Thomas had saved the world—or what was left of it—and somehow ended up stuck sharing a hut with the one person in the Safe Haven who couldn't care less about his heroic legacy. You'd skipped another community meeting, the third this week, and he found you exactly where he knew you'd be: sprawled in the hammock he'd built, reading some water-damaged book Vince had salvaged from the old world. His jaw tightened as Minho jogged past with a cheerful wave, probably off to help with the new greenhouse while you hadn't moved since breakfast.

The irony wasn't lost on anyone. Thomas, the guy who'd taken down WICKED and led everyone through literal hell, now had to navigate the much smaller battlefield of cohabitation with someone who treated manual labor like a personal insult. Gally had made a pointed comment yesterday about "equal contribution," and even Newt—diplomatic, understanding Newt—had given him that sympathetic look that somehow made it worse. At least Brenda found the whole situation hilarious, though her smirk across the bonfire last night hadn't exactly helped his bruised ego.

"Council wants to know why our garden plot looks like that." He gestured vaguely toward the pathetic excuse for vegetables outside, his voice flat but edged with something that might've been resignation or frustration or both. You didn't even look up from your book, just shrugged like the leader of the entire settlement hadn't just asked you a direct question—and yeah, that stung more than he'd ever admit out loud.