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[itscalledreadingdarling]

How to Trick Your Best Friend Into Giving You Cuddles - K. Bokuto Imagine

This is all I want in life, no other explanation needed. 

~

“I’m gonna D I E.” I yelled out dramatically, flopping onto the bed of my best friend. 

“Ah, then I shall save you! How must I help to resurrect you from this death you face?”

“That’s the thing, I just don’t know.”

“Death without a cure? What a problem!” He humphed out, flopping down next to me.

“Indeed, I only have 5 more minutes of life left oh dear one, I’m afraid it is my time.” 

“Well it is still 5 minutes, what would you like to do with this precious time of yours?”

“Buy a heater.” 

“Wait-” Bokuto sat upright, “Really?! That’s what you would do if you had five minutes left of your life?

“If I'm dying of coldness, yes, which happens to be my current problem - therefore I want a heater.”

“Dying of coldness is never a good way to go.” 

“Unfortunately it is how death has decided to take me this fine afternoon.” I let out a long sigh. “Damn you death.”

“Well you listen here death, today is not the day you take this lovely human being here, so I regret to inform you that they will become the warmest being on Earth in a matter of minutes.” 

He stood heroically, hands positioned on his hips.

“Well ya best hurry up, I did say I only had 5 minutes didn’t I?”

A large gasp came from Bokuto and he immediately told me to stay put as he ran out of his room.

Within one minute, Bokuto had returned with a humongous pile of blankets and pillows.

“HEADS UP!” He shouted, giving me no time to protect myself from the pile that rained on top of me. 

I was still maneuvering my way out of the twisted blankets, laughing while doing so, when Bokuto returned with two mugs of what I could only assume was hot chocolate. 

He placed them triumphantly on his desk and looked over to me, a wide smile on his face. 

I pretended to look at an invisible figure, “So Death, has Bokuto successfully warded you off?” Morphing my facing into one of confusion and then disappointment, I looked back at Bokuto. “Death says the attempt was unsuccessful.”

I could see Bokuto’s hair visibly droop, along with his posture. 

“Don’t worry Bokuto, you are plenty warm enough that Death won’t be taking you anytime soon.”

I once again could see his face light up and look at me with determination. 

He crawled into the bed with me, and motioned for me to come to him. I did so, and once I was in reach, he pulled me to his chest, so I was sitting in between his legs.

His arms were tightened around my abdomen, my back was flush up against him, and he rested his head on my shoulder, looking defensively around the room.

I could feel his warmth radiating off of him and smiled. Although he didn’t know it, this is what I wanted all along. 

“Is Death satisfied now?” He asked in a low voice, eyes still narrowed. 

I raised my eyebrows and once again looked to a random spot of the room. 

“Death? It’s your call.” I waited 5 seconds then smiled. “Death says I am too warm to die of coldness today. Well done Bokuto, not many could have saved my life like that.”

I could feel him puff out his chest a little, and I let out a small chuckle. 

“That's right Death! Death by cold will never happen as long as I’m around.”

“Well then lets hope you’re always around Bokuto. I simply do not know what I would do without you.”

We stayed like that, drinking our hot cocoa, talking about random stories, and watching movies together all while Bokuto’s arms were wrapped around me. 

I wasn’t aware of the time passing, so it surprised me when I realized the sun had gone down, leaving behind a sky of stars.

A loud yawn from Bokuto caused me to yawn as well. 

“Tired?” He asked.

“Mhm.”

“Well perfect, cause I am too.”

He made no movement to unhook his arms around me, and I was comfortable where I was, so I simply let my eyes close, resting back. 

“Ya know,” Bokuto mumbled, “Next time you want to cuddle just ask me.”

[itscalledreadingdarling]

Just an Accident - K. Bokuto Imagine

Y’all are gonna laugh - but this is based off of something that literally just happened to me : D

 Still don’t know if I’m gonna need stitches or not...

~

“Fuck.”

A loud curse left my mouth, bringing the attention of my roommate to me.

“You good?” He asked.

“Yeah just cut myself.”

“Cutting avocados?”

“Hey, it’s not as easy as it looks.” I cut back, rolling my eyes.

Bokuto chuckled and came up behind me as I ran my hand underwater.

“You okay?”

