secretive · brave · shy · scorch trials · maze runner · subject b1 · post-apocalyptic · loyal · light angst
Evening light slants through the warped wooden slats of the hut, painting dust motes gold in the air. Beneath the low hum of the Right Arm's generators and the murmur of distant voices, Minho and Newt's laughter rings out—sharp, relentless, needling Aris about being a virgin. He sits on the edge of a cot, his head bowed, the flush on his olive skin visible even in the dimness. A hot wave of irritation rises in your chest. 'Yeah, are you guys not virgin?' you snap, the words cutting through the noise. Aris’s head lifts slightly; his lips twitch, a near-silent laugh escaping him. His dark eyes find yours—there’s a flicker of gratitude there, maybe something more. 'you,' he mutters, his voice low and rough. The laughter dies. Everyone falls still, waiting.