𝐔𝐍𝐓𝐀𝐌𝐄𝐃 ➤ Maze Runner AU

𝟢𝟤𝟣，𝐫𝐞𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐜𝐞𝐝 𝐫𝐨𝐨𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐭𝐞

There's only one good thing about being in this cold, uncomfortable shack.

Newt won't have to spend his night here.

He would have, if I didn't take the blame.

I for some reason got enough confidence to step in, then this happens.

Basically, Noelle was giving her usual comments. I've began to dislike her. I have her a chance, but I don't think this friendship is gonna be it. Newt kept on mumbling some mean things, and she eventually heard. But she didn't say anything about it at first.

I tried not to interfere and continue eating. As always, my hands shook. They always do. Then she suddenly was super close and her fingers kept brushing over my leg and I could smell her perfume, and I started sweating everywhere, and the shake in my hand increased. I dropped my glass. It didn't break, but the water was spilled.

Important note: the sweat was an uncomfortable sweat, not hot sweat because I enjoyed her touch.

Newt got pissed when he noticed. Like... really pissed. I got up to put my plate away, but she told me that 'it was okay, and that she'd solve her problems with Newt and that I didn't have to walk off, because a fight wouldn't break out and I didn't have to worry' or something like that.

Then Fry calmed the situation down and I eventually zoned out, wondering what Lelia was be doing at that moment. My plate was still in my hands. Noelle shook my out of my thoughts with some hard laughs and touched my shoulders. I startled at all the sudden sounds and touch around me, dropped the plate, and it shattered.

Newt started yelling at her. She started yelling at him. I had no idea what to do— it felt like my windpipe blocked not only my words, but also my air, and then Barkley stormed closer.

I got in action, jumped between Newt and Noelle, and acted as if it was me she was fighting with.

For some reason, she went along.

Now we're here, and she's chuckling at how ridiculous the situation actually is after she apologized for arguing with Newt.

She said she saw I was uncomfortable because 'he was so close'. Isn't it weird that your friend is gay and from the same gender? Like, aren't you afraid he's in love with you and he will your ruin friendship? I remember her asking. Then she continued talking while I hadn't even replied.

I was uncomfortable because she was close. I'm rather uncomfortable at the thought that she's technically the same as Newt: they both fall in love with boys. The chance that she's in love with me is just as high as the chance as Newt is, basically. You get what I mean.

So I could've told her that I might as well be uncomfortable with her presence, which I am, but I didn't. Because I'm a wimp.

"Lyndon!" Her hand swipes in front of my eyes. For like the millionth time since I've met her. And she laughs. "The way I have to snap you out of your thoughts every time!"

Newt only stops me from zoning out when he wants to tell me something important, or when something important is going on and I am meant to see it, but trailed off. I like how he just lets me do my thing most of the time.

"—and your eyes have that cute look when you're in deep thoughts—"

Okay, good to know. I've thought about Newt's eyes and face and how he's pretty cute, and I've wondered what would happen if I told him that, but now that she says something close it, I've decided to never ever say something like that.

Ever.

"—don't you think?"

I give some kind of head movement, then look around.

The Shack literally is a shack. I think if I lean against the wall a little too hard, it will fall. The bed has weird, itchy sheets and whenever Noelle makes a little jump as she talks, it squeaks. I can barely call it a bed. More like a cot.

Other than that, there isn't much. Barkley locked the door so we can't get out, but there is an old phone we can use to call if something serious happens.

There's a mini window, but it's so dirty that I can barely see the trees that surround us. There is no light.

I don't like it. I've slept without a light for the past week and a half, but I've felt safer around Newt than this girl, and this is also in the middle of the woods.

And as I mentioned before, I did feel a bit trapped with Newt (less since we scooted the mattresses together), but if Newt was comfortable, I wouldn't mind feeling trapped. I'm not sure if I have the same rules for this girl.

"Lyndonnn." Another hand swipe. "Are you alright? I'm sorry I talk so much, it must be boring— it is. And I'm sorry you have to spend the night here only because you were nice enough to sacrifice yourself for that idiot—"

Suddenly, there is a lot of anger that needs to get out. "Newt isn't an idiot!" I almost jump up from this wooden chair. "He's the kindest person I've ever met!"

"Okay, sorry." She snickers. I scowl a bit, and she chuckles even louder. "Sorry," she repeats. "You're just adorable while you're angry."

It's official, I don't like her.

But Dad always used to say that you never know what someone is going through, so I'll just remain calm. Like always.

Okay, remaining calm is just in my personality, but alright.

"Wanna play a game or something?"

"There's no games here," I say.

I hope she takes the hint.

She doesn't. "We can play a... vocal game. Truth or dare?"

"I hate that."

"Never have I ever?"

"No, thanks."

"Two truths and a lie?"

"I think I'm just going to rest. I'm tired."

"Okay. Just go ahead and claim the bed. I'll be perfectly fine here," she mutters, getting off the bed.

Part of me wants to say 'good idea' because it is her fault we're here. Newt would've said that.

But of course, I can't. "No. You take the bed. I'll be fine here."

"Are you sure?" She looks up. "Don't change your mind!" A laugh. "I don't want to wake up with you suddenly cuddling me!"

I end up just closing my eyes as I lean against the wall with my head, attempting to tune all the sounds of the woods and the squeaking bed and Noelle's voice out. I just want this to be over as soon as possible. This place is so small and I don't want to miss Lelia this long. I want to know what she did that caused her to be in trouble again.

"Are your eyes actually closed?"

At the louder question, they open, and she lets out a scream. "Lyndon! Oh my God!"

I close them as fast I opened them, taken aback because she suddenly had taken her shirt off. How could I have known?

"You were looking!"

"I didn't know—"

"You must've been looking the whole time!"

"What? No," I defend. "Why would I—"

"Never mind," she tells me.

Sigh.