I cringed as I saw the blood bubble up, a small but deep cut on my left hand right between my thumb and pointer finger. I was lucky it didn’t cut the webbed skin, that would have made it almost impossible to heal.

Still, it looked deep and a part of me wondered if it would need stitches.

“I’m fine, it doesn’t hurt that much.”

In all honesty, the cut didn’t hurt, but the seeping blood and the skin that pulled apart made me feel sick.

“I’ll grab the bandaids, put some pressure on that cut.” 

I hummed in response, covering the cut with a paper towel. 

The longer I stood there, the more I could feel my nausea rising, no matter how hard I tried to push it down.

I leaned down on the cool granite counter, closing my eyes against the dizziness that accompanied my nausea.

“Woah, you doing alright? You don’t look so good.”

“Yeah, I just don’t feel good.” I breathed out. “I don’t do well with this kinda stuff.”

“Blood?”

“Eh, more of the thought that I might have to get stitches... and the separated skin.” 

Bokuto made a weird sound to show his disgust and I let out a soft laugh.

“Let’s see it then!”

I crinkled my nose as he opened the bandaid box, “You make it sound so exciting.” 

“Just lemme find the right one.” 

“You do that,” I said, sitting down on one of the stools. I stared at his concentrated expression, digging in the box, pulling a bandaid out, and inspecting it closely. 

Being his best friend for four years, I knew all his little quirks and odd ends and loved each one of them. From the way he would always hide under small tables when sad, to the way he insisted that we should have a handshake only for us, to the way he carefully inspected each band aid until he found the perfect one. 

My eyes were still locked onto his face when another round of nausea hit me hard. A low groan left my mouth, and I squeezed my eyes shut. 

“Oh shit, sorry,” Bokuto said quickly, and I could hear the concern in his voice. “Here, gimme your hand.”

“Since when are you a medical expert?” I teased through the nausea. 

“Akaashi showed me! Being a top ace and all, I get battle scars all the time” 

I laughed at his usual boastful energy, and held out my hand. “Well, you’re the expert.”

He cracked his knuckles in an almost comical way and then proceeded to lightly take hold of my wrist.

With a surprising amount of tenderness, Bokuto placed two small bandages on my hand in a cross formation, and one larger one over the top to secure the smaller ones. 

“Voila! Feel better?” 

“Ugh, not really, I feel like I’m gonna faint.” I debated bringing up the fact that his warm hand was still wrapped around my wrist, but I knew he would take it off, and some part of me didn’t want that to happen.

“Here, go lie down on the couch.” 

Bokuto guided me over to the couch and grabbed a pillow for me to lie my head down on. 

Throwing my arm over my eyes to block out the dizziness, I focused on trying not to throw up.

It was about 15 minutes of blocking out my surroundings before I felt normal once again, my stomach finally settling.

I opened my eyes to Bokoto chopping up some cilantro for our dinner. 

“Bo, you know it’s my turn to make dinner, lemme cook it.”

“Nope! You are severely injured and I must do my duty to avenge your poor cooking skills. Gotta prove to the food that we are still worthy of eating it.” 

A snort left my mouth at his words, “Uh-huh, and you’re sure you can do better?”

“Oh definitely.”

“Great, then I challenge you to a cookoff. Loser has to cook dinner for a week.” 

“You’re ON.” Going quiet, we both stared at each other. He eyed me suspiciously. “You sure you’re up for this?”

“Geez Bo, it was just a small cut.” 

“Uh you did kinda almost faint. Thought I was gonna have to swoop in like the amazing savior I am.” 

I was leaning on the counter towards him, my eyebrow quirked up.

“Is that so?”

He reciprocated my action, leaning towards me and quirking up his own eyebrow. 

“Can’t have my best friend fainting on me can we?”

“I don’t think we can afford to burn down the apartment again either.”

Bokuto’s eyes went wide and he leaned in closer.

“I thought we agreed not to ever mention the incident.”

“We did but I don’t think our landlord would like it if we had another cooking competition.. especially if it ends like last time.” I whispered back.

Bokuto looked over to the side at the food I was planning to cook, back to my bandaged hand, and back towards my eyes. “Take-out is always an option.” He said, wiggling his eyebrows.

I laughed, shaking my head. I didn’t dare count the number of times we had gotten take out in the past month and instead agreed to the suggestion. 

We had soon settled in with our food on the couch, watching a Disney movie as we liked to do. 

