hold me close, but not too close~newtmas

Chapter 5: Out Of Here

Thomas fell asleep with Minho's arms wrapped around him. He'd burned himself into exhaustion from crying, the tears cascading down his cheeks like heavy rainfall. His throat still ached from their supply run and, as expected, his breakdown had only worsened it.

He was groggy as he woke, eyelids heavy and voice scratched. His back was pressed against Minho's chest and he was both too comfy to move and too scared to wake his sleeping friend. He lay there, enclosed in warmth, and fighting off every sudden memory of the aforementioned breakdown.

If Minho hadn't stirred awake at that precise moment, Thomas would have been buried under the rubble of unwanted recollections as they crashed into him.

"Hey," Minho whispered. "You alright?"

Thomas opened his mouth to reply but instantly decided against it, knowing it would damage his voice further. Instead, he gave a gentle nod.

"I know you won't want to talk about it right now," began Minho, carefully choosing his next words, "but I think we should. Later, I mean. After the council meeting."

The council meeting...which Thomas had forgotten about. He wanted to sarcastically thank Minho for reminding him but an abrupt knock on the cabin door interrupted him.

Minho grumbled a "come in," keeping his voice low. Frypan entered, half hiding himself behind the door. Neither Thomas or Minho moved; their friends had found them asleep together on numerous occasions and, thankfully, they were mature enough not to pipe up with a disparaging remark. Not that they thought anything of it, anyway – they understood that Thomas needed comfort most nights and Minho was the most apt to give it to him.

It was hard to imagine Gally sharing his bed with anyone else, let alone permit Thomas to nestle himself into an awkward embrace.

"The meeting's starting in five," Frypan said. "Can I get you anything?"

"Just water please, Fry," Minho said.

Frypan nodded, "sure, I'll meet you in the Council Hall."

Their Council Hall was much like the one they'd had in the Glade, but this time it featured a large, circular table and wooden chairs. Thomas stepped down from his role as leader when they arrived at the Safe Haven and put Vince in his place instead. Second-in-command hadn't felt like an appropriate title, either, so he passed that one to Minho, and settled for third-in-command (if there was such a thing).

Thomas was still widely respected by the residents at the Safe Haven. He couldn't completely disappear from authority, knowing it would make him look apathetic in a 'well-I've-got-you-this-far-that's-my-job-done' sort of way. So, he stayed, edged to the side slightly but not enough to paint him as powerless.

He could be intimidating if he tried.

"We have to get up," Minho spoke from behind, his breath ghosting the back of Thomas' neck.

Thomas pushed himself up, rubbing the sleep his eyes with the heel of his hand. Minho followed suit, positioning himself beside Thomas, playfully knocking his shoulders against the shorter boy in attempt to crack a smile.

He was rewarded with a tired grin and a huff. They laced their shoes in silence, and Thomas pulled on his jacket, feeling a chill in the air as the day was drawing to a close. Time hadn't existed for years, nor had dates or days, really, but they could estimate by the sun and the weather. Cold weather and days with limited sunlight equalled winter, which was what they were entering, judging by the waning daylight of recent.

"Ready?" Minho asked gingerly.

Thomas nodded, working his jaw as he prepared his words. "I want to talk about him," he said, his voice hoarse and painful. "And you deserve to, as well. I'm sorry it's taken me this long to realise that."