The Concept of Thominewt

Angsty Oneshot - 1

THOMINEWT

  Newt's eyes lifted to look at the doors of the maze. A couple hours left. He could wait.

— —

It hurt, each and everyday of his life. He distracted himself with work. But he only had so much to do. And so, he waited. He could only ever wait.

— —

I have died everyday waiting for you...

He sat quietly beneath the darkness of the trees, away from the rest of the Gladers. He hated feeling like this. A loneliness that has and will always bite at him.

It's ridiculous, he'd tell himself.

But... when life was hell... they were the only two he loved.

Love.

Newt wasn't sure he even knew what the term meant. But when he saw them running back to the Glade, suddenly he knew again. They were love.

The teen laughed weakly, a smile crossing his face, despite the hot tears that he couldn't stop from rolling down his cheeks.

"Bloody hell..."

— —

He stood in front of the doors like he did every evening, waiting for them to return.

Minho and Thomas.

Love.

He smiled when he saw them sprinting towards him.

Newt didn't even notice the tears falling until he saw the concerned faces of his two closest friends getting closer to him.

Friends.

"That's all they'll ever be," Newt mumbled, smile fading. He turned away from them and ran. He could only hope they wouldn't follow.

As he got further into the dreariness and shelter of the woods, he collapsed.

Cursing, he curled up into a ball, his tears seeming endless. Everything hurt. Emotionally and physically.

"Damn leg," he uttered, starting to hate himself even more.

He didn't hear them approach. Or maybe he didn't want to. Either way, he visibly jumped when he heard Minho's stern, yet kind voice.

"Newt?"

Newt didn't dare move.

However, he couldn't ignore the strong hand in his hair. Minho.

Or Thomas, who sat close beside him, hand almost touching Newt's, but not quite.

"...Newt?" Thomas spoke this time, his voice was shaky. Newt immediately felt guilty for making him worry.

Reluctantly, he sat up, head down in attempt to conceal the tears. But nothing could get past him.

"You're crying," Thomas gasped and Minho took hold of Newt's arm.

Naturally, Newt would've rolled his eyes and said something sarcastic, but he could barely open his mouth to speak due to the choking sobs that escaped him. Shaking his head vigorously, he buried his face in his dirty hands, unable to stop himself from screaming and gasping and crying.

Strong arms encircled him.

They stayed there for what seemed like hours, until Newt's uncontrollable bawling calmed down.

"Newt... talk to us," Minho whispered, and Newt felt the other teen's hand rubbing his back comfortingly.

Taking a few deep breaths, Newt choked, but this time no tears fell.

"Everyday. Every bloody day I wait," his voice cracked and was hoarse from crying, "I wait for you shanks. I regret surviving in this hell. I hate it here. Every... every bloody day becomes worse than the last!" Newt yelled, his fists clenched.

All Newt heard was a sharp intake of breath, then he gripped his bad leg tightly, "This... a reminder... a reminder that my only escape failed. And that I can never do it again."

The two stayed silent after Newt's outburst, trying to offer comfort with tender hugs.

A couple minutes passed until Newt spoke again, "It's because of you two."

"W-What?" Thomas questioned.

Newt sighed, "I love you... I think."

Their lack of response hurt like a knife to the stomach.

"Newt," Minho then spoke softer than he ever had before, "Everyday we run in that maze. Looking for a way to escape. An escape that'll keep us together. And every time you cross my mind. Because I don't know what I'd do without you," Minho laughed, but Newt could tell it was only to keep from crying, "I don't want to see you hurt yourself anymore."

Newt's eyes widened with mixed emotions, "Wha-?"

Thomas spoke this time, "Maybe you don't notice, but your arms are red from scratching. Newt, we hate seeing you like this. We... we love you too."

Newt stared down at his red, scratched up arms. He hadn't noticed. He hadn't noticed he was hurting himself. Or the two people who mattered most.

"I... I'm so sorry," he whimpered, overwhelmed and emotional.

Maybe... life was worth surviving after all.

— —

The following day, Newt didn't cry. He smiled.

He delighted in the fact that they were coming back. That they promised they would. And they always did.

Everyday.

And everyday he limped towards them, his only reminder being that he survived for a reason. And he didn't regret it anymore.

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a/n so this is the outcome of my sudden tmr obsession, hope you enjoyed :)