Gally Imagines

=TWELVE= Necessary Mistakes

"I asked you to stir it, Y/N. That's all. Just stir it!"

"I did," you answered Frypan's shouts in a calm tone. "I guess I'm just not cut out to be a Cook."

The kitchen was a smoking mess from the smoldering, unrecognizably-burnt substance that used to be food, laying in the pan that had been quickly pulled from the fire by Frypan moments before. You and Frypan stared at it, then he put a hand to his face, pinching the bridge of his nose and wrinkling his eyes shut, as if he had a massive headache.

"This is just great," he said, implying the exact opposite, "Now what are we supposed to do for dinner?!"

"I told you, cooking doesn't suit me," you said simply.

"How do you know if you won't even give it a chance!" snapped Frypan.

"I did!"

"No, you most certainly did not!"

You shrugged, "I guess I'll have to try another job. Say, Builder?"

Frypan's eyes slowly rose to meet yours, his fingers still on his nose, "Oh no you don't!" he said forcefully, now pointing his finger in your direction, "Don't even think about it! You are going to do this, and you are going to do it right! No more fooling around, Y/N! You are going to fix dinner, or you won't get any!"

You sighed as Frypan slid the still-smoking pan in your direction with a look that said 'you clean this out, no discussion,' so you grabbed a rag, thinking that arguing probably would get you nowhere, and wondered what Gally was doing. His job, duh. Without you.

After having submersed it in water, you scrubbed at the charcoal-ized substance stuck to the pan and let your mind drift to Gally's figure, probably shirtless, working in the hot, sunlight. Sweat glistening off of his broad shoulders and back, mmmmm....

You jerked as Frypan slammed a basket of carrots down beside you and poked a finger at them, "Chop!"

No further explanation required. You could tell he was mad, and you were somewhat sorry for burning his 'creation' (as he called it), but you weren't about to give in and make it look as if you belonged in the kitchen. No Sir-ry. You picked up a carrot, splashed it about in a pail of fresh water from the stream, and then halfheartedly began slicing the orange vegetable in chunks, the size of which you hoped wouldn't get you yelled at, but would not be quite satisfactory. You wanted out of this hot, muggy kitchen, and you would do whatever it took to get you a job as a builder. Alongside Gally. That was all you cared about.

Your mind drifted back to Gally. Oh how you missed him! How was he? What was the expression on his face at this exact moment? Was he crinkling his fabulous eyebrows in concentration at the delicate process of hammering a nail? Or was he standing back, his hands on his hips, admiring his latest building achievement? Or maybe-you blushed-maybe he was thinking of you, and how much he missed his arms around you-

"Owch!"

You were snapped painfully back to reality as you dropped the knife and examined the blood coming from a deep-looking cut on your index finger. Great.

Suddenly you were pushed from behind and shoved out the door by Frypan, who uttered something about blood never ever getting into the food in his kitchen, and to come back once you've seen the Medjacks as he slammed the door behind you. He was still mad. Blinking in the sudden light of evening, you considered your options. You could go see what the Builders were up too...but no, that would probably just get you into more trouble than you were already in, and besides, you didn't want Gally ending up in the pit again because of you. No, if you were going to become a Builder, you were going to do it right.