Feral → newt, tmr

Chapter 8: Chocolate Cookies

Katherine’s brow furrows. “The Feral?” she repeats, almost laughing at the absurdity of it. “Sounds like they think I’m some kind of wild animal.”

Newt doesn’t laugh. His fingers brush against her skin as he leans back, his face troubled. “Your subject number…” he begins, his voice wavering.

She turns to face him, the humor draining from her eyes. “What about it?”

“It’s just… weird,” Newt admits, rubbing the back of his neck. “It’s usually a whole number.”

She snorts, trying to shake off the unease curling in her stomach. “Great. They must really hate me for giving abnormal numbering and call me a wild, rule breaker.”

Newt laughs, the sound lighter this time, easing some of the tension between them. “You’re definitely something, love.”

When she wakes, she’s still in Newt’s bed, his arm draped lazily over her waist. He’s still lost in a deep sleep, the gentle rise and fall of his breath soothing. She can’t help but admire his carefree expression, reminiscent of a peaceful newborn.

It’s strange, seeing him so relaxed, as if sleep is the only place where the weight of the Glade doesn’t press down on him. The urge to caress his face flits through her mind, but she pushes it aside, savoring the moment of closeness before reality pulls her back.

She slips out of his embrace, careful not to disturb him, and changes into her clothes, choosing to wear the slightly loose backpack instead of giving it to Thomas. It feels comforting, a piece of Newt close to her. After a moment’s hesitation, she quietly sneaks into the room with weapons and decides to steal small blades from the weapon room, a water bottle and a bag of chocolate cookies from Frypan's kitchen. She’s not about to head into the maze unprepared.

The Glade is calm and quiet as she steps outside, inhaling the fresh morning air. But a thrill of excitement tingles in her chest as she spots two figures sprinting toward the maze doors—Thomas and Minho.

"Hey, boys!" she breathes out, her voice breaking the stillness. Her feet take a run at them and stop right behind them, who are waiting for the maze doors to open.

They turn to her, and Thomas’s eyes light up, relief flooding his expression. "Hey, Kat."

Minho’s gaze flickers to her backpack, an eyebrow raised in curiosity. "Where did you get that?"

"It’s Newt's. A bit loose, but I like it," she replies, leaving out the tender details of how she came to wear it. A smirk plays at the corners of her mouth. "Do I look nice in it?"

Minho blinks, bewildered. "How did you get him to let you borrow it? He never let me."

"I have my ways," she shrugs. Only if they know.

Minho studies her, his gaze sharp. "Did you sleep with him?"

Thomas’s eyes widen, a look of disgust creeping over his face. "What?"

Katherine rolls her eyes. "I don’t have to sleep with guys to get what I want from them."

"Then how?" Minho presses, genuinely curious.

"Told you. I have my ways." She focuses her eyes on the maze doors, which are opening slowly and painfully for the day.

"All right, let’s go!" Minho says, already darting into the maze. Katherine and Thomas quickly follow, their feet pounding against the ground, the thrill of adventure coursing through them.