After chaos comes calm. It's a cliché, but it's so true.

They had been on the run for a long time, too long, really. First the maze, then hell, and always W.C.K.D. Newt had even come close to death, but he survived.

They were sitting together around a bonfire in the safe heaven, watching the celebration unfold, his jacket draped over your shoulders. Finally, free.

They ate dinner in peaceful silence as the background murmur continued, until Newt's deep, calm voice broke through.

"By the way, you look unbelivable beautiful tonight... you practilly glowing," he said matter-of-factly, pausing for a moment to admire you, a smear of barbecue sauce at the corner of your lips. "maybe is the light?"