𝗧𝗛𝗘 𝗥𝗨𝗡𝗡𝗘𝗥 𝗚𝗜𝗥𝗟 ᐅ 𝙣𝙚𝙬𝙩

𝘁𝘄𝗲𝗻𝘁𝘆 𝘁𝘄𝗼

╔═══*.·:·.☽✧    ✦    ✧☾.·:·.*═══╗

She's scarier than a
shucking Griever.

╚═══*.·:·.☽✧    ✦    ✧☾.·:·.*═══╝

My sleep is deep, hazy — the best I've ever had. My eyes are heavy. I'm completely relaxed. In the depth of my sleep, there's one thing I can feel; someone's lips are kissing the top of my forehead softly, and they linger there for a moment.

And they're gone again.

An involuntary smile pulls at my lips in my sleep, the kiss leaving an incredible warmth in its place.

❀

I wake up in the morning with a giddy smile on my face, an uncontrollable grin that I don't think could ever be wiped off. I hum a soft tune as I swing my legs over the side of the hammock, and look around me to find most of the hammocks devoid of Gladers, their clothes and belongings strewn across their space. I almost gag at the air. It smells of pure boy.

A snore startles me from beside me, coming from Chuck's hammock, his ringlets falling messily over his face. I smile softly at the boy before gripping the fabric tightly with my hand and hoisting it upwards, tipping Chuck right out of his hammock and sending him tumbling to the floor.

Chuck lets out a high pitched squeal as he flails around in the air before landing with a thud on the earth. He stares at me, eyes wide yet groggy from his sleep. My laughter is uncontrollable, echoing around the hammock area while Chuck just stares at me astonished. Before he can shout at me, I take off racing through the trees.

"Thea!" Chuck's voice hollers. "That wasn't funny!"

I slow down to a walk as I come out into the clearing of the Glade, and amble mindlessly towards Frypan's watching out in particular for dark skin and black hair. I conclude that it's best to tell Alby about the vision — no, memory. I don't want to give anyone any more reason to not trust me, and I've held back enough information already, which as I've found out recently, leads to nothing but arguments. And my body lacks the energy to go through that again.

"Hey, Alby."

"Greenbean," Alby greets, observing me cautiously. It's one of the only times I've spoken to him since I first arrived here, and no doubt Alby's expecting me to blurt out something extravagant. "Newt's not a miserable klunk-head anymore. Happen to have anythin' to do with ya by any chance?"

"Nope." My lips quirk upwards slightly at the mention of his name. "I've got no clue what you're talking about."

"Of course ya don't."

I plonk myself down next to Alby, and he shoots me a knowing look, his brows raised. Newt and Alby are as close as Chuck and I, so there's no doubt in my mind that Alby's as suspicious as Chuck was last night — questioning my sudden change in mood. Chuckie was confused only until Newt walked into the Hammocks right behind me, and that seemed to answer enough of his questions for the night.

"Listen. Ben reckoned I should tell ya about the vision I saw yesterday."

"Gwon then, shuck-face. Haven't got all day."

I purse my lips at his bluntness before resting my elbow on the table. This guy's a delight, I think dryly. "It was less of a vision and more of a memory," I admit.

Alby's head's tilted now, and he leans closer, as though what I'm telling him is strictly confidential. "What d'ya mean?"

I inhale sharply, praying that I'm not about to sound stupid. "I felt like I'd actually been there before. The memory was of Grievers. Maybe three of them, curled up in a ball in a tube, floating in a glowing liquid."