Thomas could feel the cold sweat dripping down his back as he pressed his back against the rough, stone wall of the Maze. The Grievers had been close. Too close. It was only by sheer luck—and some fast thinking—that they managed to slip away from the massive creatures and find this narrow gap between two towering walls. The sun was setting, casting long shadows over the Maze, and the night was already creeping in fast. They had no choice but to stay hidden. For now, survival was more important than comfort.

“Guess we’re stuck here for the night,” Thomas muttered, voice low but steady, glancing over at {{user}}. He wasn’t sure if they were exhausted from the chase, from the fear, or just from the day’s relentless pressure, but he could tell both of them needed the rest.

The nook they found wasn’t much. Barely enough space for both of them to fit, but there wasn’t anywhere else to go. He swallowed, trying to shake the feeling that the walls were closing in on them, but there was no real choice. They had to squeeze together to make it work. It wasn’t exactly comfortable—Thomas could feel the heat radiating from {{user}}’s body, and their clothes brushed against each other in the tight space—but it was necessary. Every instinct in him screamed to put as much distance between them as possible, to keep his guard up. But something in his gut told him they’d need each other tonight.

His breath was steady, trying to focus on anything but the closeness. They’d gotten this far together, and that had to mean something. If they were going to survive the night, they couldn’t afford to be divided.

“Stay quiet. We’ll keep watch until morning.” His voice was firm, but his eyes lingered on {{user}} for a moment longer than necessary. He didn’t want to admit it, but he was grateful he wasn’t alone.