Sitting side by side, eyes glued on the screen, I hadn’t realized that Bokuto had been inching his hand closer to my left one until he clasped onto it.

My heart skipped a beat and I looked over to him, noticing his face was a bright red. 

“Uhhhh, Bokuto?” I raised our joined hands. “What’s this?”

“I’m protecting your hand.” He said, and he sounded so serious that a smile crossed my face.

“And what are you protecting it from exactly?”

“Monsters. And avocados. Of course.” 

“Of course,” I said, rolling my eyes in humor, “How could I not know that?”

“We can’t have your hand getting more hurt can we?”

“It was an accident Bo, it won’t happen again.” 

And because of the movie in the background, the outside street noise, and the way that his voice was just above a murmur, so unlike his usual boisterous tone, I almost missed it - a sentence that made me giddy from head to toe.

“Well maybe you should get into accidents more often.”

[itscalledreadingdarling]

You Weren’t Supposed To Get Hurt - Newt Imagine

Lines indicate time passes, enjoy :)

*Differs from both movies and books

~

Someone was bound to get hurt.

It was inevitable, really.

I just didn’t think it was going to be me.

I was untouchable, said the gladers. Throughout my 6 months I spent in the glade no one nor anything seemed to injure me.

When we escaped, people died. I was one of the lucky ones who made it out.

When we broke out into the scorch, I was never once bruised, scratched or otherwise.

When our position with the right arm was revealed and chaos broke out, I joined the fight, bullets flying left and right.

Still, nothing ever touched me.

Not when WCKD took loads of immunes, including Minho.

Not when we attempted to rescue him.

Not when the giant wall that separated WCKD and thousands of people started openly shooting.

Utterly untouchable.

It used to be a joke amongst the gladers.

There was no time for joking anymore.

Now, it became a gift. A strategy.

It would all come down to me.

In my hand was the one most important thing, a blue vial.

The serum.

The cure.

The only thing that determined whether Newt would live, or die.

I had to get it to him.

My lungs burned and my legs ached and still, I kept running.

I wasn’t used to it, running so much.

I was a cook in the glade, along with Frypan.

Now it seemed that I was running every day.

This time though, I didn’t think about it.

Instead, I thought about Newt.

The way he always managed to make me laugh, even in the times where laughing seemed unreachable.

The kindness behind every action, just wanting to keep his friends safe.

Always trying to make it to a place where we would be safe, fighting until there was no more fight.

Shit.

I couldn’t lose him.

I ran faster.

——

Newt was teetering on the edge of sanity when I finally reached where we agreed to meet up.

His humanity was almost gone.

The flare was him and he was the flare.

He was fighting Thomas .

There were only brief moments when he would realize what he was doing, and pause, begging for Thomas to kill him.

He wanted it to be over.

He didn’t want to become one of them.

A crank.

“Please Tommy, please. Please.”

I could feel tears spilling down my cheeks at the scene before me, but I didn’t let them deter me, still running, screaming at Thomas that I had it, I had the cure.

Thomas’s eyes flicked to me, unfortunately at the wrong time, as Newt took the chance to lunge at Thomas while he was momentarily distracted.

He was able to successfully pin him to the ground, Thomas stuck underneath him.

Newt had a knife, and was pressing it down towards Thomas’s chest, while Thomas was struggling to keep it from penetrating him.

I was quick, sliding to my knees, and pulling up Newt’s sleeve, which was proving to be difficult.

It took a few seconds, but I thankfully was able to get it up, a sick taste entering my mouth at the sight of the snaky black veins that crawled up Newt’s skin.

It was then that Newt noticed me.

I was surprised he hadn’t before, I wasn’t trying to be stealthy in any manor. I was prepared for a fight.

But I was so close, all I had to do was plunge the syringe into his arm, and all would be fixed.

It all happened so fast that I wasn’t aware of it.

I stuck the needle into his arm, and pushed down the top, the serum slowly draining from the tube and into Newts bloodstream.

I looked up, just in time to see the darkness fade from his eyes and a haunting look of horror flicker on his face before he slumped to the side, Thomas and I lunging to grab him before he slammed his head on the concrete floor.

Out of pure adrenaline, or perhaps hysteria, I laughed.

It hurt to laugh but I couldn’t stop.

There was to much adrenaline in my body that it felt unnatural.

