CH. THIRTY - ONE
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"Woman, you nearly drowned last time you went there," he grumbles straight after she shared where she's going. "Let's not."

"I can swim," she defends. "And I'm going, no matter what you say. Besides, I went swimming the other day, too."

"Alright. But I'm coming with you and your stubborn ass," he decides, following along. "Can I get a towel first?"

"Nope." With a grin, she wraps her arms tighter around her towel. "You're lucky."

"Yeah?"

Her grin grows. She can't help it. "I'm wearing your favorite color."

"It is not my favorite color," he mutters. "And it is no longer funny."

"I think it has some humor to it. Now stop walking that fast, I can't keep up."

"If you stop about the navy blue thing."

"Never."

They arrive at the lake. Joan puts her towel down beside it, along with her shoes, socks, pants, and shirt. Though she wouldn't want to show the whole Glade this, she isn't embarrassed either. Just the same as a bikini!

"Can you even swim?" She then wonders, turning around.

Damn.

Carrying wood and building for over two years for sure worked in his benefit. Broad shoulders, great biceps, visible muscles. Not bad at all.

"Now who's staring?"

"Not me." She turns to the lake. "Let's go. Don't drown, though."

"You'll have to mouth to mouth me."

She hums in reply. "I'd prefer just kissing you because I can, not because you're dying. Now come on!"

Taking his arm, she leads them to the lake, until their ankles are completely underwater.

"Maybe you should just walk in first. I mean, if you don't know if you can swim—"

Then water consumes her. Her mouth opens to let out a yelp, but she chokes, and spats around until oxygen fills her lungs again.

"Gally!" She gasps. "I didn't tell you to push me."

He stands there, laughing, with twinkling eyes. "Well, you can push me back."

"No. Imagine you drown," she says. "I can't carry you out of the water if that happens!"

Gally dives into the water, just like that, and then his head appears above the water, shaking the wetness off. "Looks like I can swim."

She smiles. "Good."

And now she hopes those creatures won't show up.

"It's a tad cold, though."

"Oh, don't be weak." A chuckle. "It's perfect!"

Instead of replying, he sends a wave of water over her with his hands.

Scoffing, she does it back.

Three seconds later, they're splashing water on each other, attempting to get the other underwater, and laughing so hard that their mouths fill with water.

It would look ridiculous to anyone watching, but they can't give a shit.

After a few minutes, she finally manages to push his head underwater.

Then he doesn't come back up.

Panic immediately rises. She dives underwater, opening her eyes in the clear water, but it's hard to spot him. When she comes back up, she yells for him.

A tap on her shoulder from behind. "Got you."

She yelps, twisting away from the sudden scare. "That wasn't funny."

"I think it has some humor to it," he says, mimicking her words.

Joan manages a small smile. "We're probably late for work."

They went swimming before breakfast. It has been quite a while since they went here. But alright, it's fun.

"If we're already late, it won't matter if we stay," he replies, pulling her towards him by the arms. It goes smoothly, with the water and everything.

As she hums, her legs wrap around his waist. "I thought you were a rule follower. Always following 'em. No freeloaders, right?"

"You sound like you want to leave." He cocks his head to the side. Smirks. "Do you?"

"Not at all." Her cheeks heat up once he embraces her back. "It's nice here. Aren't you drowning with my weight on you, though?"

"I'm standing." He points at the sand below them. It looks beautiful through the clear water. Shells also lie there, so beautiful she has the urge to pick them up. "Besides, you're not heavy. And the water makes it even easier."

"Right." A laugh, then a groan. "I can't even stand here."

Gally smiles. "That's why I'm holding you."

Her smile returns as she kisses him, her fingers running over his back.

Almost right away, he pulls her even closer. Kisses back while he, again, moves her hair out of the way. "It's always in your face," he mutters.

She smiles against his lips. "Because I always ask Jeff to cut the strands in the front shorter than the rest."

"Jeff cuts your hair?"

"Mhm. I tried it myself once. Didn't work out. Who cuts yours?"

His nose brushes over hers. "I do. Buzzing a bit isn't hard."

"You should try growing it out," she recommends. "Something new. Might look awesome."

"I'll see." His lips press against hers again. Joan hums, heat streaming into her body as her muscles tighten.

Gally slides his hand in her hair. Pulls a bit, forcing her head back so he can reach her better.

Butterflies explode in her stomach. She leans into his touch. Feels his chest rumble because his breaths are heaving, then—

"Joan— holy shit."

They both look up, right at Alby, who stands on the surface, eyes wide.

"And... I'm out," he decides, immediately turning around so he can vanish as quickly as he appeared.

"Guess that's our cue."

