Jealousy // Gally x reader

Chapter Fourteen: The Kitchen

As I wake up, my fingers locked tightly around the small locket, I can tell by the comfort I feel that I'm not in my hammock, but my confusion departs as I remember Gally carrying me and placing me in his bed last night. 

A sigh of relief leaves my lips as I think about this being my last day of trials. And it was the one I had most been looking forward too, thinking back to my first day in the Glade and how Frypan's kitchen made me feel much safer than anywhere else.

I remove myself from Gally's arms, and he meets me with a disappointed grunt. I laugh at him and kiss his forehead, knowing I have to be up earlier than others when working in the kitchen to prepare for their breakfast. He rolls over, half yawning, half groaning, and slowly falls back to sleep. 

I close the door as quietly as possible but stop when I notice something small beneath my feet. A note.

I pick it up and begin to read its contents:

Dear y/n,

There are currently no words that can explain how truly sorry I am for sending you into the maze. Every time I close my eyes, I'm haunted by the look on your face, the fear in your eyes. I know I betrayed your trust, and I don't blame you for acting cold towards me.

The truth is, I was scared, we all were. Every griever attack felt like we were losing hope, and when they stung you... I panicked. I thought maybe, just maybe, sacrificing one Glader would save the rest. It was a terrible choice, I know, and there's no excuse for my cowardice.

But seeing you run out of that maze, alive, reminded me of something incredible. Your strength, your determination- it reignited a fire in all of us. You proved me wrong, y/n. You proved that we can survive this if we all stick together.

If you can forgive me, I just want you to know that I'll spend every day trying to earn back your trust- I'll even help you prank Gally. You are braver than any of us, and I'm so grateful to be able to consider you my friend, even if you will no longer think of me as one.

Lots of Love,

Minho

My fingers skim over his words, his handwriting slightly messy, making some letters cursive.

Minho himself, the sassiest man in the Glade, had swallowed his pride and written an apology.

His words echoed in my head; each one accompanied by a fresh sting. Banishment, fear and sacrifice. The betrayal still tasted bitter, a metallic tang on my tongue. He said he was scared. A pathetic excuse that caused a part of me to rage. But another part, a quieter one, flickered with a spark of understanding.

The grievers were relentless, a constant threat gnawing at our sanity. Had I been in his shoes, staring down the possibility of losing everyone, would I have made the same choice? The answer, horrifyingly, was a murky maybe.

Then I remembered. The way he watched me leave, the flicker of something akin to despair in his eyes. The relief, barely concealed, when I reappeared. Maybe, just maybe, his fear wasn't for himself, but for all of us.

A sigh escaped my lips. Hating him was easy, a shield against the hurt. But forgiveness, acceptance... that was the harder part. Yet, the image of Minho, laughing and joking along with me flickered in my mind. We were in this together. Trust wouldn't be rebuilt overnight of course, but this step was a good start.

I shake away the thoughts that were fresh in my mind, ready to push it all away and work. It was still early in the morning, and I was hoping that I wasn't running late.

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I sway into the kitchen, instantly being greeted by Frypan's smiling face as he holds a knife and a large loaf of bread out to me. I begin cutting even slices, making sure that there's enough for everyone to have a slice.