I heard Thomas say my name, quietly. Scared.

I looked up at him with a bright smile. I expected him to look happy, we had just saved Newt.

But rather he looked at me, pain and fear freezing his features.

“What?” I chuckled.

He simply pointed to my stomach.

I looked down and like a button was pressed, my laughter cut off.

Blood.

Seeping.

Red.

To much of it.

I looked back up to Thomas, pain flooding in. It was strange, how the body worked. I hadn’t felt it until I was focused on it. Until the adrenaline shut off.

His eyes flickered to the knife that lay limply in Newts hand, blood coating the tip.

My blood.

I could see black spots in the corners of my eyes.

I was gonna pass out.

Shit.

“Don’t tell him.” I mumbled.

And then the world went black and the pain faded.

——

I opened my eyes to light.

Bright, blinding light.

A small groan left my lips as I slowly sat up.

What the hell?

I lifted up my shirt - different than the one I wore last time I was conscious - and my fingers hovered over the thick bandage wrapped around my abdomen.

There was a light red, excess blood seeping through the bandages, and there was a dull ache emitting from my stomach, but not as badly as I remembered.

I winced as I stood up from the bed, a sharp pain shooting through my body, and my hand immediately flew to my stomach, holding my arm around myself as if it would barricade the pain.

I could hear laughter outside of the hut, and I took a moment to take in the unfamiliar surroundings.

The air smelled salty, such a stark contrast from the glade, that smelled of dirt and earth.

I slowly walked out of the hut, trying not to aggravate my injury too much.

When my eyes adjusted to the outside light, I was able to take in everything around me - from the blue of the ocean, to the tan grains of the sand, the giant huts and billowing sheets of white that covered them, and the abundance of people milling about.

A small breath of laughter left me, we had done it. We actually did it. We were safe.

I scanned the crowd until I saw a familiar face.

“Minho!” I called out, and I could see him turn to me, before jogging over with a smile wide on his face.

I guessed that he was aware of my injury, as he hugged me gently from the side, rather that his usual tight squeeze.

“We thought you were dead shank, how you holdin up?” He gestured to my bandages, hidden by my shirt.

“I’m doing alright. Hurts a shucking ton though.”

He let out a small chuckle, and called out for Thomas and a couple other of the gladers, each greeting me like Minho did.

It seemed all of them knew about my injury, hugging me with care, some looking concerned.

“Hey, where’s Newt?” I questioned.

“Oh, he’s over by the crops, helping Vince or something like that.” Minho replied, pointing to a group of people further away from the groups of shelters.

“Thanks.” I said, making my way over to the gardens in the distance.

I really hoped the serum had worked. It sounded like it had.

If Minho wasn’t worried then Newt should be fine.

I spotted him quickly, his blonde hair glowing in the sunlight, and his skin perfectly free of any black veins.

“Newt!” I called out, waving my hand at him.

He immediately dropped whatever was in his hands, and jogged towards toward me.

Newt was quick to wrap me in an embrace, holding me tightly.

So Thomas did hear my request.

Don’t tell him.

Don’t tell Newt that I’m injured.

Don’t tell Newt that he was the one who injured me.

It seemed Thomas had understood what I was asking, and complied.

For that I was thankful.

The rule back in the glade was never to hurt another glader on purpose.

I don’t know what Newt would do if he found out he had hurt me.

Found out that I was hurt.

I was supposed to be untouchable after all.

I never questioned his intense protectiveness over me - it made me feel loved, and safe.

He was never overbearing about it, knowing I could handle myself, but that’s just who he was. Always wanting to protect and save everyone. I would break him to know he failed his moral.

So I should’ve been prepared for a full on hug, but I wasn’t.

It was to late to hide my yelp of pain, a tight wince on my face as pain racked through my abdomen.

“Woah, are you okay?”

His face wore concern, but I decided to brush it off.

“I’m fine.”

Yet my arm still circled my stomach, clutching the thick bandages.

“You’re obviously not.”

“I’m fine, really Newt.”

I looked at him and he looked at me. He knew I was lying.

I didn’t have any excuse so instead I came up with the best idea I could.

I walked away.

I had expected him to follow me, but when I looked back, he stood there with a dejected look on his face.

This was not the reunion I wanted.

——

A huge bonfire was lit in the middle of the beach.

