100 More One Shots ✔️

Two For Joy >> Gally X Reader

Title: Two For Joy

Paring: Gally X Reader

Warnings: none

Spoilers: none

Author's Note: I always sing a nursery rhyme when I see a crow (magpie), and thought I'd get it out via fanfiction.

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Three months after you'd come up in the Box, there was a song stuck in your head that you swore you'd never heard any of the boys saying, or ever in your life. Yet, it was stuck in your head, reminding you the meaning of it in times when there wasn't much work to do.

You were Frypan's prep-chef; something he loved you eternally for, and together, you'd make the meals for the Gladers. Whether it be tomato soup, or something spicy with homemade bread, you were the one to put everything out, get it ready and clean up after the meal was cooking, and made everyone satisfied until the next meal.

This job made you half-popular; everyone had great admiration for Frypan, maybe because he was the only one who cooked in the Glade. And because you helped Frypan create all of his delicious homemade ice creams, stews and cook-ups, you were looped in with his greatness. Even if you just washed dishes and chopped the raw chicken so he didn't have to touch it too much (you had to agree, raw chicken felt awful to touch).

But this song in your head...

It came to you as you were throwing the prep scraps into the compost bin, under your breath as a hum. You didn't even notice it, not until you began saying the words.

"One for sorrow, two for joy, three for a girl, four for a boy..." you murmur, pushing the hair from your face. "Five for silver -," A branch cracked; who had left firewood lying around the Glade? But before you could answer your question, or at lest, resume where you were up to in your song, you met eyes with another Glader. Gally was a tall boy, with short hair, and a short attention span; not many people knew, but he had trouble keeping on his task as the Keeper of the Builders. It was why he was so hard on himself, and often, others.

"Is Fry around?" He asked you.

You shake your head. "He's visiting Clint and Jeff for a headache, I think." You reply, dumping the smelly compost into the bin. It will make good soil soon, good for the Track Hoes, for the food you cooked with. "I can help you if you want."

He nodded, and placed his hammer onto the grass by his feet. "I wanted someone to help hold onto a beam, we need an extra pair of hands on the job."

You nod. "I can help with that. Just hold on three minutes, I have to store the lunch meat so it doesn't go off before we cook it..." you rush back into Frypan's kitchen, cleaning up the utensils he had left every which-way. Unbeknown to you, Gally had followed you in; you wouldn't blame him, not many people had privy to the kitchen, it was quite a sight. Rather, it looked like something from a house out in the middle of the countryside than a restaurant (from what you remember what restaurants are). "Oh, Gally, you frightened me," you gasp, noticing him in the doorway.

He nodded. "Sorry, _______. I didn't mean to." 

You shrug. "That's alright. I'll just be -,"

"What was that song you were singing before?" He interrupted you, watching you closely. "The one...you were counting things." 

You place a spatula into the right tub, and face the Builder, but before you could find the words to explain the silly song, you were taken by the sight of him before you. The way he almost brushed the door frame with the tip of his head, his broad shoulders that seemed to not notice just how built he was. You'd known Gally ever since you had come up in the Box, but not as others had known him. He was never rude or mean. He didn't get rough around you, never lifted a finger to hurt you. Newt had joked that you two had a deeper friendship than him and Alby. You had just thought you were under his radar.