Aris Jones X Reader One Shots

A Different Maze (Part 3)

I had spent the last few days running for my life yet again. Apparently, the people that rescued us were WCKD themselves. Now we're out, and it's a wreck. I actually fought a crank to shove it off Newt. Then, there was that thing with Winston. Needless to say we weren't having a very good time here.

I did notice something new besides all the negatives though. The more we walked the more I got the feeling of nostalgia around Aris. There's no explanation for it.

I also noticed he refuses to let anybody touch the hand with the writing on it. It's to the point where he will physically slap your hand away if you try. Minho made that mistake to wake him up. Nobody else even attempted when they saw the red mark. He guards that writing with his life.

There was one other thing about it. When he thought everyone was asleep I saw him stay up for what seemed like hours carefully tracing his fingers over each letter. A lot of mornings his eyes would be red and puffy. We never said anything about it.

That morning I woke up in a cold sweat. There was a new emotion that I couldn't describe. It was almost as if I was grieving someone and relieved at the same time. After realizing no amount of tossing or turning was helping I gave up. I manuvured my way around everyone sleeping to just walk for a bit. There was just this gut feeling that something was happening. It didn't feel wrong, but it didn't feel right.

As I was quietly pacing a good few feet away I heard something move. I spun on my heel with my fists raised in case it was someone dangerous. That seemed to be an instinct I was born with.

It wasn't anyone close to dangerous though. Standing there was a startled Aris. As always his eyes had that look of hopelessness in them. I know nobody has asked, but for some reason I felt the need to talk to him.

"Hi,"I quietly greeted. His eyes glanced down at something. I followed them to see him looking at the writing on his hand.

"Is that from her?"I asked, not knowing if saying the name when referring to her was a good idea.

"Yeah. Before she left that day she wrote it. Just for reassurance. She did that every morning in the same black marker,"He said, his voice having a bittersweet feel to it.

"She sounds sweet."

"Yeah. She is,"He mumbled.

A heavy silence hung over us that I didn't want to hear. Something about it felt deeply troubling.

"Do you want to sit?"I asked softly. He looked up at me with something I hadn't seen before.

"Yeah,"He nodded. I leaned back against an old building, and he joined me, with each step seeming to weigh him down. He hesitantly sat next to me. He looked completely frozen once he did, almost like he wasn't even breathing.

"You miss her,"I stated. He shut his eyes and nodded his head.

"So much more than she could ever know,"He whispered.

"What did it feel like? To love someone like that?"I asked softly.

"Better than any feeling you can imagine. It's as if everything in the world was brighter, better, happier. It's not something you know until it happens to you."

"What about her? What was she like?"

I watched as the ghost of a smile found its ways to his lips.

"Determined. Anything she put her mind to she does. She's kind and loyal. Loyal to the point where it could almost be a weakness. The people she loves come first. She's intimidating when she wants to be. Not just physically. She'll make you drop your guard so easily. She did that the first time she came in the box. She actually put a knife to my throat. She made herself appear scared and helpless when she saw everyone else. Then, she ran for the Maze."