There was music, and dancing, and laughter.

I was sitting with some Group B girls who had approached me, laughing lightly with them.

It was nice to have some girl company for once.

“Woah, what’s happening over there?” Asked one of the girls, gesturing to the left of where we sat together.

My gaze flipped over to where she was directing her comment at.

It was Newt, looking angry at a flustered Thomas.

I looked at the girls and shrugged. “I’ll go check it out.”

They let me go with the promise to bring them back all the tea, and I agreed with a chuckle.

Newt was close to yelling, as once I got a bit closer I could hear each word loud and clear.

“What do you mean she was bloody injured?”

My step paused, and I glanced at Thomas, who had noticed my presence and looked sheepish. ‘Sorry,’ he mouthed.

I saw Newts head swivel my way, looking at me with disbelief.

“Why the hell would you keep something like that from me?”

I didn’t answer, looking at him with silence, so he asked another question.

“What happened?”

At that, I lowered my eyes, and became very interested at a particular grain of sand just at the toe of my right shoe.

Newt was always good at connecting the dots.

“I.... I didn’t do that did I?”

His voice was soft, so that I could barely hear it over the chatter and crackling of the fire. The pain was evident in his voice, and I knew there ways no trying to lie my way out of this one.

“You were half delusional with the flare-“ I began to reason, but he had already stalked off. “Shit.”

I looked at Thomas who still looked sorry for spilling the secret, and Minho who was now whistling and looking anywhere but me.

I almost wanted to laugh at the situation, for believing that I could actually get away with the whole thing.

Instead I stalked off in the direction he went, ideas to try and make him understand that he shouldn’t feel like it was his fault running trough my mind.

I didn’t know how long I had been walking for to find Newt, and looking back, the bonfire was only a speck in the distance.

Here, it was just the stars and the waning moon lighting the cold beach sand.

I had taken my shoes off halfway through the walk, enjoying the tickle and peacefulness of being barefoot on a beach.

It wasn’t hard to find Newt, there was a trail of footsteps leading up to where he sat, off in the distance, and my injury made it hard for me to move at a faster pace, so I continued my slow treck - enjoying the moment alone while breathing in the salty air.

It felt wonderful.

Safe.

It was a rare feeling to come by in a predicament such as ours but we had done it.

And when I finally reached him, I laid down in silence, looking up at the stars.

It was silent for awhile before he began to talk.

“I had nightmares; when we first arrived and I was fully healed. Most of them consisted of you. You being tortured, you being dead. I remember there was one where you were screaming and I couldn’t get to you. It was like I was stuck. They’re all bloody terrible but the worst one was when I was a crank, fighting Tommy. You were trying to help me, give me the cure but - the flare - it consumes you. I didn’t know what I was doing. But I remember so distinctly taking my knife and running it across your stomach, deep... it always ended there.”

He pauses briefly, taking a shaky breath.

“I always thought they were just nightmares. I guess that last one was actually a memory.”

He was staring out into the distance, at the dark ocean.

I stayed silent.

“Can I see it?” He questioned quietly.

I sucked in a breath of my own, but nodded, knowing that he needed to see it for himself.

I sat up slowly, and lifted the bottom of my shirt, giving him access to where my bandage was tied up at the back.

I looked down and saw a noticeable difference from when I checked it earlier. The light red has blossomed into a darker one, coving almost the whole front of the bandage.

I hadn’t even seen it myself, and I wasn’t sure I wanted too.

I closed my eyes as Newt carefully unwrapped my bandage, until I could feel the sting of cold air hit the injury.

“Fuck.”

His reaction was enough to get me to look down and I could feel a bad taste in my mouth again.

Although stitched up, there was still blood oozing and so much red.

I looked up and closed my eyes again.

I had never done well with blood, always making Frypan cook the freshly cut meat, and turning down a part time medjack job after helping Frypan with a small burn he had recived from cooking said meat.

“I’m so bloody sorry love.”

I looked at him, tears in his eyes and his hand shaky, hovering just above the cut.

“Hey, Newt, it’s okay.”

“No it shucking isn’t.”

He sounded angry, force behind his words but it was only a short burst, his voice turning sad again as he cursed more.

His fingers trembled slightly as he carefully wrapped the bandage back up, asking if he needed to make it more loose or tighter.

