Feelings

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Do you have fan art? Send it to me through Instagram (Shuckoffgreenie) or email (Acreativeblur@gmail.com) ❤️

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Two months after meeting Newt. Four weeks until first subject placed inside Maze.

  "No." I say, voice forceful.

  "What do you mean no?" One of the scientists, Jeremiah, asks.

  "I don't approve," I respond, tossing the file of papers back onto the table. I run my hands through my hair, taking a seat at the end of the table and folding my arms over my chest.

  "There's no other affective way, Ms. Coleman. The subjects have already volunteered themselves, I don't see what the big deal is."

  "They didn't volunteer themselves for the purpose of science. No one in their right mind would do that. They were scared. This isn't the way we have to do things around here."

  "You can't always play the nice guy–"

  "Enough!" I snap, slamming my fist onto the table. "I will not allow this to follow through. I will not allow children to be murdered. I created these trials for science, not for sacrifice!"

  "Its not your decision to make!" He shouts back.

  My face changes, "What does that mean?"

  "You're no longer the Chancellor."

  "I am," A voice says from the doorway. I turn to see Ava, she looks a few years older. I must be sixteen, the age I am now. "Don't worry, Ms. Coleman. You'll still have a position as a researcher, but we believe this experiment should be under the eyes of authority."

  "You can't do that!" I yell. I know what Ava has always wanted to do to the subjects and I can't have that. I can't let it happen to Chuck, or to Newt or to Aris. The most important people in my life.

  "Take her to her bunker." Ava says, nodding at the guards. They step forward, putting their hands behind my back.

  "Whatever you do, don't hurt them," I say, quieter this time. She knows exactly who I am talking about. "Please."

  She smiles. "We'll see."

  That's all as the men escort me to my room and lock me inside. I immediately fall onto the bed, my head in my hands as I sob into them. My worst fear has a high chance of coming true, and my heart aches.

  I cry for who knows how long until I hear a knock on my door. I stifle my sobs and wipe my eyes.

  "Olivia?" I hear an accent call out through the door. "Are you alright, love?"

  "I'm fine." I reply, thinking about the nickname he just gave me. He's never called me that before. It's sweet and gentle, making a warmness fill my heart.

  "May I come in?" He asks.

  "No."

  "Too bad," He says and the door slides open. Tears are still rolling down my face as he stands in the doorway, looking at the mess that is myself. "Olivia," He closes the door and rushes over to me, sitting next to me on the bed. I try to hold my tears back, but it seems nearly impossible. "Love, what's wrong?"

  I can't tell him. I can't. If I do, he'll know what might happen to him. He'll be even more frightened than he already is. So I lie and say, "It's hard, remembering my parents and the sun flares and how sucky everything is. I just...I couldn't keep it in anymore."
I say, leaning into his chest. I feel him wrap his arms around me as I bring my knees up, curling into a ball as I lean on him for support. I let out everything. The loss of my parents. The destruction of the world I used to know. The fear of the future. The stress of what I call my life. My heart feels heavy and I cry and cry and cry until I am sure there is no more water in my body and until I can't shed any more tears, so I keep my eyes closed and stay close to Newt as he cradles me, rocking me back and forth as my chest spasms die down into small hiccups and my arms shake. He rubs my back soothingly and tucks my hair out of my face as I sit up, but stay next to him. I rub my face and keep my eyes on the ground.

  "I'm sorry." I say quietly. I never wanted him to see me like this. I grew close to him over the time he's been here.

  "Don't be sorry. We all need a good cry." He says, placing his fingers under my chin and lifting my head up to look him in the eyes.

  "I didn't want you to see me like this," I whisper. "Ugly. It's embarrassing. You can go if you want."

  He shakes his head, and traces his fingers over the top of my hand I didn't even know he was holding. "I think you're beautiful when you cry."

  And suddenly, time stops as our eyes stare into each other's. Everything fades away and I am frozen in place, heart beat speeding up to a mile a minute as he leans in. The world is in slow motion as he gets closer and closer, his hair brushing against the top of my head and his fingers gently holding my cheeks. His hot breath against my face until the time the space between us closes and his warm lips connect with mine. It's a tingling feeling at first, but soon enough, all my senses are ignited. His lips feel soft, like a blanket that keeps you warm at night. They feel amazing against mine. All I see in front of me is exciting and I smell the scent of his cologne from his shirt. I hear my heart pounding against my chest as I taste his lips, sweet, like roses. All these feelings are wrapped up in a delightful sensation that only lasts for half a minute before he pulls away, and reality comes back into view.

  He scratches the back of his neck. "I-I'm sorry. It was nice, um, I hope you don't mind–" He rambles on as he gets up and heads to the door.

  "Newt," I say and he turns back around, face blushing. "That made me feel a lot better." I smile because its true, and my heart is jumping and twirling and leaping.

  He shyly smiles. "Then maybe we can do it again some day."

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