A/N: The picture above is literally how I imagine Valerie and Gally their height difference aha :)

~

Waking up with Gally next to me, finding our legs intertwined, my hair in his face, his hand on my waist and the other one connected to mine, my hand slightly under his shirt (I immediately removed it), and it still being the most comfortable was... well, how do you describe it?

"Your hair is in my mouth." He grumbled, almost sounding angry.

"I'm sorry." I peeped.

In just a second, he turned soft again. Weird.

"Don't worry." He shrugged. "You have some kind of coconut shampoo, don't you?"

"Yeah." I nodded, then frowned. "Why'd you change mood so quickly? Are you pretending to be... happy? Nice?"

"Not pretending." He assured. "Just reminding myself that I hate everyone except for you."

My heart nearly jumped out of my chest as my face turned bright red. "Really?"

"Well, I don't hate Fry and Alby, but, that still doesn't mean I have to act nice." He muttered.

I turned even redder. "Then why do you act nice to me?"

"Hm." He hummed, not really replying to my question. Deciding not to bug any more, I spoke again.

"I'll... uh, well... get off you- real quick, right now." Awkwardly, I rolled off his body.

I went the wrong way.

Instead of toward the corner of my bed, I rolled off the bed. And since Gally's hand was attached to mine, I pulled him with me, somehow.

With a boom, we landed on the ground, followed by some groans and curses. His heavy body landed on top of mine.

"Gally." I gulped. "I can't really... breathe."

He quickly pushed his arms up, hovering over me. His breath, heavy for some reason, blew in my face. All I could do was stare into his eyes, and he did the same.

Shivers ran all over my body. Focus, focus, focus, focus, fo-

His lips looked very nice.

Neither of us talked. I looked up at his eyes again, finding them trailing down to, I thought, my lips.

Wait. Was he doing... push-ups?

His arms bent, face moving closer to mine.

Stupid. He was leaning in.

He was leaning in, still watching what I thought must've been my lips.
And then—

The door of my hut slammed open.

The thing that always happened.

"Oh. My. Gosh!"

Ben.

"Shuck. Sorry I interrupted. I'll go right back. Please, just continue." He assured as Gally slowly got off me and I pushed myself up. "I was never here." He mouthed something to Gally and held his thumbs up. "Okay. Imma-."

"What do you need, Ben?" I wondered. It would be awkward between Gally and I after he left anyway.

"Alby and Newt wanted to talk with you." He announced. "Up the Homestead. Don't know why."

"Alright. Thanks."
Ben nodded and rushed away, face bursting with excitement. Gally stood up awkwardly, shoving his hands in his pockets.

"I'll leave." He cleared his throat.

I frowned. "Why?"

"I suppose you need to change...?"

My eyes widened. "Oh. Yep. Maybe you should leave."

He averted his face from me, yet I could see the smile on it. "Right. I'll see you, Val."

"Bye, Potato."

With his back turned to me, he held up a middle finger. "Ginger."

~

Alby opened the door for me, letting me into a small, dark room. There was a table in the middle of it, with three wooden chairs. A faint light hung above it. Newt already sat there, Alby and I followed.

Newt stared at me. He didn't greet, I didn't either. Neither of us smiled or broke the thick tension between us.

"Okay. We're here to discuss about the last bonfire. A gathering could've been an option, but I like to hear your opinions first." Alby explained. "Val, you got beaten up. Peter hurt you with a knife. And most people got drugged."

"I think Newt is still drugged." I spat out, my eyes boring into his angrily. His eyebrows furrowed deeply. Tilting his head, his lips pressed into a thin line.

"We need to find out who did this." Alby announced, ignoring us.

Triumphant, Newt looked at him. "Isn't it obvious? Why find out when we already know?"

Before I could, Alby replied.
"We cannot blame anyone without having proof, Newt."

