❛ And isn't it just so pretty to think
All along there was some
Invisible string
Tying you to me? ❜
°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･
↳ 𝐈𝐍 𝐖𝐇𝐈𝐂𝐇 ...
Lucy clings to the hope that someone will come to save them all.
(( Thomas X Fem!OC ))
(( TMR movi...
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LUCY ༄
The three of us pull on the vine, every muscle in our bodies straining as we haul Alby higher up the wall. It's dark now, and everything seems so different. I've run the Maze a million times, but everything feels stranger. My breath comes in ragged gasps, my arms burning from the effort, but we keep pulling, desperate to get Alby secured.
Suddenly, a high-pitched screech echoes through the Maze. Minho's grip on the vine falters, and I catch him glancing down the path, his face draining of color.
"Minho, what the hell are you doing?" Thomas's voice trembles with a mix of panic and frustration, his eyes darting between Minho and Alby.
Minho doesn't answer. He stands frozen, transfixed by the growing snarls that creep closer. My pulse quickens as I glance over at him—his eyes are wide, glazed with fear.
"Minho!" I snap, trying to shake him back to reality. I tug hard on the vine, nearly losing my footing in the process.
Minho finally breaks free from his trance, turning toward us with sheer terror written all over his face. "We gotta go, we gotta go," he whispers, his voice tight, trembling.
"No, no, no!" Thomas protests, pulling harder on the vine.
But Minho shakes his head, panic taking over. "We gotta go!" He pulls on the vine once more but is already retreating into his own fear.
"Minho, just a little higher! We're almost there!" I grit out through clenched teeth, yanking on the vine with every ounce of strength I have. My arms ache.
"Stay with us, Minho!" Thomas grunts. "Just a little more, we're almost there."
The snarls grow louder, closer, and Minho's fear reaches a breaking point. His eyes meet mine, an apology lurking in them—before he whispers, "I'm sorry." And just like that, he lets go of the vine and bolts down the pathway.
"Minho!" Thomas screams, but his voice is swallowed by the sound of metal legs scraping against the stone. The sudden loss of Minho's help sends both of us stumbling backward, the vine slipping through our hands. Alby drops, and for a moment, I lose my grip.
I barely catch myself, but Thomas's hands are already trembling, his knuckles white from gripping the vine too tightly. "Pull harder!" I shout, my voice rising in desperation as Alby's weight drags us closer to the wall.
"What do you think I'm doing?" Thomas grits out, his voice strained.
I can hear it now, the clattering of metal against stone, the sound of a Griever approaching. Every instinct in me screams to run, but my legs won't move.
"Go! Under there!" Thomas suddenly hisses, his eyes darting to a small gap at the base of the wall, hidden by thick vines. Without waiting for me to respond, he drops to the ground, his hands still clinging to the vine as he crawls into the narrow space.
