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(While we're at it, I should mention this book is based off of the maze runner books

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(While we're at it, I should mention this book is based off of the maze runner books. Not movies. You do not need to read the books to understand this, it will all be specified in my story.)

    Newt had came and talked to Teresa, but Thalia wasn't paying attention to them, only noticing how Thomas had slipped away into the Deadheads, an area she had never thought of even entering.

    But she did, because she understood how Thomas was feeling. They were the only people who understood eachother, well, the only difference Thalia could not understand the Maze as well as him.

    You can't blame her, nobody could understand it like Thomas could. She heard Minho even offered for Thomas to be the Keeper of the Runners.

    She skirted the edge of the Glade, then, breaking into a run, she headed for Thomas' place of seclusion behind the Deadhead forest.

   She noticed Thomas crouched in the corner, nestled in the ivy, and how he had thrown his blanket over himself, head and all.

"Seems like you have a hiding place yourself, you know, I do too, actually." Thalia chuckled, noticing how Thomas sighed from under the blanket.

Thomas slowly lowered the blanket, sitting up right up against a tree branch.

Thalia took this as an opportunity to sit next to him, the two even shared a comfortable silence for a bit.

"Shouldn't you be with the med-jacks? With Jeff, Clint?" Thomas' words made Thalia heart hurt a bit, feeling as if Thomas didn't want her to be here with her.

"Shouldn't you be with Minho?" She bit back, a bit bitterly, she wouldn't deny it. Of course Thalia was mad, she had tried to comfort Thomas and he was catching as if she was the one who just woke up from a coma.

He looked at her slowly, before sighing and his gaze averting back to the trees. "Sorry." He said, and Thalia nodded.

"Forgetting about you two was the worst part."

At first, Thalia thought it was another message in her head. But no, it'd been . . . Different. She heard with with her ears. A girls voice.

Teresa stood to their right, leaning against the massive stone wall. She looked so different now, awake and alert—standing.

Wearing a long-sleeved white shirt, blue jeans, and brown shoes, she looked—impossibly—even more striking than when she'd seen her in the coma. Black hair framed the fair skin of her face, with eyes the pure blue of flame.

"Tom, Lia, do you guys really not remember me?" Her voice was soft, a contrast from the crazed, hard sound she'd heard from her after she first arrived, when she'd delivered the message that everything was going to change.

"You mean . . . You remember us?" Thomas asked, and Thalia chuckled at the squeak that escaped on the last word.

"Yes. No. Maybe." She threw her arms up in disgust. "I can't explain it."

FORGE OF OAK, Thomas ✓Where stories live. Discover now