CH. THIRTY - FIVE
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"Joannn."
It's like his... third attempt to get her off him, and it's not really working.
"We already missed breakfast," he adds. "And we've both got work to do. Minho's gonna get suspicious."
A groan is all he gets in reply.
She wants to sleep. Last night, she spent hours at a little fire with Camil again, and now it feels like daylight is blinding her, her eyes are super thick and full of sleep, and her muscles are definitely not ready for the day.
"Woman—"
"If you want to get up so badly, I guarantee you you're easily able to lift me off you. Remember? Because apparently, you're such a giant and according to you, I'm not?"
"Hm." His breath tickles against her ear. "...no. I'm not getting up until you do. It's too comfortable."
"Well, then we'll be lying here all day," she murmurs, tightening her arms around his body, mostly to get more warmth, since he's always warm. Not even mentioning how nicely she fits in his arms, and how relaxing it is to rest her head on his chest, listening to his steady heartbeat.
"If only you didn't have a training to follow, Tool-Makers to lead, and things to make. And if only I didn't have to expand the kitchen."
She grunts. Buries her head even further into the crook of his neck. "I don't have to make anything."
"You have to make a saw, mint tea bags, got to restock kitchen oils and Med-Hut ones, and promised Zart you'd do something to get his hoe to work better."
Joan bites her lip in annoyance. "How do you even know?"
"That's a very interesting question you ask there."
"Were you looking in my planner?"
"You don't even have a planner."
"Yes, I do."
"Oh, you mean that blue notebook in which you write super neatly?"
"How come you know how I write in that if you say you didn't look in my planner?"
"Another interesting question, woman. I don't have a reply either."
She gasps. "Are you stalking my plans?"
"I wouldn't call it stalking. I'd like to know when my girlfriend is done working or what I can help with once I'm done."
That causes a slight fuzzy feeling in her stomach. Her gaze softens, yet she still doesn't get up. "That's really—"
"Oh, stop it."
"—cute," she finishes, clearly just to tease him. Slowly, the girl sits up, resting her arms on his chest so they're face-to-face. "How about we go swimming again? That's getting up, too!"
He can't keep his cold look on for long— soon, his lips break into a smile. "Perhaps. But maybe not let Alby walk in on us again."
"He didn't even care," she assures. "He was really like 'I'm out' and then never spoke about it again. Also at the Gathering. He didn't give a shit."
At her amused smile, his smile brightens even more. "Sure, sure. Now come on. Up you go."
"Wait." Quickly, she tightens her arms around him. The hardest she can. "Five more minutes."
"Woman, I can barely breathe like this."
"I assume that every time that I'm around you, you can barely breathe," she states. "This shouldn't make a difference."
"Whatever you say." With a huff, he suddenly stands up, arms wrapped under her bottom.
Joan yelps at the sudden action, clinging around him in case he decides to let go. "Don't do that."
He puts her down. "Had to find a way to get up."
"You're mean." Her arms cross. "Anyway— what do you think? V-cut with long sleeves or just a shirt for today?"
"Whatever you want."
"But I'm asking you!" She grabs two clothings. Holds them up. "Which one?"
"The left one. I'm not a fashionista!"
"You're not even looking! You have to—"
"You'll look beautiful in anything," he cuts her off. "Wear whatever."
Her mouth stops midway, so it hangs half open, and redness spreads around her face. "Oh— thank you," she says, flustered and flattered at once.
Because he seemed to genuinely mean it. Not an excuse so he won't have to choose. Just a honest, spontaneous reply. And her stomach flips at it.
"No need to be flabbergasted," he adds. "Man, I should make you used to this fact until you beg me to stop saying it. Also— aren't you like super confident about your looks? Three seconds ago, you told me to be breathless around you—"
"All jokes," she says. "Let's just move on." Because it gets her blushing even more. "Swimming?"
"Sure," he eventually agrees.
Fast, the couple changes into daily clothes. With towels in their hands, they reveal theirselves to the open air, immediately starting the route towards the lake.
But before they can even reach the woods, they meet someone.
"Alby!" Joan stops walking. "Good morning! How did you sleep? Had a nice breakfast? Hope you did. Such an awesome leader—"
It doesn't faze him. Like, not at all. His eyes just focus on their towels. "Going somewhere?"
"Yes—" she starts, then rubs her chin. "To... collect flowers for my work!"
"With towels?" he wonders, eyebrows lifting.
"We were actually—"
Joan nudges Gally in the side. "We were actually thinking about how sweaty plucking flowers will be. That's why we need towels. Desperately."
A sigh leaves Alby's mouth. "If you want to make out in a lake so badly, shuckin' tell me so I can continue living peace."
"We weren't gonna do that at all," she denies. "Really just gonna pluck flowers."
"Right. And the flowers will wait, and Minho won't, so move your ass and start your training. Gally, your Builders are about to break the Glade down, so go to work."
"Lavender only grows on—"
"No, it does not," he interrupts. "Now go."
Joan and Gally share a glance, shrug, and then part ways.
