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The glow of the bonfire cast flickering shadows across the Glade, the warmth of the flames chasing away the evening chill. You sat on a smooth log near the edge of the gathering, your long h/c hair catching the firelight as you turned your attention to the new greenie sitting nervously beside you.

Chuck clutched a half-eaten roll in his hands, his gaze darting around the circle of Gladers. Despite the festive chatter and laughter, he looked like he might bolt at any moment. He was the youngest glader yet. He couldn't have been older than twelve. He was a cute kid -  a little chubby - with brown curly hair.

"Feeling a bit overwhelmed?" you asked softly, leaning toward him just enough to be heard over the crackling fire.

Chuck hesitated, then nodded, his fingers fidgeting with the crust of the bread. "Yeah. It's a lot."

You smiled gently, your e/c eyes warm with understanding. "It's not so bad," you said softly, your voice calm and reassuring. "I know it's scary right now, but you'll get the hang of it. Everyone here felt like you do at first."

He looked up at you, his expression unsure. "Even you?"

You tilted your head, the corners of your lips turning upward into a faint, comforting smile. "Even me," you admitted.

Chuck seemed to relax a little, though his grip on the roll didn't loosen. "Thanks, Y/N," he murmured.

Before you could reply, a flicker of movement caught your eye. You glanced up, and across the fire, your gaze locked with Newt's.

His expression softened, and a small, effortless smile tugged at his lips—gentle and sincere, as though it was meant only for you. There was something unspoken in the way he looked at you, a connection that didn't need words to be felt.

Your heart fluttered in your chest, a warmth spreading through you that had nothing to do with the fire. You'd admired Newt from the moment you arrived in the Glade—his kindness, his quiet strength, the way he always seemed to carry the weight of the Gladers without breaking. And, if you were being honest yourself, you couldn't help but like him. The dirty blonde hair that always fell into his eyes, that thick british accent that made everything he said effortlessly charming—it had drawn you in a long time ago, no matter how much you tried to keep it to yourself. You'd never been close, but somehow, whenever his gaze lingered on you like this, it felt as though he understood you in a way no one else did.

You couldn't stop the smile that curved your lips in return, soft and instinctive, as though pulled by an invisible thread connecting you to him.

Chuck's voice pulled you back. "Y/N? You okay?"

You blinked, breaking the moment, and turned back to him. "Hmm? Oh, sorry. What did you say?"

"I just asked if you always come to the bonfires," he repeated, his voice tinged with curiosity.

You laughed softly, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. "I try to. They're good for morale, I think."

You were the only girl in the Glade. It had been two years since you arrived, and in that time, you'd earned your place. Coming in fourth after Alby, Newt, and Minho, you quickly found your role as the Glade's medjack. You were thin, delicate-looking compared to the others—your small, slender frame standing out among the more muscular boys. Yet, despite your size, you never let it hold you back.

As the medjack, you were the first one the boys came to when something went wrong. Cuts, bruises, broken bones—you were always there to patch them up. They never saw you as weak or incapable, and despite your small frame, they trusted you to do your job just as well as anyone else. When there were heavy tasks or things you couldn't manage alone, the boys were quick to help, lifting things or doing what needed to be done.

While they were protective of you, it was never in a way that made you feel inferior. You were part of the team, and they treated you as an equal. Your place in the Glade was earned, and you knew you belonged.

You did sometimes wonder why you were the only girl, but there had to be some sort of reasoning, just like the rest of this place. The Creators always had their plans, even if you couldn't see them. It wasn't something you let consume you, though. Hopefully, one day soon, you'd get out of this place and finally find the answers.

You glanced at the fire one last time, feeling the weight of the day starting to catch up with you.

"I think I'm going to head to bed," you told Chuck with a soft smile, stretching a little. "Got an early start tomorrow."

Chuck looked up at you, giving a tired but friendly nod. "Alright, goodnight."

"Goodnight," you replied, heading off toward your shelter, the quiet of the Glade settling in around you as you made your way through the darkness.

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