Afflicted↠ Newt [1]

Chapter 4.

The sound of burning embers echoed throughout the night air. I sat with my back leaning against a fallen log, the smell of wet, rotting wood filling my nose. I listened to the boys' amused cheers a little ways behind me. I had soon gotten tired of the looks the boys were giving me, and I eventually isolated myself from everyone, which is why I was currently sitting alone, staring out over the Glade.
Crickets chrips off in the distance, which was strange. I didn't know there were crickets here. The sky was starless, which made me feel utterly alone.
A low, rumbling sound echoed throughout the night, coming from deep within the Maze. Newt made it seem as if everyone should be terrified of the Maze, but I could only feel a burning curiosity towards its towering stone walls and winding paths. I knew nothing about it, but I fet like I knew everything about it. As if I had run every inch of it.
"Hell of a day, love?" a familiar, accented voice brought me out of my daze. I hadn't even realized Newt had approached me as he took a seat next to me, holding a jar filled to the brim with some mysterious liquid.
"It was okay, I guess," I shrugged. I could feel his eyes burning into the side of my head, though I didn't meet his gaze.
"Better not hope for any better days," he said, a hint of sadness in his accented voice. "They won't get any better."
Silence took over us after that. It wasn't exactly an awkward silence, more of a comfortable one, and I was thankful for that. I stared out over the Glade, a sigh escaping my lips. Beside me, Newt focused on the ground, drawing little designs in the dirt with his free hand. I watched as his fingers twirled in the dirt, a small smile finding its way on to my face. I looked up at him; he was too busy watching the ground to notice me staring at him, thankfully.
He took a sip of whatever it was in the jar, and I took I scrunched up my nose.
"What is that?"
Newt looked at the mysterious brown liquid for a moment, then shrugged, "I don't even know. Gally made it." He let out a small, breathy laugh before continuing. "I guess you could call me buggin' stupid for drinking it. I'll probably drop dead tomorrow."
"Well, it looks likes someone took a crap in a jar and mixed it with water," a small laugh escaped my lips at my attempt to lighten the mood.
Newt chuckled and took another sip of the drink. His nose scrunched up in disgust as he swallowed, and I couldn't help but find it cute as he gagged slightly.
"To be bloody honest, it tastes like it, too," he said and turned to me, handing me the jar. "Want some?"
"Are you serious? You just told me it tastes like crap and now you're offering some to me?" I scoffed and pushed away the jar, causing some of the mysterious liquid to splash out and land on the small patch of dirt between us. I suddenly realized how close we were.
"Hey, I was only tryin' to be polite," Newt raised his hands in surrender and laughed. He seemed oblivious to the little amount of space between us. Either that, or he just didn't care.
"Well, no thank you, Newt," I managed to laugh. "I think I'll pass on that one."
"If I weren't so bloody thirsty, I would too," Newt agreed as he took another sip.
"Is that all we have to drink?" A wave of panic rushed through me at the thought of actually having no choice but to drink the stuff.
"No," Newt chuckled lightly. "We have water, but we like to save it. The bastards who put us here were kind enough to give us running water." He handed me the jar once again. "Come on. Put some hair on your chest and try some."
"Last time I checked," I pushed the jar away once more. "I was a girl, and not supposed to have hair on my chest."
Newt locked his gaze with mine, and batted his eyelashes, "Please, for me?"
I rolled my eyes and took the jar from him. It took all I had in me not to laugh at his childish behavior.
"You owe me for this," I grumbled before taking a quick swig on the drink. Newt was 100% right, it did taste like shit in a jar. The liquid burned my throat as I swallowed, causing me to gag. I coughed, covering my mouth with my hands.
"That was horrible," I choked out. "Why'd you make me do that?"
Newt was rolling on the ground in laughter, holding his chest. He sat up, wiping an imaginary tear from his eye before he spoke, "You're reaction was the best yet."
I narrowed my eyes at him, "I hate you."
"Don't say that," he said in a sing-song voice, leaning into me slightly. "No you don't."
I opened my mouth to make a sarcastic remark, but stopped as I began to hear the sound of stone of stone, coming from deep within the Maze.
"What is that?" I asked him.
"It's the Maze," Newt shrugged it off as if it weren't a big of deal. Maybe it wasn't, to him, but it was to me. I was curious. "Changing. It changes every night. That's why it's so buggin' hard to get out of this damn place."
"If it changes every night, then why do you bother mapping it?" I pressed, itching to know the answers. That's what I liked about Newt, he was always willing to answer my questions. Even if they weren't the most detailed answers, at least he tried to help. And I appreciated it.
"I really shouldn't be telling you this," Newt said, rather hesitantly, but then shrugged it off. "It's a sequence. Repeats itself every week or so."
"If you shouldn't be telling me this, then why do you?" I asked with a hint of amusement in my voice.
"Because I know I can trust you." Newt's face suddenly became serious as his eyes met mine. "Do you trust me?"
His question caught me by surprise, and it took me a moment to process it. Did I trust him? I had only just met him the day before, so why should I? Though it was something about him, whether it was his good looks or his calm personality, that made me trust him.
"Yes," I answered, my voice small.
A small smile formed on Newt's lips, and it looked as if he were leaning in slightly.
"I'm glad you do," his voice was barely more than a whisper. I didn't know what it was- whether it was the darkness or the enviorment, but this all felt strangely familiar. As I gazed at Newt, recognization flood over me, yet I didn't know why. It was just something it, about him, that made it seem as if I knew him from somewhere. I just didn't know where.
"Hey, guys!" Minho's voice interrupted my thoughts as he took a seat on the ground in front of us. I pulled my gaze away from Newt's, feeling a blush creep on to my face as I turned to Minho.
"Was I interrupting something?" he raised his eyebrows and wriggled them, a hint of teasing in his voice.
"Slim it, you slint-head," Newt muttered, though amusement laced his voice. Minho rolled his eyes and shifted so that he was sitting cross-legged. I couldn't help the laugh that fell from my lips- he reminded me of a little school-girl.
"Why are you laughing?" Minho furrowed his brows and looked at me as if I'd grown two heads. "Impressed?" He lifted his right arm and flexed his bicep, making it seem even more buff than they already were.
"You wish," I muttered, rolling my eyes.
"Stop showing off, Minho," Newt chuckled, throwing his now empty jar towards the boy.
"You're just jealous because I have what you don't, Newtie," Minho said and smirked.
"I'm just lighter built than you are," Newt protested. "I have just as much muscle as you do."
I couldn't help but laugh at the two boys as they argued.
Minho narrowed his eyes like they do in one of those Wild West Showdowns- a cloudy memory of my past.
"Prove it."