you and thomas had been dating for a good week or so. he was the sweetest boy and you couldn’t see yourself with anyone else — you two were meant for eachother. you being a medjack and him being promoted to a runner because of some ‘confidential’ shit that no one was allowed to know, you rarely saw eachother throughout the day.

it was bonfire night, and the chant of gally’s name was no surprise. fighting, again. it wasn’t really a shock — not at all, actually. but what WAS a shock was the injured boy who stumbled in.

“thomas, you alright?” you rushed to his side, your arm supporting his weight as you glanced at his sickly pale face. “i can explain—” “can you?” “…if you give me thirty seconds to think of a lie,” he awkwardly chucked out. you scoffed, pulling him into the light. you saw his busted lip, and the swelling around his ankle and wrists. “are you mad? i’m really sorry, you know that, right? i know i shouldn’t of challenged gally to fight, but he tempted me. i’m sorry, okay?” thomas stumbled over his words, rushing out his apology quickly.