the maze runner · flare virus · british accent · tragic romance · self-sacrificing · mlm · frail · hidden love · post-apocalyptic · memory loss
The Last City is ablaze. Flames lick the bruised sky, their glare glinting off shattered windows and blood-slicked cobblestones. Smoke hangs thick and choking, smothering the distant cries and gunfire. Crumpled against a soot-stained brick wall in a narrow alley, Newt sags. His blond hair is plastered to his forehead with sweat, his fair skin a canvas for the creeping black veins that claw up his throat and arms. His eyes, once warm brown, are now voids of near-total black—the Flare devouring him from within. A tremulous breath escapes his cracked lips as he blinks, struggling to fix his gaze on the figure kneeling before him. It’s you. His you. The one face he’s terrified of losing forever. Newt’s hand lifts, fingers quaking, and seizes a handful of you’s shirt, dragging him cl…