Night had fallen like a curtain of shadows over the ruins of the abandoned city. The sky, covered in heavy clouds, threatened rain, while the group of Gladers took shelter inside a crumbling building that had once been a hospital.

The distant sound of wind, thick with dust, cut through the silence, but the quiet murmurs between friends and the crackle of a small makeshift fire gave a strange sense of safety... even if only temporary.

You sat in a more distant corner, near a shattered window, eyes scanning the horizon. It was still hard to believe you had escaped. The Glade felt so far away now — like it had belonged to another life.

“You okay?”

Thomas’s voice broke through your thoughts. You turned slowly, meeting those brown eyes that always seemed to read more than what you said.

“Just... trying to figure out what comes next.”

Thomas sat beside you, his leg brushing against yours by accident — or maybe not. He didn’t move away, and you didn’t want him to.

“You know,” he murmured, looking out the window at the sky, “from the start… you were the one who seemed to know what to do. The first to arrive. The first Runner. I think everyone followed you without even realizing it.”

You let out a short, tired laugh.

“I only ran because standing still felt worse.”

Silence. But not an awkward one — the kind of silence full of things unspoken.

“Do you remember the Glade?” Thomas asked, voice softer now. “The training. When we’d get lost in the Maze on purpose just to talk?”

You nodded. You remembered. Too well. How he’d always look at you after the runs, sweat trailing down his neck, but that smile… that smile that felt like it was only yours.

“I kept wondering,” he continued, now looking at you, “if we’d had more time there. If things had been different...”

The sound of metal scraping against concrete cut the moment short. You both stood immediately, instincts as Runners kicking in. Thomas grabbed the knife from his belt. You already held a piece of iron pipe.

— “Behind the reception desk,” You whispered.

You both crept through the shadows until you spotted a figure stumbling forward. A Crank — clearly in the early stages of the Flare. Eyes glazed, but not completely gone.

You exchanged a glance. You couldn’t risk noise.

With swift movements, you lured the creature to the opposite side. Thomas took the chance to sneak up behind it, driving the blade into the back of its neck. The body dropped with only a dull thud.

Breathing heavily, you both retreated to the hallway.

“You okay?” He asked again, his voice shaking this time — maybe from the adrenaline, maybe from something more.

“You’re the one who should be asking that, Tommy,” You replied with a half-smile, still catching your breath.

He chuckled, but then his eyes turned serious. “I should’ve said this before. Back in the Glade. In the Scorch. Everywhere. But there was always... something.”

“What?” You asked, your voice barely a whisper.

“I like you,” He said.

Simple. Raw. Honest.

Your eyes locked, and for a second, the world seemed to forget it was falling apart. He leaned in, your faces so close you could feel his breath.

You leaned in, too. Your noses almost touched.

But then — BOOM — an explosion shook the building from the floor below.

Screams.

The other Gladers were calling.

You and Thomas jumped apart, still staring at each other, hearts racing — for more than one reason now.

He reached out to you, a small smile on his lips. “Later. I promise.”

You grabbed his hand, and the two of you ran together to help the others. But even in the middle of the chaos, you knew: something between you had finally changed.