Her

[8]

Reluctantly he stood, shivering like he was on the cusp of breaking...which he was pretty sure he was. 

Blood stained his hands, his face, his soul. 

'Could I have saved her?' 

That's all he wanted to know. 

That's all he cared about knowing. 

As you would if you just watched the only person you cared about die in front of you.

 He had set fire to the world around him trying to save them but never let a flame touch her and still he had lost her.

 He couldn't tear his eyes from the only girl he's ever loved. As much as he hated to admit it, she had never seemed more like herself or who she was meant to be till her dying moments. That made him feel...something...in his void of emotion. 

He needed to find the others.

 It felt like he was dying, every time he closed his eyes all he could see was her. His breathing was heavy and uncertain, he just wanted to be with her.

 He eyed the metal blade resting in her chest, contemplating his next move. 

He had tried before, why shouldn't he do it again this time?

 Except the others found him first, hoping for an explanation. Newt responded to their muted questions by pushing past them. She wasn't supposed to be dead. 

But she was. 

Thomas want supposed to follow him. 

But he did. 

"Newt...we need to talk about her." He said cautiously. 

"What is there to say? She gave up!" He cried. "She left me." 

"She had the flare, there wasn't anything you could have done-"

"EVERYTHING! There was everything I could have done to save her."

Thomas didn't know what to say to that so he left Newt to place his shaking hands into the pockets of guard uniform they had stolen.

 As the blonde turned to walk away he found a folded piece of pale paper resting in between his fingers. How did that get there? He opened it confused but his knees buckled the second he saw the mess of fresh black ink scrawled across the page. 

He wanted to scream and rip the letter up but he knew he had to read it. 

If not for him then for her.