Scene: It's a rare quiet afternoon in the Glade. The Runners are resting, the Builders are napping, and somehow, Y/N has convinced Frypan to let them use the kitchen for a "top-secret baking mission."
Y/N is covered in flour. There's dough on their cheek, chocolate chips in their hair, and a tray of slightly lopsided cookies cooling on a wooden crate.
Newt walks in, eyebrows raised. "What in the bloody world happened here?"
Y/N beams. "I made cookies! Kind of. Maybe. Don't ask about the salt."
Newt picks one up, inspects it like it might bite him, then takes a cautious nibble.
He freezes.
Y/N leans in. "Well?"
Newt chews slowly, then breaks into a grin. "It's... edible. And weirdly good."
Y/N throws a dish towel at him. "Rude."
Newt catches it, laughing. "You're brilliant, you know that?"
They sit together on the floor, sharing cookies and stories. Y/N tells him about a memory they barely remember—baking with someone they loved before the Maze. Newt listens, eyes soft.
"You're bringing pieces of yourself back," he says. "That's brave."
Y/N shrugs. "I just wanted to make something sweet. Something normal."
Newt nudges a cookie toward her. "You did. And for the record, I'd eat your cookies over Frypan's stew any day."
Newt's Reaction (if he were retelling the moment):
"She had flour on her nose and looked like she'd fought a bag of sugar and lost. But I swear, I've never felt more at peace."
"Y/N made the Glade feel like home that day. Not because of the cookies—though they were surprisingly decent—but because she reminded me what it meant to care. To laugh. To live."
"I'd give anything to have that moment again. Just one more cookie. One more smile."