❀

"So what's the Maze like?" Joe asks Alfred, who runs a hand through his blond locks.

"Would unlock some claustrophobia at first, but once you get used to it, it has something kick to it. Kinda cool, sometimes. But scary," he explains.

Joe nods, his eyes big. "You think you were close to finding a way out?"

He hesitates. His Adam's apple moves. "Eh, maybe. We can't lose hope."

"Could we talk about something else?" She requests. "Alfred, how are the hammers doing?"

"Good."

"Awesome. I'm gonna sharpen the axes," she decides, getting up. "You two go have your lovely talk about the Maze."

They share a glance. Joe shrugs, then continues working as Alfred watches the girl leave.

She takes a stone, sits down on a trunk with the axe in her hands, and starts sharpening it. It's a boring, awful job, but has to be done.

Sweat's running everywhere over her body by the time she finishes. Instead of a low ponytail, she makes it a high one, and stretches a bit before she decides to cut up some wood. The Builders will need it anyways.

She switches places. Slams the axe into a standing trunk a few times, until it cracks open and the pieces get smaller.

May I say that you look very good at the moment?

Stalker, she tells him. But thanks. You too, wherever you are.

Thanks, woman. Join me for dinner?

Can't say no to that.

She continues working. Sometimes, she glares up, but can't find Gally anywhere. Then, she's busy with the axe again. It's a hard job, too.

Once she has finished, her jacket is also off, leaving her in a white top with straps as thin as spaghetti. In the beginning of her journey here, she would've never worn that in public. Now, she can't give a shit about what others think about her.

It's just stupid boys, after all.

When the noise of the bell echoes through the whole Glade, letting them know it's dinner time, she immediately jumps in line, hungry because she never ate lunch or breakfast.

A whistle behind her. "Looking good."

She turns around. "Thank you, Peter. And hi, Doug. How are you today?"

"Perfectly fine," he snaps.

"Awesome to hear!" Smiling, her head tilts to the side. "Built anything nice today, boys? Didn't get yelled at by Gally?"

"He was too busy watching you," Doug hisses, as if he minded it.

"Oh, well. I mean, we all stare sometimes. Wasn't it nice that your grumpy Keeper didn't pay attention for once?"

"It was rather a disturbing change," Doug says sharply. "There's better things to stare at than you."

A familiar voice and a shadow that towers over them, "Everything all right here?"

"We were just talking about work," she says, looking up at Gally. "You had a nice day, I heard?"

With a small grin, his arm wraps around her waist and pulls her closer. "Very. Doug, I assume you were being nice to—"

Peter blinks. "Huh?"

"—my woman?" 

"Your woman?" Peter gasps.

"More like three-year-old," Doug mutters.

Gally's grip tightens, but before he can say something, Joan does. "Jealous?"

He scoffs. "Who would be jealous of either of you?"

"I mean, you were one of the boys who called dibs. Sorry you didn't get what you wanted." She shrugs, a slight smirk on her face. "Well, Gally, our turn." She twists around. "Hi, Fry! What's up?"

"Not much." His eyes trail to Gally's hand. Then there's a wink at Joan. "Heard some interesting news the other day."

"Really?"

"Freaking out, the shank came running in my kitchen and started—"

"Alright, we're done here. Thanks for the food." Fast, Gally moves further, his cheeks red.

She gulps at him. "Ahw! You were freaking out? And you told Fry? That's so c—"

"I did not," he denies.

"He did!" Fry yells, gaining some confused glances from the Gladers.

"Well, I bet I got way more tea than you, Fry!" Camil says, all the way from the other side of the picnic tables, so he also gets attention from a few boys.

"Yeah?" Frypan grins. "What do you think she told you what he didn't tell me?!"

"How hard he kissed her," he yells, the triumphant smile super big. 

Joan's mouth falls open.

This was not the plan!

"Did you know her lips taste like roses, then?" Fry challenges, sending redness all over the couple's faces.  

"Fry, stop it," Gally hisses.

"Alright, I didn't know that. Did you know he was holding her waist, though?"

"I did know that! And you know what else Gally told me?"

"Well?"

"That they kissed three times!"

"Oh, but I knew that!"

She wants to hit those grins off both their faces.

Embarrassing her and Gally in front of everyone like that!

"Bet ya—"

Both Fry and Camil turn to the boy at the same time. "Shut the hell up, Doug."

Okay, that caused her to laugh.

"You've got nothin' to do with this. This is a private conversation," Camil adds.

"You're yelling," Newt comments.

"ARE WE?" Fry wonders.

"I HAD NO IDEA!" Camil adds in.

"Oh my god." She's groaning now. "Gally, let's flee."

"Not refusing at all."