"can't stop staring at your ocean eyes"
ocean eyes, billie eilish
—Isa's POV:
My name is Isadora, but they all called me Isa, so now Aris does too. The little nickname's actually grown on me over the years, Isadora's always been a pain in the ass to say anyway.
As the fourth person to arrive in our maze through the box, I had survived within our little prison for little more than two years. I became the leader of our healers, handling the vital job along with two others—Erika and Gracie.
Gracie, in particular, holds a special place in my heart: my first friend, partner-in-crime, the only person who ever truly listened— and the girl who sacrificed herself to save me.
Even now her ghost often haunts my dreams, a cruel reminder of my broken promise. I find myself lying awake in my stiff bunk every night, forcing my mind to fight the allure of sleep, knowing that I would only wake up drenched in sweat as I watch the bloody claw of a Griever plunging into Gracie's frail body over and over.
But enough talk of nightmares. Food first.
"Morning Isa," I see Aris raise his head in acknowledgment as I drag my feet to our usual table, rubbing my wrists subconsciously with the pads of my fingers. I merely grumble in response, my muscles aching after an especially fitful night of sleep.
"You look rested," he comments dryly.
"Fuck off Aris," I mutter under my breath exasperatedly. He only raises an eyebrow in response, silently studying my face for another second before shrugging and turning back to his food.
It's almost normal to me now, how I hardly get any sleep most nights. Almost. The horrors of the maze continue to plague my mind, more than I like admit, even weeks after we escaped the maze and after they all left.
Rachel, Erika, Hannah, Sarah— they were all gone after the first few weeks. Harriet and Sonya disappeared soon after, eventually just leaving Aris and I from our maze.
According to the ratface, Jackson or Jason or whatever his name is, those who are called are now off to a better place, but I can't help but doubt it. Honestly, he just gives off a strange vibe. I can tell he's a creep just by looking at his smug smirk.
I've told Aris so, multiple times, and to my surprise he actually agrees. It's not a rare occurrence for me to complain about the creep during our otherwise silent meals, but every time I bring up the subject I notice that Aris can't seem to meet my eye. Out of awkwardness or guilt I don't know, but I do find it a little odd.
Speak of the fucking devil. Ratface walks in just as I start digging into my breakfast, evidently to announce the new list of names. My ears barely register his insufferably nasally voice as he reads off the names, automatically droning out his words as usual. It's all routine, anyway. The bastard does it every week.
By now, Aris and I have practically accepted the fact that we aren't going to be chosen, after all these weeks of eating together at our own little table with no one but each other for company. It's lonely, but at least I have one person I can talk to.
I'm grateful to him, in a way, and inwardly plead everyday that I won't hear his name called. I know it's selfish, but I can't help the fear of being left alone here.
Eventually Ratface finishes his little routine, assuring the rest of us that our time will come soon. I scoff quietly to myself at the familiar words, my fingers itching to hit something.
He's so full of shit. I should really just punch him in the face one of these days. I'm not usually this violent, I swear, but something about him just pisses the living hell out of me.
Aris nudges me then, nodding in amusement towards a fight that just broke out between a few of the guards and a new group of boys around our age.
One boy in particular seemed to have caused the scuffle, yelling obnoxiously loud at the guards about some girl named Teresa as his friends scramble to tug him away.
I merely shrug, getting right back into eating. Again, food comes first—I can muse about the weird new group of boys later. I do have priorities, after all.
Aris, on the other hand, seems to be entranced by the new group. I contemplate him for a brief moment as he starts to mumble under his breath about something being different about them, knowing that he usually couldn't care less about new people. But soon enough, Ratface breaks the fight up and the newbies grab their food, sitting down at the table across from us.
A long sigh leaves my lips as I settle in for another mundane day, already feeling sleepy from my lack of sleep last night. My bored eyes drift mindlessly around the cafeteria to land on the new group of boys, sizing each of them up until my eyes suddenly lock into another pair.
My breath catches as I hold his gaze, and my heart skips a beat. Big brown eyes, the most beautiful shade I've ever seen, stare back curiously into mine. I'm frozen by his gaze, feeling an unfamiliar sensation of butterflies fluttering low in my stomach. Something itches in the back of my brain, my brow furrowing slightly in confusion.
I know those eyes.
An amused chuckle from Aris finally rips my gaze from the new boy, interrupting my train of thought.
"It's rude to stare at strangers, you know." A faint smirk laces his features as he takes a small bite of mashed potatoes, subsequently wincing in disgust.
"I wasn't staring. That guy just feels kind of familiar to me, that's all," I reply defensively, shooting him an exasperated glance.
He watches me in amusement, leaning back comfortably in his chair. "Mm, really? You sure it's not because you think he's cute or something?"
I make a face at him, retorting back quickly. "Absolutely not—I thought you knew my type better than that, Aris. What's gotten into you today, anyways? You're being especially snarky."
Though now that I get a proper look at him, the boy is kinda cute. Blonde hair, a lean frame, an easy smile. And his eyes. God, I swear I could stare at those brown eyes forever.
Aris shrugs, a small smile playing on his lips as he returns to his cornbread. "Just a good feeling."
I search his face for a moment, before shrugging and turning back to my food as well. Aris has always been a pretty private guy, with the exception of Rachel of course. I've learned by now that I can't just pull the truth from him if he wants to keep something secret.
I pick at my potatoes sullenly. Never in a million years would I have thought that I would miss being trapped in the maze, but at least then I had a job and friends to keep me occupied. Here, the horribly repetitive routine from day to day is more tiring than I ever could have imagined.
Aris seems to feel the same. We exchange daily banter and small talk, but I can see the bags under his eyes growing darker each day. He's not getting any more sleep than I am, and this unhealthy lifestyle isn't doing him any good.
Even so, I can't help but sneak a few more glances at the brown-eyed boy every now and then. Can you blame me really? He's the most interesting thing that's happened to me in ages. And maybe I'm being delusional, but it feels like his gaze keeps flicking back to me as well.
Not to mention, I can't stop thinking about his brown eyes. My eyes keep finding his without meaning to, like our gazes were meant to meet.
Why do those eyes feel so familiar?
Author's Note:
Hey everyone!! Welcome to my new fic, starring the one and only Newt from the Maze Runner. It's been a while since I've written here, but I've recently relapsed into my maze runner phase. It's honestly unhealthy at this point. Anyways, this fic is purely self-indulgent so there will probably be a few plot holes here and there, and some things may not be accurate to the books or movies so please bear with me (ex. I know group b also have their own slang, but for the sake of this fic they won't. Only because I find it to be too confusing with the group A slang). Let me know if you guys have any questions, I hope you all enjoyed this first chapter :)
Love you all!! <333
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pretty eyes ~ newt
Fanfiction❝how are you real?❞ ❝i'm real, isa. and i'm yours.❞ ─── ・ 。゚☆: *.☽ .* :☆゚. ─── Her name is Isadora. The leader of the healers in Group B, and the fourth arrival to a maze of teenage girls. She's fairly straightforward, unafraid to speak her mind or...