blind | newtmas | -discontinued.

chapter eight

Newt sits with his head in his hands, knees pressing close to his chest. He's alone. He feels his rapid, uneven heartbeats and counts them as a way to calm himself down. His tears threaten to spill out of his cloudy eyes, so he shuts them closed, denying any pain that he was feeling. The blonde boy concentrates on his breathing now, hoping he could calm that down, but he fails. It's now loud and uneven like his heart beats. His breaths scratch upon his throat like sandpaper, and he wonders if it will ever stop hurting.

Thomas stands dead still, watching the group of boys push Ben, or what was left of him, out through the slowly moving walls with their long, wooden posts. He winces with every piercing shriek and turns his head to look away, but he finds his eyes always glancing back for more. His heart races as the walls are merely about to close, whilst Ben was still running through them. And his eager eyes linger as the walls do finally close, and the figure on the other side disappears, the only things remaining of him are his screams.

The boys around Thomas are silent, all gazes broken on the floor. Some are still glued on the closed walls. Alby, is the first to make noise, he lets out a heavy sigh, as his eyes wander around the trembling figures of the group of boys. He finally starts to walk away, followed by the rest of the group. Gally, whose permanent frown had somehow grown deeper, walks up to Thomas, with his arms crossed.

"Be useful and check up on Newt," the boy says, voice low, "And when you're done, come find me and tell me how he is. Got that, shuck face?"

Thomas nods. He doesn't like Gally, but he understands his worry for Newt. And the boy's words are almost reassuring, as it was the first time Thomas had actually seen Gally look and feel anything other than angry. The brunette stands still for awhile, eyes still glued on the walls of the Maze, as if he was in some trance. It's hard for him to break out of it, except until he's reminded of Newt. He finally turns around, and heads toward the rest of the Glade.

When Thomas finally does find Newt, the blonde boy is composed and still, like he always is. He sits on a stump of a tree, eyes staring off into the distance. He notices a streak of tears drying on Newt's face, feeling a pang of pity. On the floor, is his wooden cane and he notices that it's gone battered, as if it had been used to hit something multiple times.

"Hey, are you okay?" Thomas says, grabbing Newt's attention. He turns his head towards Thomas's direction, and he swears that Newt is looking straight into his eyes. Something makes him feel airy, as if he would float away if there wasn't something that could keep him stuck to the ground.

The blonde boy clears his throat and when he speaks; his voice is raspy and frail. "He was one of my best friends."

"I'm sorry." Thomas says voice barely above a whisper. He's not quite sure what to do, so he stands awkwardly in front of Newt. There wasn't much he could do for the boy because this was a horrible situation, and sugar coating it would make it even worse.

Newt sighs. "Look, I know Gally must've sent you but you don't have to be here if you don't want to. I think it's better if I'm alone for a while."

"No," Thomas says, a little too quickly," I mean, um, I don't mind being here."

"You don't?"

Thomas takes a seat next to the stump where Newt sat. He looks up to see the blonde boy facing his direction, a small smile on his lips. The light is hitting Newt in an such angle that makes Thomas's heart flutter. He frowns at thought of this, though. They sit in an awfully comfortable silence; the two don't really have to worry about not saying anything. They were okay with this moment, minds completely forgotten about what had just happened to their friend, even if it were for a matter of seconds.

Thomas is sure he was going to explode when Newt starts to lean on him, head resting on the brunette's shoulder, but he doesn't. Instead, he leans on him too, moving his arm over to bring Newt closer. He's not sure what this means, but he likes it the feeling of it. And Newt?

Newt stares off into his darkness, except this time, he feels as if it has become just a little brighter.

They sit for awhile, both keeping each other's company by their soothing, slow breathes. It's hard to break out of this new trance that Thomas was now in, but as he hears footsteps coming towards them, he knows he has to soon. He removes his arms from Newt's shoulder and he sits up straight. Newt frowns, but does the same. Gally, emerges from the trees behind them, and he clears his throat. Thomas turns his head back, and sighs as he sees him. He gets up, murmuring a quick apology to Newt, as he shuffles out elsewhere.

"I don't get why you hate him so much," Newt says calmly.

Gally lets out a heavy breath, walking over to sit where Thomas was a few moments ago. Newt shifts, separating their bodies, not comfortable with how close they were. "I don't trust him. There's something going on with that shuckface."

Newt eyebrows furrow, feeling offended by Gally's accusations. "He's a good person, maybe you should take the time to get to know him."

"I don't know, Newt," Gally shrugs, "I know you guys are friends now, but something tells me you should be careful."

"I am."

Of course Newt was, he has to be. The boy can't see the evil in front of him, there's no way of knowing what kind of disguises they've hidden themselves to be.

***

I'm sorry I haven't updated in forever, I'll try to maintain a schedule. But yeah, I've started another story if you want to check it out

thanks for reading I love you all!

~ lexi