Feral → newt, tmr

After they finish eating, no one argues when it’s time for bed. The exhaustion sits heavily on their bones, especially for Katherine, who feels like she could sleep for days. For once, no one’s in a hurry, and as they shuffle toward the bunk room, the quiet comfort of safety feels surreal.

The room is lined with bunks on either side, and it’s far more comfortable than the bare cots back in the Glade. Katherine scans the beds, already picturing sinking into the warmth, letting her guard down—if only for a little while.

"I got top bunk!" Frypan grins, hoisting himself up before he’s cut off by Minho, who already sprawls across the upper bunk.

“Too slow,” Minho teases, smirking down at Frypan, who rolls his eyes with a huff.

“I could get used to it,” Winston says, stretching out on a lower bunk with his hands behind his head.

“Yeah, not bad at all,” Newt agrees, a rare grin stretching across his face as he claims an empty top bunk.

Thomas, however, doesn’t share in the ease that spreads through the others. His gaze remains fixed on the floor, worry darkening his eyes as he glances at Katherine. “Hey,” he murmurs, his voice barely audible. “What do you think they want with Teresa?”

Newt’s expression softens as he claps a reassuring hand on Thomas’s shoulder. “If there’s one thing I know about that girl, it’s that she can take care of herself. Don’t worry, mate. She’ll be alright.”

Katherine nods in agreement, giving Thomas a small, comforting smile. “She’ll be fine, Tommy. Teresa’s stronger than any of us.”

Though Thomas manages a faint smile, his eyes betray his unease as he watches Newt climb up the small ladder. Katherine’s gaze follows, lingering on Newt, who lays back with his eyes still open, lost in thought.

A mischievous glint sparks in Katherine’s eyes as she moves closer to him, grinning. “Mind sharing your bunk with me?”

Newt’s lips curl into a smirk. “You don’t have to ask, love.”

Katherine slides onto the bunk beside him, her head finding a place on his chest as he wraps an arm around her shoulders, his hold steady and comforting. The gentle rise and fall of his breath eases the tension in her, and for a moment, everything feels right, safe.

“I love you,” he whispers, his voice soft as he presses a small kiss to the top of her head.

A gentle smile tugs at her lips as she entwines her fingers with his. “I love you too, Newt,” she replies quietly. He lifts their joined hands, pressing another kiss to her knuckles.

From a nearby bunk, Minho’s voice cuts through the peace, his tone dripping with mock irritation. “Will you two klunkheads stop your confessions? Some of us are trying to sleep.”

Katherine stifles a laugh, rolling her eyes. Minho’s grumbling is half-hearted, almost affectionate in its exasperation. As the room settles, the lights dim, casting the room in a soft glow that blankets them in tranquility.

Soon, the gentle rhythm of Newt’s heartbeat lulls Katherine closer to sleep. For the first time in what feels like forever, she feels a hint of real safety, the constant threats of Grievers and death finally behind her—at least for now.