You were the only girl, and the youngest, in the Glade. And since everyone acted as family here, the others played the role as your older brothers.

Thomas, or Greenie as the others called him, had arrived a few weeks ago.

And despite having only been here for a short amount of time, he had managed to kill a Griever, something no one had done in three years.

Gally was less than pleased with this.

Everyone had gone to bed, seeing as it was getting late. The beams of the bonfire still gleaming, illuminating a warm light against your face.

You sat on a log, hugging your knees as you watched the fire dance in the gentle breeze, a slight chill running through you.

Newt sat beside you, conversing quietly with Minho, who got up to feed more sticks to the ever-hungry flames.

Thomas was sat on the log across from you, eating some left over berries from the feast.

Gally was standing behind you, pacing as he crossed his arms, his eyebrows furrowed in agitation.

After a moment, he snapped towards Thomas, storming over as he shoved Thomas roughly, the berries spilling on the dirt.

This caught everyone’s attention, Newt silencing as he watched Thomas stand with a glare, brushing himself off.

“What the hell were you thinking?! You’re a Greenie, so don’t start acting like you know more than us.” Gally sneered, his eyes narrowing in a fierce glare, his hands balled into tight fists.

“It’s not my fault I’ve done more in three weeks than you have in three years.” Thomas hissed back, stepping closer towards Gally, the tension thickening.

Gally let out a harsh scoff, shoving Thomas back again, only for Thomas to step into his space, looking ready to punch him.

Minho rushed over, standing between them, forcing both of them to sit down, the silence thick with tension.

Gally grumbled, sitting away from Thomas. Minho stayed between them, watching them sternly as Newt sat back down beside you, eating some berries.