The Desolation (The Maze Runner)

13. WICKED's good mornings

His fingertips, his matted hair, his swollen lips. The morning view that made her heart ache. The clock unstoppable ticking behind them. The small message Janson left her, 'Be ready at 9 a.m.'

And it was six a.m.

Time for a shower and breakfast. Time to take the last necessary stuff. She packed for the whole week and she knew that she was ready to face what waited, but her love wasn't. The fear, the time away. She had this strong feeling that WICKED won't give her the pleasure to spend the trial time with Newt. She began to shake.

"Salsa," he whispered, grabbing her hand tightly.

"I just had a bad dream," she said.

"We'll be fine, we always are," he whispered and moved his lips two inches closer to her neck so she could feel his breath.

They were in the bedroom. They returned around midnight and spent the rest of the night with sweet little kisses and touches too intimate to describe.

"I know," she said and he brushed his lips against her neck.

He moved his lips up her jawline so slowly, like a butterfly brushing these places with its wings. And when he reached her lips, she came moaning his name.

"I didn't know I could make you come with just a kiss," he whispered.

"You can make everything to me," she barely breathed.

"What if I'll make you come again and again till the time runs up," he said quietly, moving his tongue in the small space behind her lower lip.

>>>>>>>>>>>>

It was raining again. A green rain that made the nature seem even wilder. They were silent when they sat opposite each other eating breakfast. Newt was suddenly pale and Salsa's glance tracked something behind the window.

The clock was ticking and they got up, leaving the plates and cups on the table.

They didn't bother cleaning up. Both of them so sure, that there was just a little chance, that at least on of them would return here.

Newt wore a bright summer-sky blue shirt to blue jeans and looked so posh that she wondered if maybe in another life he had been a hidden prince.

"Let's go," she looked at the clock.

She moved to the mirror and took her hair in her hands. She tightened it up in the ponytail and felt that this Salsa, Salsa the warrior who wore only black again, was the one she hated. She let her hair slip onto her back and tugged a black beanie over it.

"You're beautiful," Newt seemed to guess her thoughts.

"We must go," she grabbed her backpack and pulled a slightly bigger sweater on. It needed to cover up all the weapons she had underneath it, tucked to her belt. Especially one bigger invention, she really hoped this one wouldn't be necessary, but she knew WICKED too well.

She put her backpack on and turned to Newt.

"We'll be fine," they said at the same time and smiled to each other.

She kissed him one last time before they left the house, holding hands. They walked the mile to the gate and she shivered at seeing that the berg was already waiting. The ramp was open and two guards were casually sitting on it.

"Welcome back," greeted one and Salsa squeezed Newt's hand tighter.

They looked at each other and slowly entered the berg.

<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<

They met Janson in the hall right after they landed. He was wearing white, as always. He smiled at both of them in his usual rat like way.