❝ Remembrance blooms from her fingertips.❞
Subject A0; The Primary Subject
Subject A5; The Glue
The Keeper of the Runners is alarmed when he finds a ball of white huddled in a crook in the Maze's corridors. A girl who is rotted with bruises and soak...
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
It was quiet finally. Newt took me alongside the walls where I would usually do my writing so I could have a break from everything. He didn't leave which I didn't expect him too. I'd rather have him here.
"She seem familiar to you?" I glared at my shoes, not wanting to meet his eyes. He sighed in a fret. "Sorry. I had to ask."
That question felt unfair to me. Selfishly, I was taking it out on any little thing that irritated me. The way the wind pushed up the dog ears of the paper preventing me from writing. The distant small talk of Gladers that were barely audible to my ears. The way my head still ached. I just felt run down and gradually I began to blame myself.
"Penny for your thoughts?" I shrugged. Newt was trying to best to get me to acknowledge him. I knew it was self-centered to how I didn't want to talk to him, but still, I wanted him to stay.
"Why do you try?" He stared blankly down at my question, scoffing lightly.
"Care to elaborate?" I shook my head, dismissing it with a scowl. "No, no. You don't just get to ask that then shrug me off." Knowingly, I smiled.
"That." His lips parted slightly as it hit him. I meant the fact he never leaves others problems once their fixed. He pulled in his knees to rest his elbows on his legs.
I found it interesting how Newt could stay so silent but he was speaking so many things through his eyes. During in the council meeting, it showed evident in his eyes that he had a lot more to say. It was remarkable how much self-control he had over his words.
"You're observant as usual." He cleared his throat, pressing his lips to his shoulder as he stared at me. He just sat there. Not responding and just staring. His morning eyes were speaking loud and clear with emotions I couldn't fathom into descriptive words.
"I just...um...I just can't stand seeing anyone...down I guess." I listened carefully. Like it was my turn reading his book of poems. "I came here and I felt like it was my job to... to keep everyone together. You know?" I smiled gently, looking down.
"You do a pretty good job." He laughed at this, looking up at the sky.
"You think?" I teetered my head, a small knowing pull on my lips.
"I know."
He watched me, his lips fading into a distant smile.
I suddenly felt restless. I felt a fragile rush of it flush through my arms all the way to my chest. I felt tingles at the base of my neck multiply the longer he stared. That's when he cleared his throat, looking out towards the Glade in a fidgeting display.
"How's your head? The stitches still gross?" I felt my face heat up in embarrassment. It caused him to laugh. "Relax, I'm joking. Here let me see." I shifted my body towards him, tilting my head to the side to let him have a better look.
