Alby had you cleaning up after the med-jacks all day today, and you were very annoyed. It was like all of the Gladers were getting hurt on purpose every five minutes just so the med-jacks could heal it quick and you had the joy of disinfecting every nook and cranny of each tool. Great.
"Y/N, help me!" You spun around to see Alby clutching his hand and shiny glass pieces lodged in its upper layers. "Get this stuff out, please." You ran to the equipment table and took a roll of tape, gauze, a tube of ointment and tweezers. You held his hand down on your knees and ordered him not to move.
You skillfully removed the first shard which got into the heel of his thumb, and Alby groaned and flexed his arm multiple times.
"Try not to move, Alby. It'll only make this worse," you mumble and pick out the rest of the pieces, Alby flinching every few shards or so. Finally the glass was gone and you wrapped his hand with some cloth.
"Thanks, Y/N," Alby said as he left.
"No problem. I had to do something after doing nothing all day," you said pointedly at him. Alby scratched the back of his head and looked away.
"About that. I'm sorry, it's just that we've never had a girl before and I didn't know what to do with you. So I made you clean up after the boys, they don't usually have this many patients."
Mhm.
"I accept your apology, now go on and do your thing," you shooed him out.
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The fire crackled far off in the corner as Minho and Gally shared a glass of Gally's disgusting moonshine and you looked on with amusement. Thomas and Newt walked around hand in hand because they were the cutest couple ever (from what your memory allows) and Alby was nowhere to be found. You heard that after you patched him up he disappeared into the Homestead, supposedly really stressed about something.
Chuck nudged your side and began to annoy you like the little brother he was to you. "Hey, I heard you had to clean up after Jeff and Clint all day. How was that?"
"A shucking pain."
"How many times did you clean?" he questioned again.
"A lot."
"Why do you--"
"I'm gonna go get Alby," you said and left, agitated by his questions that brought up your bad day.
The door to the Homestead was wide open and you could hear mumbling inside Alby's room. You knocked on the door and heard him tell Chuck to 'go away, for the sixth time, God'. Instead of listening to the edge in his request, you opened the door and walked inside, boots clunking against the old wood boards. Alby had his hands laced on his head and was looking out of the window to the west side of the Maze, so he couldn't see the Gladers enjoying the night.
"Try again," you said, and he turned and put his hands loosely by his sides. "Heard you weren't to happy up here, thought I'd come check up on ya. You good?"
"I'm just freaking out. Why now do they send a girl with a death note? It don't make a lick of sense to me." You barely remember the day you came up in the Box, but since that mere week ago the entire Glade has been buzzing with the news about 'the chick and the last note'. Kinda hard to forget when it comes up every five minutes.
But that isn't what bothered you. The way Alby treats you as if the last delivery was your fault when clearly it wasn't your doing if you're here. "It's not me. I didn't choose to be here," you finally speak up after seven days. "If you could stop making it sound like it was, that'd be great."
"You really got a mouth on you, don't you? I didn't say that--"
"But you treat me like that," you retaliated, stepping closer to his tall frame.
"I don't mean to, but you wouldn't understand!" Alby got slightly louder and stepped up too, but you weren't intimidated.
"Why? 'Cause I'm a girl?" Your arms folded across your chest in defense.
"No, stop putting words in my mouth! It's because you're new here and I've already lost so many boys that the fact we might all die is kinda killing me. I don't want... I don't want you getting hurt. That's why you've been doing nothing this week: the boys might get you into some kinda trouble that we don't need."
"I can handle myself," you deadpanned with a cold look into his eyes.
"Not what I was saying! Why can't you just understand that you're too good to be getting hurt right now?!" Alby grabbed you by the shoulders and raised his voice, but it still didn't shake you. In fact, you showed him how loud you could get too.
"Tell me why you care!"
"Because I think I like you!"
Alby looked between your eyes and the words set in like a fever. He said he likes you. Alby, the cold-hearted slinthead, might actually have some sort of crush on you!
"Why didn't you just say so?" You moved his hands off of your shoulders and furrowed your eyebrows.
Alby groaned and sat on the makeshift cot in the middle of the wall. "I don't know. Instinct told me to shut my mouth, so I did."
"Do you always go off of instinct?" You sat next to him and dangled your hands between your knees. "Because that one was kinda off."
"Why would I ignore instinct?" Alby chortled in disbelief.
You smiled a little and responded , "If you didn't, we could have this problem solved and done with. Plus you would have found out earlier that I find you pretty hot."
Alby glanced at you with amusement glinting off his dark brown eyes. "You speak your mind a lot, don't you?"
"Just a little." The two of you shared a laugh for a second and Alby apologized again.
"Just shut up and ask me out, shuck face!" you exclaimed. Alby couldn't help but smile this time and it actually looked very good on him.
"Okay, okay, Y/N, you wanna--"
"Yep," you cut him off, and hugged him tight around his neck. Alby laughed again and hugged your waist.
"Now let's go enjoy the rest of the night before lights out, yeah?" You pulled Alby by the hand and led him to the cool night outside.
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