Everywhere, Everything ◆ Thomas ◆ TMR

004 - Grievers and Headless Chicken

She learnt something new on her very first night in the glade.

Boys snore.

She was a light sleeper.

If someone wanted to attack her in her sleep, they'd never get the chance.

Newt was pinned to the ground, groaning in pain against her knee between his shoulder blades. He had been trying to wake her up, putting a hand over her mouth so she wouldn't scream and wake the others. She had a distinct feeling he would never do that again.

She lifted herself off him hastily, apologizing over and over in a low voice. Newts face was contorted in pain as he turned around on his back, his chest moving rapidly with his breaths. His eyes were screwed shut.

"Okay, yup. Note to self; don't wake up Greenie Two when she's asleep." He sat up slowly, covered by the dark shadow of dawn.

"Are you okay?" She asked, grimacing.

"Uh-huh," he nodded, a slight edge to his voice as he stood. "Yeah, never better. Everyone needs a nice and deep massage occasionally, don't they?" He pressed his hand to his chest. "I've heard it's good for the lungs to be stretched once in a while."

"I'm sorry," she said again.

He shook his head. "Don't worry about it." He brushed off his pants and looked around to see if anyone had woken up from the disturbance, but no one had lifted their head. Not even Chuck, who let out a very deep snore. "So, ready for a griever show?"

As she nodded her agreement, Newt started walking. She wove around the sleeping bodies, careful not to bump into anyone. When she was finally out of danger, Newt was simply standing there, clearly having been waiting. His face was full of amusement.

She rolled her eyes and gestured for him to continue walking, making him throw his hands up in surrender. He started jogging lightly, either because he wanted to get it over with, or because he was racing against the sun. Either way, she noticed a slight limp in his steps, even in the darkness. The way he favored putting the weigh on his left foot, instead of the right.

She frowned. "Did you hurt yourself last night?"

"No," he answered, slowing down in favor of looking at her curiously. "Why?"

"You're limping," she stated carefully, watching his face change the second the words left her lips.

She'd noticed a lot of things about him, in her short time of knowing him. His facial expressions always transitioned carefully, like the gentle stroke of a coming breeze. But this time, it was more like a lightning strike. He looked peaceful one second and lost in the next with a sour turn of his mouth that he tried to keep steady. She was quickly learning that she was a natural observer, and this was a question not to be asked.

"Right, yeah." He was silent for a few seconds. "You're right, must've been when Minho pushed me." He simply shrugged it off and kept walking, and she had the sense not to ask further. Not even when they arrived at their destination had he completely shrugged it off yet. It created a dark, dark pit of guilt and embarrassment in her stomach to have even asked.

He proudly patted the western wall with a smile that was not completely genuine.

Even though she stood in front of it, much the same way the day before, it seemed taller still, like it was growing every night. Her heart pounded in a way that made her think she had a fear of heights. But then; who wouldn't be scared if they stood at the top of that thing?

"Ready?" He asked and lifted the heavy armor of wild vines the wall had shielded itself with. With the green ivy peeled back, there was just a lone window, staring straight out into the maze. The only thing to see, was more ivy-covered walls. It felt quite anticlimactic as everything looked just the same on the inside as on the outside. She didn't really know what she'd been expecting, really. But the way her breath caught in ready surprise seemed pointless as a minute dragged on, simply staring at a wall.