a gentleness that was so unlike his usual roughness, his hand cupping her cheek as he kissed her softly, almost hesitantly at first. But as her fingers found their way into his hair, pulling him closer, the kiss deepened, a current of longing and unspoken words passing between them.
When they finally pulled apart, both of them were breathless, their foreheads resting together as they tried to catch their breath. Gally's voice was barely a whisper as he spoke, his words tumbling out like they'd been waiting for this moment. "I love you, Irelyn."
Her breath caught in her throat, a warm, tingling sensation spreading through her chest as she looked up at him, her heart racing with happiness and surprise. A laugh bubbled up from her lips, and she cupped his face, kissing him deeply, her smile breaking against his mouth. "I love you too, Gally."
They stayed like that for a long moment, letting the weight of the words settle between them, each kiss sealing the promise they'd just made. Then his hand tightened against her cheek, and he deepened the kiss, his mouth growing hungrier, his tongue darting out to find hers. The shift in him was almost palpable, his hand slipping down her spine to cup her lower back, pulling her flush with him. She felt the hardness in his pants, and heat curled in her belly as she let him press her against him, their hips grinding together slowly.
Irelyn moaned into the kiss, a spark of excitement racing through her. She'd never seen this side of Gally, had never known him to be soft like this, with the kisses that melted her heart. Her hand slid over his shoulders, holding onto him as they rolled back, Gally pinning her beneath him on the small bed, his hips settling between her thighs. He lifted his mouth, letting them both breathe for a moment before he spoke against her lips. "You have no idea how many times I've imagined this, Irelyn. You under me like this, your hair spread out on the bed."
"Thought about it too," she admitted, her face heating up as she caught his hand in hers, guiding it down her thigh to where her skirt was hiked up. His fingers brushed the bare skin of her leg, and a thrill of excitement shot through her at the touch, making her toes curl. "Never thought you'd be like this though… Soft and sweet," she murmured, arching up to meet him.
He chuckled, "only for you, Princess." As he rolled his hips against her, pressing his length against her core, a gasp fell from her lips, a surge of heat racing through her blood. Gally pulled back for a moment, his breathing ragged as he gazed down at her, his expression hungry with need but still careful with restraint. "Can I touch you?" he asked quietly, his fingers just inches away from her underwear.
The question should have made her laugh—she'd let him kiss her senseless and even touched her over her clothes before, and now he was asking permission? But the way he looked at her, the genuine question in his eyes made her heart soften. She nodded, her hands slipping to his shoulders as she tugged him down. "Please."
She could feel his hand trembling as he slid it over the waistband of her underwear, his fingertips grazing the soft skin just above her pubic bone. A moan fell from her lips at the touch, her hips instinctively rolling up to meet his hand. But instead of pulling his hand away, he kept going, his fingers teasing along the edge of her panties before dipping underneath. His hand stilled as he made contact with the wetness between her legs, and she could feel the tremble in his arm.
"Gally—" she murmured against his mouth, her hips arching up into his touch.
He kissed her again, the pressure of his lips increasing as he stroked the wet folds of her pussy. "Shit," he groaned against her mouth, his cock hard against her core as his fingers found her clit and teased it in a slow circle. "You're so shucking wet, Irelyn."
She gasped against his lips, her body responding to his touch. She wasn't a stranger to touching herself, but this was different—it was Gally's hand, his fingers exploring her, teasing her. He knew just how to touch her, and within minutes he had her writhing beneath him, her breaths coming in ragged pants as she clung to his shoulders.
Gally kissed her harder, his teeth nipping at her lip as his fingers played with her clit, teasing it just enough to make her moan but not enough to push her over the edge. Then she felt his fingers press inside her, one finger sliding into her slick heat as he continued to stroke her clit with his thumb. She cried out, her hips rolling up to meet the pressure, her nails digging into his shoulders as he fucked her with his finger before adding another, slowly but surely.
When she came, it was sudden and intense, her pussy clenching around his fingers as she rode out the pleasure. She felt his lips smile against hers, his fingers slowing to gentle strokes as he kissed her through the aftershocks. When she could think clearly again, she leaned back to look up at him, her cheeks flushed with heat, her hair spread out around them.
She reached for him, gently pulling on his pants. "Want to do the same for you," she murmured, her fingers brushing the erection behind his pants.
But Gally shook his head, his expression turning serious for a moment. His hand came up to brush a strand of hair back from her forehead, his thumb trailing along her skin. "Not this time, I want this to be about you."
Seeing in his eyes that he was serious, Irelyn nodded, a soft smile on her lips as she leaned up to kiss him again. "Thank you, Gally." She rested her head against his shoulder, his arm slipping around her as they settled into the small bed together, her hand finding its way to his chest. As they lay together, a quiet peace settling over them, Gally pressed a kiss to her forehead, his arms wrapping around her protectively. He murmured, "Stay here tonight. I don't want to let you go."
Irelyn looked up at him, her fingers tracing patterns along his arm as she smiled softly. "I'd like that."
As they lay in the quiet comfort of each other's arms, Gally let out a soft chuckle, breaking the peaceful silence.
"We're lucky to have Newt, you know," he murmured, his fingers tracing lazy patterns along her back. "He's been there for both of us through this whole… mess."
Irelyn smiled, nodding as she leaned into his touch. "Yeah, we really are. He kept me sane, even when I was frustrated with you. I'm definitely going to have to thank him." She paused, a mischievous glint in her eye. "And thank you too, for convincing him to help set up that game."
Gally chuckled, shaking his head. "Actually, that was all on the fly. Completely made it up right there."
Irelyn raised her eyebrows, impressed. "Really? I could've sworn you two had planned it. It felt… I don't know, intentional. Like you knew it would get us back in the same space."
Gally smirked, looking down at her with a glint of pride. "Guess I'm better at improvising than I thought."
They both laughed, the tension of the past few days easing as they settled into an easy rhythm. Irelyn let out a soft sigh, resting her head against his chest. "I'll make it up to him, too. I probably wasn't the best company while we weren't speaking."
Gally's grin turned teasing as he tilted her chin up to look at him. "Oh, I have a few ideas for how you could make it up to him," he murmured, his voice low, mischief dancing in his eyes.
She laughed, playfully shoving him. "I'm sure you do, shank."
He chuckled, pulling her closer as they both settled back into the bed, their laughter fading into a comfortable silence. For a while, they simply lay there, talking quietly about everything and nothing—stories from past bonfire nights, shared memories, and their hopes for the new greenie in two weeks. .
Eventually, their voices grew softer, their words slower, as the gentle pull of sleep started to take over.
Gally pressed a final kiss to her forehead, his fingers stroking through her hair as he murmured, "Love you, Irelyn. More than I know how to say."
She smiled, her heart full as she snuggled into his chest, her fingers tracing along his shoulder. "Love you too, Gally."
With that, they fell asleep wrapped around each other, their whispered goodnights settling like promises in the quiet of the hut. For the first time in what felt like forever, everything felt right.