{fallacia - a false belief or judgment about external reality, held despite incontrovertible evidence to the contrary, occurring especially in mental conditions.}
y/n's pov:
As the week continued to trudge along, the worse it seemed to get.
Due to my increased workload, I had decided to designate other capable camp members to some of my other jobs a few days a week. I thought this would be a good idea, as it provides others an opportunity to work a variety of jobs throughout camp, and gives me more time to fix the current issues going on.
At no point did I expect it to end up the way it did.
Yesterday, during the training session I normally teach but had designated to Gally, one of the younger trainees was injured during a practise involving knives.
The girl almost lost a finger, and now has to be out of the class for the next few weeks. Gally was devastated that I had to remove him from the job, and look for a replacement. Newt will be starting the job the coming week, much to Gally's dismay.
Brenda has been suffering immensely with pregnancy related nausea recently, and because of this Lincoln has her practically living in the infirmary. He said that while nausea is normal during pregnancy, he was worried more about the sharp pains she was experiencing in her belly, and therefore is going to keep her in overnight for surveillance.
Thomas has been working overtime this week on the kitchen repairs, as he's desperate to make amends between him, myself and Fry.
Fry hasn't spoken to him all week, and refuses to even look at him when he visits Brenda in the infirmary. A lot of people in camp have been quite standoff-ish with Tom recently, as everyone is now aware that he is the one who burnt down our kitchen and caused all these problems.
As a domino effect through actions, the builders have had to pause their building of the new shower rooms to focus on the kitchen, and therefore every camp member has to share the same damp and smelly showers.
It's often an awkward encounter, to say the least.
However, Newt and I seem to be dancing around the same topic, just as we always have. I think about the things he said that night, and the things that I said in response. I remember him asking me about something I wanted, after he admitted it was what he wanted too.
And yet, we hadn't talked about it.
I think we both know what the other wants and yet, here we are. I thought about bringing it up, about talking with him, even with the conversation at hand being uncomfortable.
But then I remember everything else going on in the world, most importantly in camp, and then decide it probably shouldn't be my priority.
Although I wasn't making him a priortity, I would still look at him from across the table as he discussed his plans for the next hunt. I watched as he spoke to the others, and they listened to his instructions intently and jotted them down on the paper before them.
"Our primary focuses are: medicine of any kind, canned goods, seeds and baby supplies. No one goes off the planned route and no one goes off by themselves. There could be more of them out there so we're not taking any chances." Newt says, his hair drooping slightly over the front of his eyes, and down his cheek.
Others around the table were speaking amongst themselves, but I was barely listening to the mutterings. It took me a moment to realise Newt was trying to get my attention from across the room.
"Y/n? Do you agree with all of this?" He asked, gently.
I stared back at him blankly, watching as his mouth turned upwards in a small coy smile.
