THE SURVIVOR ━ NEWT ( editing )

𝖝𝖛𝖎𝖎𝖎. 𝖆 𝖜𝖆𝖞 𝖎𝖓

THE SURVIVOR!
a way in.

MARG!

   𝐌𝐎𝐒𝐓 𝐎𝐅 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐆𝐑𝐎𝐔𝐏 𝐖𝐀𝐒 𝐒𝐓𝐈𝐋𝐋 𝐈𝐍 𝐒𝐇𝐎𝐂𝐊, their gazes often shifting from Margaret to Gally. From the moment the twins had reunited, they hadn't left each other's side. Gally had explained what had happened following the events in the lab WICKED took them from, how he'd been rescued by what seemed to be the most extreme part of the rebellion.

While Gally had only spoken highly of the militia he was a part of, Margaret couldn't help but feel like something was amiss. As her twin led them to the leader, Lawrence, the red-head allowed herself to slow her pace, calculating eyes trained on each person they were walking past. While some people dared to meet the teen's eyes, Marg's hard features and stern look seemed to be enough to cause them to turn their back on her almost immediately.

It was almost as if Newt had read her mind, for the sandy-haired boy had soon appeared by Margaret's side, his fingers lacing with the girl's before giving her hand a tight squeeze.

"What is it?" The boy whispered, eyes trained forward in order not to attract any unwanted attention. "Still mad they took your axe from you?"

Margaret ran her tongue against her upper teeth, clenching them tightly as she leaned against her boyfriend. Newt's arm soon circled her waist, his cheek pressed against the top of her head due to their height difference. While the relationship between the two was very much real, their public show of affection was a mere tactic Marg had picked on to manipulate others into thinking she was less of a threat than what she'd appeared to be.

"Keep your eyes peeled; I don't trust these people." Before Newt could even reply, Margaret cut him off. "Why are they scared of me, if earlier on they were ready to run into a rain of bullets?" She rhetorically queried, causing the sandy-haired boy to quirk a brow as she gently elbowed him and jutted her chin towards a burly man who looked at her as if she was a Griever. "As for my axe – if that woman ruins it, I am so gonna make her pay for it.".

The two didn't have any time to continue their conversation, for soon enough Gally led the Group to a heavily guarded room. The smell of flowers was almost intoxicating, yet not in a right way whatsoever, for it was so strong it caused some members of the Group to scrunch their noses, while others exchanged perplexed gazes.

As they descended a set of stairs, Margaret left Newt's side to stand by Thomas. Over the months, the two co-Leaders had perfected the art of silent conversation; all it took was a look, a small shift in their facial expression, for one to understand what the other was thinking. Marg folded her arms against her chest, raising her right brow and slowly shaking her head once as she exchanged a quick look with Thomas. The message was clear; play along, but don't get fooled.