The Deadheads loomed ominously before her, casting long shadows that seemed to dance with malevolent intent. Lyra's heart pounded in her chest as she ventured deeper into the gloom, her senses alert for any sign of danger.
Suddenly, a movement caught her eye – Thomas, chasing after something with a fervor that bordered on desperation. With a sigh, Lyra resolved to keep a close eye on him. There was something about Thomas, something linked to the new girl, that demanded her attention. And as she plunged deeper into the darkness of the Deadheads, Lyra knew that the truth lay hidden amidst the shadows, waiting to be revealed.
As Thomas ventured deeper into the Deadheads, Lyra followed in silence, her footsteps light and cautious as she trailed behind him. She couldn't help but suppress a laugh at his fascination with the beetle blades, those ridiculous creations of the Creators meant to watch over them.
Thomas's focus was unwavering as he delved further into the woods, eventually stumbling upon the graveyard with its makeshift markers. Lyra observed as he approached one marker positioned beside a plastic-covered grave, through which half of a rotting body was visible.
His attention was absorbed by the gruesome sight and Lyra accidentally stepped on a fallen branch, causing him to turn sharply towards her. His eyes narrowed with suspicion as he questioned her presence. "What're you doing here?" he demanded, his voice laced with suspicion.
Lyra, not one to back down, shot back with equal force. "What does it look like? Following you," she retorted, her tone dripping with sarcasm.
Thomas's frustration boiled over into anger as he turned back to the grave. "You're always following, aren't you? Can't you just leave me alone for once?" he snapped, his voice tinged with irritation.
Lyra's temper flared at his accusation. "Maybe I wouldn't have to if you weren't always getting into trouble," she shot back, her tone defiant.
Their words hung heavy in the air, each one a barb that stoked the flames of their disagreement. Accusations flew back and forth, each one fueling the fire of their argument until they were both consumed by frustration and anger.
"Why do you hate me so much, Lyra?" Thomas's voice was laced with hurt, his brows furrowed in confusion as he sought answers from the girl before him.
Lyra's eyes blazed with intensity as she shot back, her words dripping with disdain. "Because you don't belong here, Thomas. You never have."
Thomas's expression shifted, a mixture of disbelief and hurt crossing his features. "What do you mean, I don't belong here?"
Lyra rolled her eyes, frustration bubbling to the surface. "You just don't get it, do you? You're not cut out for this life. You don't understand the risks, the sacrifices we have to make every day just to survive."
Thomas bristled at her words, his temper flaring. "And what about you, Lyra? You act like you've got it all figured out, but you're just as lost as the rest of us."
Her nostrils flared with anger, her voice rising in pitch. "At least I know where I stand! I don't go causing chaos in the Glade without even knowing what I'm doing!"
Thomas's jaw clenched, his gaze hardening as he met her fiery glare. "I don't even know what I'm doing here. None of us do. Not even you."
Lyra scoffed, shaking her head in disbelief. "You're a fool, Thomas. A reckless, clueless fool."
Their argument reached a fever pitch, the air crackling with tension as they stood locked in a battle of wills. Neither willing to back down, they clashed with a ferocity that threatened to consume them both.
YOU ARE READING
Gladers choice | TMR | Thomas | Minho
RomanceWithin the confines of a mysterious maze, Lyra finds herself entangled in a web of emotions between two gladers, Minho and the mysterious Greenie, Thomas. As their paths intertwine amidst the maze's challenges, she grapples with conflicting feelings...