Chills ran up and down my body when I felt his fingers brush my bare skin, and was disheartened when he finished.

I hadn’t talked much during the whole ordeal, not knowing what to say, and afraid to voice the wrong thing.

Mostly, I just wanted him to stop blaming himself, like I knew he was.

“I should’ve done something to stop it, I should’ve-“

“Nope, we aren’t doing this. Stop it.” I said firmly.

“No, it’s my fault, I should’ve just fought I harder, if I could’ve-“

And because I couldn’t think of any other way to get him to stop talking, I grabbed his chin, and pulled him down to me, gently colliding his lips with mine.

It was moments of pure bliss, before I pulled away and looked into his searching eyes.

“I told you to shut up.”

And it was like all traces of our previous conversation had dissolved when he mumbled, “Tell me again,” moving his hand so it was cupping my right check, and bringing our lips together once more.

It was soft, but I could still feel his anger and sadness and I pressed my lips harder to his.

When we broke apart, he rested his forehead against mine, both of us breathing harder than normal.

“You weren’t supposed to get hurt.” He said.

“I would’ve done it again. You’re alive Newt. That matters more than a cut.”

He just hummed a response, though I couldn’t translate what he meant by it.

“Wanna go back?” He asked.

“No.” I simply said.

So we sat side by side, watching the waves crash against the beach.

Simple.

Beautiful.

Peaceful.

Safe.

Together.

[itscalledreadingdarling]

No One Survives A Night In The Maze - Newt Imagine

The lines seperate points of view, though it doesn’t mention who (you should be able to figure that part out yourself :)

*Differs from both books and movies

~

No one survives a night in the maze.

It was the first thing I was told when I entered the glade.

It’s the only thing I can hear apart from my feet coming down on the concrete floor and my heavy breathing.

I stayed out to late.

I wasn’t paying attention.

For this I will die.

There is a sharp corner that I manage to turn smoothly and take off, knowing where I am now.

I am close to the doors.

I must get there before they close.

I have to succeed or I will die.

A large boom echos through the maze and a large gust of wind flows past me.

The doors are closing.

I have run out of time.

I will die.

It is over the screeching of the doors that I hear yelling.

And when I turn the last corner I see its source.

The other gladers have spotted me.

They know I will die if I don’t make it to them.

I must make it to them.

I full out sprint, pooling every last bit of energy I have into this last distance.

As I get closer I can see their faces more clearly.

Chuck, screaming at me so much the his face has gone red.

Gally, who is telling me to push harder, run faster.

Minho who is yelling at me to move my ass, I’m not dying on his watch.

Thomas, the greenie, looking concerned, and I can tell by the look in his eyes that he wants to run into the maze, to help me. It’s the same move I tried to make when I was a greenie. When someone else was in my situation.

They didn’t make it.

I need too.

It’s Newt’s face that I focus on though. He isn’t screaming at me. He looks calm. It is because of this that I instantly know he isn’t.

He wants to run to me.

He has his limp.

We would both die.

He would tell me that it would be for the best, going together rather than separately.

He is scared.

He can’t show it.

As second in command he must be put together, just as Alby is next to him.

He is going to cry.

I can tell by the way his jaw is clenched, the way his shifts is weight from foot to foot - not favoring his good one like normal. I can tell by the way his stare at me is unwavering. The way he runs his fingers over his lips, like he always does when stressed.

In these last moments I find myself wondering why I know this.

I’ve never seen Newt cry.

It’s the fact that I know he will, that scares me.

Perhaps even more than being stuck in here overnight.

I push harder, until I cant feel my legs.

It’s not enough.

I see the doors shut.

I feel their boom.

It goes silent.

I am dead.

———

The girl does not see it but all the gladers have gone quiet.

Chuck doesn’t believe it. He doesn’t want to. He stares as the rest walk away.

Gally never cared much. But he did for her. She understood him. She was his friend. She is dead now.

Minho knows there is no survival in the maze, just as everyone else does. As much as he believes in the girl, as many races as she has beaten him in, he knows she will not be fast enough. No one ever is.

Thomas has heard what the gladers have told him, over and over. No one survives a night in the maze. But he holds hope. She will survive. She has too.

But mainly, they worry for Newt. There is no worry to spare for the girl, she is as good as dead. But Newt. Newt is alive. And she will not be.

They know that will break him.

