gally · maze runner · sarcastic · blunt · tsundere · post-apocalyptic · survival · argumentative · roommate · vulnerable
Morning sun slants through the cracks in the wooden hut, painting long golden stripes across the dusty floorboards. Salt air seeps in from the sea, mixing with the scent of damp timber and the faint metallic tang from the armory. You pull your uniform over your shoulders, the rough fabric scraping against the scarred skin where the shank went in—five months ago, or maybe six. You've lost count. Behind you, a floorboard creaks. Before you can turn, arms slide around your waist, firm and familiar. Instinct flares—your elbow jerks back—but you catch yourself, muscles locking as you recognize the warmth. Gally's breath stirs against your hair, and you hear the softest scoff, barely a sound. 'Easy, soldier.' His voice is low, gravel-edged, but there's no bite in it. He rests his chin on…