Gladers choice | TMR | Thomas | Minho

Chapter Twenty

Lyra wandered into the Deadheads, her mind a whirlwind of thoughts and emotions. The dense canopy above offered a cool respite from the oppressive heat of the Glade. She needed some space, some time to process everything that had happened. As she moved through the shadows, she nearly stumbled over Thomas, who was sitting against a tree, looking lost in his thoughts.

He looked up at her approach, a weak smile forming on his lips. The sight of him, so different from the confident and determined boy she had seen earlier, tugged at her heart. "We really need to stop meeting like this," he joked, though the humor didn't quite reach his eyes.

Lyra managed a small, nervous laugh, rolling her eyes. "Yeah, no kidding." She hesitated, then added, "Sorry, I didn't mean to intrude. I'll leave you be."

But Thomas shook his head and patted the spot next to him. "You can stay. It's nice to have some company."

Lyra bit her lip, then slowly sat down beside him. The silence stretched out between them, heavy with unspoken fears and uncertainties. She couldn't bring herself to look him in the eyes, the nerves from their earlier closeness still lingering.

Thomas broke the silence, his voice soft but concerned. "Are you okay with Minho? You two seemed... tense earlier."

Lyra nodded, her fingers tracing patterns in the dirt. "Yeah, we patched things up. It's just... complicated. We've been through a lot together."

Thomas nodded in understanding. "I get that. It's hard to stay mad when your life is on the line."

Lyra chuckled softly, though it lacked real humor. "Yeah, kind of puts things in perspective."

They sat in silence for a while longer, the weight of their situation pressing down on them. Lyra's mind raced with thoughts about the potential Gathering, the fear of what might happen next.

"Thomas," she began tentatively, "I think they're going to hold a Gathering. About us. I'm scared."

Thomas looked at her, his expression still tinged with that same sadness. "We'll face it, Lyra. Whatever happens, we'll face it together."

Seeing the lingering sadness in his eyes, Lyra felt a sudden urge to distract him, to lift his spirits somehow. "Come on," she said, standing up and reaching out her hand to him. "Follow me."

Thomas looked up, confused. "Where are we going?"

"Just trust me," she said, a mischievous glint in her eye.

He hesitated, then took her hand and stood up. She led him deeper into the woods, the thick underbrush and twisted roots making the path difficult to navigate. Thomas, confused but curious, joked nervously, "Are you planning to kidnap me?"

Lyra glanced back at him, a serious look on her face. "Yes," she said, deadpan, making Thomas's eyes widen in surprise. Then she cracked a smile. "Kidding. Sort of."

Lyra led Thomas deeper into the woods, the thick canopy of leaves overhead casting dappled shadows on the forest floor. The underbrush rustled softly underfoot, and the air was filled with the earthy scent of moss and pine. As they ventured further, the noise of the Glade faded away, replaced by the gentle sounds of nature.

After weaving through the dense foliage, they reached a secluded area covered by trees, bushes, and dangling vines. Lyra pushed the vines aside, revealing a hidden clearing bathed in the soft, filtered light of the late afternoon sun. "This is my little sanctuary," she said proudly, stepping into the open space. "No one's found it yet."

Thomas looked around, clearly impressed. The area was like a secret haven, with targets set up against trees and a makeshift archery range. Various ropes and training equipment were neatly arranged in one corner. "Wow," he said, his eyes wide with admiration. "You've got quite the setup here."