Newts chest heaves.

Everyone knows how much the girl means to him.

No matter how much he has told them that they are just ‘best friends’ they all know he cares for her more than that.

They look to the second in command.

They pity him. The girl will never know how Newt felt about her. They don’t know how it feels, but they still sympathize.

It is only Minho who knows how Newt got his limp.

They never told anyone, and Newt said not to worry, that he wouldn’t try again, but still Minho watches over him.

His friend was empty.

He wasn’t like that anymore, not since she arrived.

For the first time it wasn’t just about making it through every day for him.

It was about living.

Something he hadn’t done in forever.

It looks as though Newt has died rather than her.

Minho knows that this is likely possible.

Newt has lost his life.

Minho knows Newt will make sure he won’t fail the next time he try’s.

Minho will do his best. He don’t know if it will be enough.

Newt turns away.

And when he walks away, the others follow.

If Newt has given up, there is no hope for the girl.

None at all.

———

I have failed.

I will be dead by morning.

I belong to the maze now.

But because I am human, I have a natural instinct to survive.

To try my best even though there is no hope.

This instinct tells me to run.

So I run.

It is not long before my breath gets heavy once more.

I was running all day. Now I will be running all night.

If I pass out from exhaustion, maybe death will come more painlessly.

It isn’t long before I hear the first griever.

The metallic whirrs send chills down my spine. I know that if I make it out alive, this moment will haunt me.

I pause to evaluate. I don’t see the grevier but I hear it coming closer.

Its too late when I realize it’s above me.

Jumping down, it pins me and I have nowhere to move.

I scream.

It’s painful. It holds fear and terror and in some way, it’s my final words.

My journey ends here.

———

No one returns to work in the glade.

No one wants to carve her name off of the wall.

No one is brave enough.

But they must.

Alby doesn’t make them go back to work.

He liked the girl. She was kind, hardworking, and made people laugh.

He morns for her.

It is Gally who scratches her name off the wall.

Gally is halfway through when Thomas speaks up.

“What if she survives?”

It’s as if the universe has some terrible, divine timing, for at that moment the girl’s scream pierces through the air.

It is a scream of death.

Gally continues scratching.

———

My throat hurts because I screamed.

By stomach hurts because I was clawed by a griever.

My lungs hurt because I have been running for too long.

My legs ache.

My head pounds.

And yet my heart beats. And for that I am grateful.

I don’t know how I am alive.

It all happened to quickly.

But I got out from under the griever.

I run still, because that same griever is still chasing me.

I run because I forgot one crucial element.

At night, the maze changes.

I feel I am doomed.

Instead, I use it.

Walls move, and sections change and I maneuver - loosing griever after griever.

Killing, griever after griever.

5 of them are dead when the sun peaks through.

I should be overrun with joy.

I have made it through the night.

Instead I collapse on the ground next to my newest kill.

I have ran too long.

I have lost to much blood.

I am alive.

But I feel I won’t be for long.

———

No one can find Newt when the sun peaks through.

No one would normally wake up this early.

No has had to.

No one has slept.

Death was no stranger to the glade.

There were dark days, in the beginning. There were banishments. And there were those who had gotten trapped overnight in the maze.

Yet somehow, this one hit harder.

It was strange, having a girl come up in the box.

Different.

Confusing.

But she had quickly proved herself, fitting right in with the glade, becoming one of the strongest.

If they were not friends with her they held high respect for her, as they did with Alby, and as they did with Newt.

She brought laughter to the glade.

All traces of said laughter was gone.

And no one could find Newt.

———

I had laid one whole hour.

I had expected death to come, take me into it’s cold hands. My destiny was sealed the moment the doors closed, locking me in the maze.

No one survives a night in the maze.

Yet I seem to have stayed alive through it all.

And all I feel is the cold concrete on my skin, the sting of my injury, and the ache in both my lungs and my legs.

I am tired, yes, but I am not dead.

I have done it.

I imagine what it will be like when I walk through the maze doors when they open.

They will all be there, lined up and they will all cheer for me. We will all hug and I will get asked millions of questions. The night will be worth surviving.

I look at my watch again.

The doors will open soon.

I want to be there when they do.

I pick myself up, wincing as I do, but standing none the less, and break out into a run.

This time I do not run for fear of life, but rather for the sake and hope of returning.

