𝗚𝗥𝗢𝗪𝗧𝗛, gally (tmr)

Chapter Twenty Three

Gally had grown since the last time Ada saw him. In many ways.

For one, his literal growth. What used to be four inches of height difference was now more like a foot. His hair was now buzzed short, his shoulders broader, his arms even more muscular. He seemed more mature and more knowledgeable, and Ada couldn't help but wonder what he had spent his time doing since he got out of the Maze.

And how had he survived?

It all seemed impossible. They watched Minho spear his chest. They watched him fall to the ground, lifelessly. So how was he here now?

"Gally?" Thomas murmured.

His shocked statement reminded Ada that other people were around them. When she had locked eyes with the boy believed to be dead, everyone else had fallen to the back of her mind. Gally looked guilty, his eyes reluctantly dropping away from her and back to Thomas.

Suddenly Thomas lunged at him. Smacking him directly across the face, Gally was sent flying to the floor, with the other boy still hovering over him and attempting to punch him. 

At first, Ada froze. 

Gally's presence had really thrown her. And she kind of thought that he deserved it. He killed Chuck, and somehow he had deceived them all into thinking he was dead.

It didn't occur to her that he may have been looking for them.

And then she felt like she could move again. She darted forwards at the lack of anyone else doing so, and pried Thomas from the boy, causing him to fall back onto the floor himself. As Newt also came forwards to calm Thomas down, Ada could turn to the attacked boy herself, and felt knots of nervousness bundling in her stomach.

Up close, as Gally pulled himself up from the floor, she could see his light freckles and the specks of green in his eyes. She had missed that. And although her heart was softening at the sight of him again after so long, she did something far different from greeting him happily.

She slapped him.

Thomas' attack on Gally had caused shouts and cries of panic and anguish. Ada's slap earned silence. Gally's hand trembled ever so slightly, unnoticeable, as it went up to sooth the stinging of his cheek. She regretted it in less than a second.

He then looked back to the girl, who was noticeably trembling, but whether it was from rage or nerves she had no idea. His face was painted in an expression of horror and pain, and as his hand came back down to be stuffed into his pocket, he questioned her.

"What the hell was that for?"

He hadn't questioned Thomas attacking him, because he didn't care. He cared about her. He always had and he always would.

She let out a laugh that sounded suspiciously like a choked sob. When she met his eyes again, he could've sworn there was a glint of tears in there, but she'd never admit it. 

The first time they met, he told her that he'd hate to get on her bad side. And here he was: on her bad side. 

And he was right, he hated it.

"What the hell was that for?" She repeated, spitefully. "For months, I thought you were dead, Gally! I mourned you. Why the shuck would you let me do that?"

As she berated him, she advanced forwards towards him. Before she could shove him out of anger, Frypan had put his hand on her shoulder and guided her away from the boy. The guards around Gally had pointed their guns once again at their group, most specifically at Ada, and the boy found himself flooding with panic.