Migraine➛ Newt X Thomas

►1

3rd Person's pov

'Im dying...' Newt internally grunted.

The second Newt opened his eyes, he immediately wanted to squeeze them shut and close off the maze around him. He could hear the morning bickering of Gladers as they strolled around preparing for breakfast- but he didn't care, all he could focus on was the overwhelming headache that seemed to rattle his skull with every small movement. His head was pounding, and the noises weren't helping in the slightest.

Newt groaned, squinting his eyes open carefully, before instantly closing them and flinging his blanket over his head. The light was torturous; it's bright beams, making the poor boy feel dizzy and nauseous just by gazing around the place.

'I've got work to do,' Newt continuously reminded himself, but he couldn't find the energy to sit himself up properly and begin the day like normal. He could almost imagine the disapproving look Alby would have plastered on his face when seeing the blonde - his second in command out of commission over a minor headache.

That and the fact he knew Minho would end up laughing his ass off seeing him so weak made Newt internally groan and wish for sleep to consume him again.

But no, he wasn't going down without a fight, so he hoisted himself quickly up out of bed and sluggishly trudged his way around, getting himself ready for the day ahead. The majority of the other Gladers were up and moving about the place, as energetic as ever, to start the day. But even so, Newt could practically hear Chuck's vain attempts at waking Thomas up from within the Homestead. He knew the first chore on his list to complete was to ensure everyone was awake and ready to work, so, at a slow pace, Newt wandered his way outside.

Minho was already eating breakfast, happily joking about as usual. Alby was surprisingly one of the many Gladers speaking with the runner. An odd pair considering Alby's low patience and Minho's ability to talk a person's ear off. Newt rolled his eyes, instantly regretting it as his head throbbed, his brows creasing at the pain. He could sense the other Gladers eyes on him but brushed it off with a slight wave towards Minho, who was continuously attempting to gain his attention.

He limped his way gradually towards the small portion of sleeping bags that were still scattered outside. The majority of them were left empty. However, there was the odd one still wishing to be lulled back to sleep and forget the day ahead. And just as he suspected, Thomas was one of them out like a light, and from the looks of it, he had no intention of waking up. Chuck sat idly beside the other, lightly nudging the older teens' shoulder in hopes of waking him up soon, but his hopes were crushed by the reality that Thomas was still fast asleep. Newt tiredly smiled, crouching down beside Thomas. "The shank still not up?"

Chuck scoffed, "The idiot refuses to move. The klunk-head has no motivation to get up whatsoever." Newt could believe that Thomas was always a deep sleeper, that mixed with his hatred of mornings made waking him up mission impossible. "Thought so, Chuck grab'me a cup of water will ya?" The boy nodded before jogging towards Frypan's kitchen; Newt stayed watching Thomas shift slightly in his sleep. Thomas was cute, the blonde couldn't deny it - and focusing on the other almost allowed Newt to forget about the increasing pain shooting through his head.

Almost.

"Here you go." Newt looked up slightly, nodding in thanks when Chuck passed him the cup. "Step back a bit." He ordered before slowly pouring the water onto the tired runners face. In an instant, Thomas shot up from his peaceful slumber, sputtering and wiping the excess water off of his face. "WHAT THE HELL NEWT!!" He spat, shoving the blonde back in annoyance; his yells made Newt's ears ring, and a wave of dizziness came crashing down on him. However, Newt quickly recovered before the brunette noticed. "Good morning, t'you too sunshine, you're late for breakfast."