❀
After another week of training, they've decided she can go into the Maze with Minho.
In those weeks, he made her run a lot. Build up muscles that'll continue to evolve in the Maze. Right now, she's fit enough to survive inside.
"You'll be careful, right?" Gally stops them right before they enter the Maze. Gives her a concerned look.
"Of course," she promises.
Then his eyes move to Minho. "I swear to god if you let anything happen to her—"
"I'm well aware." Minho groans. "You've told me that before. Three times."
Her stomach does a flip. Maybe just from nervousness or the excitement, but probably also because his protectiveness makes her flustered.
"Let's go," she decides. "See you, Gally."
He pulls her in for a fast hug before he nods and gives her a slight push towards the Maze. "Be careful."
"Yeah," she laughs. "I will be."
"I mean it!"
"I know. Bye!"
Joan follows Minho into the Maze. Unlike last time, she now actually has time to look around, and it's incredible.
The walls are so tall that you'd need more than twenty people stacked on top of each other to reach the top. Or use the ivy that's on the walls.
Part of her is curious why the boys wouldn't try that to escape. Obviously, she wouldn't follow, but how come they haven't?
Maybe it has to do with Newt, but she doubts it.
And neither does she ask. She doesn't want to bring them on ideas. They're safer in the Glade anyways, not in the outside world.
"Alright," Minho starts once they're a few minutes into running. "Remember how we practiced with cutting the ivy off so we won't forget the way back?"
"The Hansel and Gretel thing? Yes."
"Do it," he orders. "That wall over there."
The green ivy has grown through the cracks in the wall. Joan makes a sprint toward it, cuts the ivy so it falls to the ground, and then catches up with Minho.
"Could go smoother, but it was great," he compliments.
He showed her the Map Room the other day. After a day of running, the Runners map everything they saw. That's why they sometimes carry a notepad with them. There's eight sections. One opens every day. The walls move at night, causing a new section to open for the next day.
"We've got section three today," Minho announces. "It's not that far away from the Glade."
With a nod, she follows him towards the section. She knows he's slowing down his run for her and that he for sure is fitter than her, but she doesn't really bother it. Soon, she'll be a faster runner than now.
The Keeper pulls a notepad out of his pocket. "We'll just run here. Cut off some ivy, inspect if anything seems suspicious, and then we'll head back to make sure we're back on time."
"Okay," she agrees. Looks around.
Section three isn't much different from the walls they ran between earlier. The ground is just more damaged from the moving walls, which seem taller, and that gives her the shivers at first. Yet not for long.
The deeper they go into the section, the darker it gets, and how thicker the ivy is. The whole time, Joan's eyes stand wide and she's amazed by how this could ever be built by humans.
But doesn't it make sense? The walls are taller and it's scarier around the edges because that's where it gets closer to the outside world. And they're not supposed to escape, so they made it seem inescapable.
"Wait." After half an hour, Minho stops abruptly. His hand moves in front of her torso, stopping her, too. "Listen," he says.
She focuses. Just in the distance, she hears a soft scratch. Of metal moving against a surface, and clicking of something metal, too.
"Shit," Minho curses. "Of course on your first day," he mumbles, taking out a dagger. "You should also take yours."
She does as she's told without hesitation. Her body continues freezing after that, unlike her heartbeat, which has sped up. Another shiver runs down her spine.
Of course on her first day.
"We should head off," Minho says. "It's moving closer. Come on."
With a pull at her arm, he manages to take the girl with him. She follows after him. Her hand tightens around the dagger.
Yet something gets her curious, too. Is it really sending them away because they were so close to the outside world?
"They barely come out during the days," Minho mutters under his heavy breaths. His head turns toward her. "Come on. Keep moving."
"Minho—"
Now it's her turn to pull at his arm. To stop him from bumping straight into an enormous monster.
It's just how she saw it. Spikes, slimy, a giant tale, weird head... a real Griever.
"Fuck!" He curses again. "Move!"
She nods. Moves backwards, not seeing which way he goes. Just like that, they've both taken a different path.
And hers is a dead end.
Good first day!
Joan gets ready to sprint away, but before she even gets the chance, the Griever appears. Gasping, she moves towards the dead end again, all the way until her back presses against the cold wall.
The creature gets closer. She holds her breath. Sucks her stomach in, as if that will help. The dagger is still in her hand, but her body won't move. Besides, what does she want to do? A little knife really won't kill this thing.
Joan watches it corner her. Perhaps at the last second, she can slide away from it.
When the Griever is so close than its metal legs are only a few feet away from her, it stops moving.
It seems to freeze her even more.
Then slowly, it leans forward. Its head is right in front of hers. She can see all the slimy details. The weird eyes, as if its a fly. The few hairs on its head.
Then the Griever screams. So loudly that it rings in her ears. Sends a wave of air at her, blowing her hair back, along with an awful scent, and she can see every singe tooth. There's many.
And just like that, it turns around and leaves her alone.
Leaves her unharmed.