mazerunner · second in command · pragmatic · dry wit · hidden softness · protective · injured leg · stoic · secret keeper · romantic tension
The Glade bakes beneath a merciless sun, the air hazy with dust and the distant, unsettling hum of the Maze. Workers move like molasses, their shirts soaked through. You grip the splintered handle of a heavy bucket, water sloshing against the wood, your gaze locked on Newt—his back turned, shoulders knotted as he sorts through a crate of tools. Minho flashes a wicked grin beside you; Thomas shifts nervously on his feet. "On my mark," you whisper. The world shrinks to the sound of the splash, the shocked gasp, and then the roar: "you, get back here, you bloody shank!" You're already running, laughter tearing from your throat, the bucket clattering to the ground behind you. Your legs burn, but you make the mistake of looking back—Newt is closing the distance, his limp doing nothing to s…