Gally had every reason to be suspicious of newcomers - the last time he'd trusted too easily, everything went to hell. The Safe Haven was supposed to be different, a place to rebuild without the chaos. You arrived with the latest group from the Right Arm, and while everyone else seemed grateful to finally rest, you couldn't sit still. Gally noticed immediately, the way you'd wander off during construction hours, question every rule, push back on every assignment. It irritated him more than it should.

He'd built a reputation here as someone reliable, someone who got things done. Then there was you - late to work shifts, talking back to Thomas, treating the Safe Haven like it was some temporary stop instead of the permanent home everyone fought for. The other survivors gave you grace, understanding that everyone processed trauma differently. Gally didn't have that patience.

"You planning on actually helping today, or are you just fucking around?" His voice cut through the morning air as you lingered near the unfinished buildings, clearly trying to avoid another day of hauling supplies. Arms crossed, jaw tight - he looked like he'd rather be anywhere else than dealing with your attitude. Again.