Gladers choice | TMR | Thomas | Minho

Chapter Twenty Four

Newt guided Thomas and Lyra towards the Pit, the air heavy with unspoken words. Lyra kept her head down, her lips pressed tightly together, not peeping a single word. Her silence made Newt glance at her more than once, confusion evident in his furrowed brow. Thomas, too, kept stealing glances at her, his curiosity piqued by her unusual quietness.

"We're here," Newt finally said, his voice breaking the tense silence. He stopped in front of the Pit, a dark, foreboding hole in the ground surrounded by sturdy wooden bars.

Lyra felt a shiver run down her spine as she stared into the Pit. It was a place meant for punishment, isolation, and contemplation. The last thing she wanted was to be confined in such a place, especially now, with her mind swirling with so many conflicting thoughts and emotions.

"Listen up," Newt began, his tone serious but not unkind. "The plan was to put you both in separate cells, but considering the circumstances, I think it's better if you're together. Might make the day go by faster."

Lyra felt a flicker of gratitude towards Newt for his consideration, but it was quickly overshadowed by the awkwardness she felt being so close to Thomas. The recent dream had stirred something within her, a realization that she and Thomas had a past, a connection she couldn't fully remember but felt intensely.

Thomas nodded, his gaze shifting from Newt to Lyra. "Thanks, Newt," he said quietly, his eyes searching Lyra's face for any sign of her thoughts.

Newt, oblivious to the undercurrents of emotion, continued, "Just behave yourselves and try not to kill each other. You'll be out by nightfall." He gestured towards the Pit, indicating they should jump in.

Lyra took a deep breath and approached the edge of the Pit, her heart pounding. She glanced at Thomas, who gave her a small, reassuring nod before jumping in first. She followed suit, landing softly beside him.

Newt secured the rope on the bars, ensuring they were safely enclosed but not entirely cut off from the Glade. He looked down at them, his expression a mixture of concern and authority. "You two hang tight. I'll be back to get you later." His footsteps echoed in the Glade as he walked away, leaving Lyra and Thomas alone.

The silence stretched between them, thick and heavy. Lyra's mind was a whirlwind of thoughts—Alby's transformation, her own fragmented memories, and the dream that felt too real. She wrapped her arms around herself, trying to make sense of it all.

Thomas leaned against the wall, his posture relaxed but his eyes alert, studying Lyra. "We're in this together, you know," he said, breaking the silence. "No matter what."

Lyra gave a small nod, but remained silent, her thoughts too jumbled to articulate. Thomas sighed, his concern for her evident, but he respected her need for space.

As they sat in the Pit, the minutes dragged on, the quiet only broken by the occasional sounds from the Glade above. Lyra's mind continued to replay the dream, the vividness of it, the closeness she felt with Thomas. She wondered why these memories were surfacing now, months after her sting, and what it all meant.

Thomas eventually sat down beside her, leaving a respectful distance between them. He didn't press her for conversation, instead opting to sit in companionable silence, offering his support in the simplest way.

Lyra appreciated his presence, even if she couldn't voice it. The weight of her thoughts was heavy, but having Thomas near made it slightly more bearable. As the sun climbed higher, casting shadows into the Pit, she couldn't shake the feeling that today was just the beginning of something much bigger, a turning point in their tangled fates.

** **

After a while, Lyra broke the silence, needing a distraction from the oppressive thoughts swirling in her mind. "So," she began, her voice slightly strained, "are you excited to be a Runner?" The silence between them had grown awkward, and she desperately needed a break from her thoughts.