The Scorching Heat

19

He was reluctant to say yes, as expected, but then again a yes was a yes. Maybe behind that vacant facade, he was happy to be with you. Or at least you hoped he was.

The wind has picked up, sending sand shooting onto your face. You pulled your scarf upwards, squinting as the two of you looked for shelter.

It was almost perfect that the sandstorm had hit now, however annoying it was. It gave you cover.

But it also meant you'd have to move quickly.

In five or so minutes, you wouldn't be able to see the person next to you, let alone scout out places to stay for a while.

Newt had realised this too. You watched his eyes desperately scan the plane, seemingly looking everywhere except beside him, where you were. He wouldn't look at you. Why?

You'd lost sight of the others now. You had no idea where they had disappeared to and whether you'd manage to meet all of them the next morning. It was a scary thought that it might have been the last time you'd seen Minho or Thomas. And it was an even scarier thought for Newt, who'd clearly known them for as long as he could remember.

"Look," Newt finally spoke, "Under that roof."

Newt had pointed at what looked like a fallen piece of scrap metal. It had a slight opening, about a meter wide, then it sloped down into the sand. Bricks and rubble had fallen on either side, securing it from the ferocity of the storm.

It was a tight space, but it would be the best you were going to get.

You would've made a comment, either sarcastic or even flirtatious. But you weren't sure if Newt would have wanted that now, especially due to his sudden mood change. You were worried about him, but at least you were with him. You'd help him in any way you could.

You slung your backpack from your shoulder and crawled in, sighing in relief as you felt the anger of the storm lessen as you burrowed yourself further into the space. Newt slid in beside you, carefully adjusting his bad leg into position.

You sat there for a while in silence, listening to the sand hit onto the metal repetitively, causing tinny rattle inside your crevice. Neither of you said anything.

Newt had clearly tried to put some space between you and him but had failed. It was too cramped for that. Eventually he gave up, apologising for being so close.

You gave him a smile, reassuring him that he had no reason to apologise.

Newt sighed.

"No," He said, "I do."

You frowned, looking at him with a confused expression on your face. He no longer held the anger that he previously expressed, only sorrow and guilt.

He slowly leant back, lifting his arm and rolling up his sleeve to his shoulder, gradually peeling off the bandage.

"Because of this," He finished, gritting his teeth and staring at the rot below.

His veins had transformed into black snakes, slithering up his arms. There was no way of telling how long it'd take before they'd take the rest of his body. His wound spilled with darkness, skin blistering and flaking.

Your eyes widened. You were speechless.

"You can't tell anyone." He said grimly.

"Why?" You pleaded, "We need to tell them, so we can speed this up. You need the cure."

He looked away.

"No, Y/n. Don't you see? If we go there, they will kill you, like you said. They have wanted to all along. I understand why you came with us, and that was to stop any more deaths and I know that. But I just can't have you dying for me."

When he finally looked at you, you could see the tears brimming in his eyes.

"Look," He finished, "One of us will have to die however this ends, which is why we should end this now, before it begins."

You knew what he was talking about, and it made your heart shatter. You could never be with him, and you understood that. There was no way to keep him alive with you. So you'd have to die for him. You'd have to tell Thomas. He'd understand.

"I know what you're thinking Y/n." He said, "And I'm not letting you. Please, if you are really my friend then just let this happen."

You couldn't do this anymore.

You looked at him, raw emotion was spilling from his face. His eyes darkened with sorrow and his face empty, devoid of hope. But in there, you could see what he really wanted, and so did you.

Slowly you leant in. And he didn't move away. You kissed him gently. It was exactly as you'd imagined.

"Y/n." He mumbled through your lips.

"I'm sorry." You said, pulling away, "I had to."

"I know." A glimmer of a smile flickered over his face.

He wrapped his good arm around you and turned towards you, pulling you into his grasp.

You shut your eyes, breathing him in as you drifted into sleep, listening to the gradual rise and fall of his chest.

How could you ever live without him?

A/n-
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