"There's never going to be proof!" He nearly threw his hands in the air. "No one's gonna admit they did it. We don't have cameras hanging everywhere. All we know is that Gally's the one who made those drinks, yeah?"

"He didn't do it."

"And how would you know?"

"Because he told me. And because I trust him." I stated sternly. "Why would he even?"

"I already told you yesterday. He-."

"I don't want to hear that disgusting story again." I snapped, roughly cutting Newt off.

Alby interfered. "Okay, let's not make it too personal here, yeah? Valerie, I suggest you talk to Gally and try to figure this out with him. Get the recipe and everything. Got that?"

I nodded, leaning back in my chair. "Got it."

"Nice." He looked at Newt. "Newt, don't blame anyone before we know exactly what has happened here. And now, Valerie, you still belong in the Slammer for two days."

My face fell. "Ah, come on, Alby!"

He shrugged. "Rules are rules."

I sighed, burying my head in my hands. "At least let me figure everything out with Gally first."

The leader cocked his head, frowning. "Fine. Tonight you'll go into the Slammer. Spent your day trynna figure out what happened. Yes?"

"Yep."

~

"But that recipe is like the only thing that's... mine here, or whatever!" Gally threw his head back at lunch after I explained him.

"Yeah, well, it's better than being thrown in the Slammer for drugging everyone." I told him. "So you are going to show me exactly what you put in those drinks."

He sighed under his breath. "Fine."

I smiled. "Awesome! Let's go."

Pulling his wrist and ignoring the sparks in my body again, we made our way to the kitchen. Gally took a box out of a drawer, put it down on the table, and opened it.

"Here ya go." He mumbled, motioning at the ingredients in there.

I didn't even recognize half of it.

Bags filled with... flour? A small bottle with alchohol? Pigment?

"Okay. Explain me what you did from the beginning to the end. No details left out." I ordered, resting my back onto the wall.

He obeyed and started explaining. "First I took a bowl, put this in, then this, and then this." He held up all the things. "I could fill like... twenty-five jars with the first few bowls. But then I ran out of this." He pointed at the thing I thought was flour, though he most likely didn't put that in his drink. "So, I took a few new packages out of the Box. Since I asked for them last time, they already lay there."

I nearly gasped. "That's it."

"What?" He scrunched his eyebrows.

"It makes sense." I nodded, taking the package. In there was white powder. "Is this flour?"

"No. It's to make it taste better. Less bitter." He muttered.

"Don't be shy to add more next time." I replied. "Because it's still bitter."

Then my eyes caught black sprinkles in the powder too. Tiny dots. With squinted eyes, I spread some on the table, running my fingers over it and feeling the texture of the black dots.

"Those black things... are they supposed to be in here?" I wondered.

"I don't know. I don't check." He shrugged.

Offended, I glared at him. "What do you mean you don't check? Do you ever check anything?"

He shrugged again. "What the hell am I supposed to check?"

I banged my head on the table lightly, frustrated. "Keep this in mind; next time, check if the ingredients look the same. That they didn't expire date or whatever! Or check if your building is okay and no one will end up under a wall since you didn't— yeah, you get what I mean."

"I do check stuff sometimes!" He defended.

I scoffed. "Like what? Seeing if you're still a boy?"

"For example."

"God, Gally. I cannot believe you." I dramatically palmed my face. "Anyway. So—."

"I don't ever see you check anything." He shot back.

"I check if I don't have a red stain in my pants, that's what I check." I shot back. "Anyway. I think those black dots are what drugged everyone. Is there a date on here?"

"No, because we don't know the dates, remember?" He raised his eyebrows.

"Right." A cough. "But I don't think this is supposed to turn black, even when the date is expired. What I think is..."

"Is?"

"Is that the Box sent this up on purpose. Like, they drugged us on purpose. The Creators knew you would make this, so they put that drug in the... flour or whatever it is."

He rubbed his chin. "Okay, impressive... but why would they?"

"Now that... I don't know."