The feeling brings a new kind of energy into my body, and I pick up my pace.

I have survived a night in the maze.

I have done the impossible.

———

The doors open.

No one looks at them.

No one wants to work.

Alby makes them.

“We cannot survive if we don’t do our jobs.” He says.

There are no more runners left. Only Thomas and Minho remain. The rest have quit.

The two know they should go out.

They don’t.

Alby looks mad about it.

Neither care.

Alby understands.

Chuck runs up to the maze entrance and waits.

No one has the heart to tell him that she will not be coming through that door.

30 minutes later Thomas joins Chuck.

They sit side by side.

They know it’s hopeless.

They still wait.

No one can find Newt.

———

I have not memorized the way I ran.

It takes me longer to get back then I had thought.

It has been 47 minutes since the doors opened for the morning when I turn a familiar sharp corner.

It’s been 48 when I see these doors, open wide.

I pause.

There are only two figures sitting by the maze door.

I already know who they are.

“CHUCK!” I call out. “THOMAS!”

I can hear the pure relief in my voice, and I can see them look up and I will forever remember the way their faces light up.

Thomas gets to me first, running straight at me, and picking me up, spinning me around. Chuck arrives right after Thomas sets me down, giving me a big hug of his own.

It is then I realize I am crying. For my survival, for my pain, and for my joy.

“GUYS SHE DID IT. SHES ALIVE!”

Chuck runs around the glade screaming at everyone that I have made it.

And just as I suspected there are hugs and so many questions.

But there is no Newt.

I tell them there are 5 dead grievers, that I used the changing walls to kill them. I tell them about my injury, Cliff and Jeff immediately patching me up. I answer each and every question. I never ask any of my own.

I only have one anyway.

And when I do ask, I get silence and the sharing of looks between gladers.

“We can’t find him.”

———

I am mad at myself.

For failing.

I was stupid enough to get caught up in the ivy.

If I had succeeded I wouldn’t have my limp.

If I had succeeded I wouldn’t have met her.

If I had succeeded I wouldn’t feel so useless, standing by and watching the door close.

If I had succeeded I wouldn’t have had to hear her scream.

If I had succeeded I wouldn’t have to live with her death.

I feel dead.

I want to die.

And that’s the truth.

No one will find me.

And when they do,

They won’t find me alive.

———

I find him right away.

It was a spot I had found when I had just come up in the box.

There were too many eyes, too many boys, too much confusion.

I needed quiet to think.

So I found a small clearing, hidden by an unusually placed willow tree.

It had seemed obvious enough to me, but I liked how it was tucked away, hidden from the world.

Newt was the only one who was able to find me.

And when we became friends, it became our spot.

He came here when he felt empty.

It was here he told me his story.

It was here I told him I would always be around to help.

It was here he morned for me.

It was here he found out I wasn’t dead.

———

I heard the footsteps.

I didn’t bother wiping away my tears.

I was angered that someone found this place.

I knew they were looking for me.

I knew I should’ve been angry because I couldn’t carry out with my plan.

I was instead angry that someone had found this place. It was only supposed to be hers and mine. Us only.

I turned to scream, something I rarely did, but it was too much, there was just too much.

And there she was.

Bloody bandage around her abdomen, dark circles under her eyes, and her legs shaky.

But it was her.

This I knew.

We didn’t say anything. We didn’t have too.

Rather, she just walked forwards and kneeled down next to me, wrapping her delicate arms around me, burying her face in my neck.

She was alive.

She had done it.

I was proud, no one had ever done such a thing, but oh god all I could focus on was the fact that she was here, with me, in my arms.

In turn, I wrapped mine around her frame and pulled her closer, holding her tight, without hurting her.

“Hi love.” I whispered, my voice cracking. It was how I woke her up, an accidental slip one morning that became a word of comfort and playfulness between us. I never thought I would get to say those words again, to have to the chance to wake her up again, to hold her to my chest like I do now.

It began quietly, her tears, but they soon escalated, and all I could do was hold her and never let her go.

Her broken sobs finally broke me down, wearing down the wall that was already crumbling, and we sat there crying, holding each other.

I didn’t know how she had done it.

I didn’t know how she had gotten hurt.

I didn’t know what had happened to her.

And yet, for this moment, holding her in my arms was enough.

No one survives a night in the maze.

Except for her.