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❝ look, tommy just give it time-, ❞
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Ben was the only thing playing on Thomas' mind that night. Laying in his hammock, he looked up at the night sky and pondered over the entire situation. The Maze, the Glade, the girl, Newt. No, stop it.
The whole situation scared Thomas. Why was he here? Who sent him here? Were people watching them waste their lives away in this hell? Tears welled up in his eyes, the sting behind them making his head hurt. Rolling over, he folded his arms and sleep took over, his dreams a roaring mixture of Ben's banishment with Newt's touch a central point in them all
***
"Thomas? Thomas?"
Drowsy, the sleeping boy fluttered his eyes open and was met with a pair of brown eyes looking down on him. "You been sent to wake me up?" Thomas questioned them as he rubbed his eyes.
"That's up for debate, Greenie. I let you sleep in considering all of the shit you've been through in the past few days." Newt smiled softly as he removed his hand from Thomas' shoulder which he was shaking gently to wake him up. The sky was barely awake, an orange and yellow painting illuminating the Glade.
"You call this a sleep in?" Thomas chucked, sitting up, cracking his back whilst he was at it. Newt shrugged and smiled. He motioned to the spot next to Thomas, implying he wanted to sit there, to which Thomas scooted over to let the boy slot in next to him on the hammock. Their legs touched, which made both blush severely, but both hid from the other.
"I-I should warn you, Greenie, that you're gonna be with the Track-hoes today. You didn't seem to like the slicing of animals, did ya?" Newt stuttered at first from the sudden touch, but melted into it and found his small ounce of confidence again.
"Why do you guys still call me Greenie? Shouldn't the girl be the Greenie since she came up after me?" Thomas dodged his new planned job and focused on the Greenie nickname that kept being thrown around in relation to himself, which bugged him to the ends of the earth.
Newt held his hands up in defence and chuckled, "Alright then, Thomas."
They both sat in a comfortable silence, their legs still touching along with their shoulders, just watching the Glade slowly wake up to begin the day. Frypan's cooking creating a scent that slowly travelled in the air, Gladers retrieving their tools for their daily jobs, whilst others were conversing in casual conversations. Most of the boys had left the Homestead area where Thomas and Newt remained, leaving the two alone.
Engaging in small talk, Thomas proceeded to ask who the Track-hoes were, to give himself an idea of what he'd be dealing with throughout the day. But only one job was on his mind. A Runner. He wanted to be a Runner.
As if on queue, the Maze doors began to creak open, sparks flying as the metal scraped together, and small two figures waited at the entrance. The perfectly styled hair was a dead giveaway it was Minho, along with Alby, who wasn't a Runner but Thomas heard Alby say he wanted to investigate the Griever that was found on Minho's journey. Curiosity killed Thomas. It made him want the job more.
"How can I become a Runner, Newt?" He turned to look at the blonde's side profile, unable to help himself, and started to examine his sights. The way his jawline carefully outlined his face in a defined manner, the little specks of dirt that created patterns against his cheek, a small scratch that sat gently next to his right eye, like the damage had been done years ago.
He hadn't realised Newt had been speaking this whole time until he met his gaze that looked at him, sternly but still comforting. Thomas nodded, hoping that would suffice and the British boy wouldn't suspect that he was too busy admiring his looks.
"Look, Tommy, just give it time-,"
"Wait, what?" That caught Thomas off guard.
"... did I say something I wasn't meant to?" Newt panicked, starting to slightly shake and curl himself up, a sense of embarrassment taking over, making him think he'd fucked up somehow.
"No! God, no!" Thomas freaked and placed a hand on Newt's wrist that wrested on his knee, a touch that seemed to be common between the two that calmed the latter down when in a state of mind. "I just- er- what you just called me..."
Oh. Those words and along with his touch made Newt relax in the slightest. But what if he didn't like that nickname? "You didn't like it?" Newt practically whimpered, his gaze turned away from Thomas.
With great courage, Thomas softly touched Newt's cheek and turned his face back to his own, both boys staring at each other once again. "I like it, Newt." Thomas turned his lips up into a small grin. This made Newt smile and nod.
One hand holding his wrist, the other grazing his cheek, this position is something that made Thomas go weak at the knees. He was thankful he was seated or he would have crashed to the ground. Was he attracted to Newt? No, that couldn't be possible. No, no, no. Fuck.
They weren't sure as to how much time had passed by, potentially seconds or minutes, but they still looked at each other with a race of emotions swirling in their minds, Thomas' hand now dropped and lightly brushing Newt's hand. This was mental. Until Newt broke the silence.
"Well, you should probably eat something before you start work today. And if you're nice to me, maybe I'll put in a good word with the Runners for you." Newt said in a slightly awkward tone as he stood up, making Thomas' hands fall in front of him, empty of a simple touch.
"No promises there, Newt." Thomas winked, making the blonde's ears turn pink and heat up at the subtle flirting.
"I'll see you soon... Tommy."
There it was again. Like music to his ears.
Tommy.
And then Newt slowly walked away, hiding the massive smile on his face. Maybe things were looking up in the Glade. Maybe Thomas was the answer to it all.
Just, maybe.
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hi all!
sorry for the lack of updates! been super busy lately eek
but in good news, i got cast as sharpay in a production of high school musical!!! i'm super stoked aaaa
gonna be starting university soon so i may be slightly inactive but i'll do my best to keep y'all satisfied!!
