He couldn't believe it - couldn't believe his luck. It was too good to be true. He was finally safe with mist of his friends and was about to get the cure for a disease. They had just been rescued from a horrible storm and terrifying monsters. He was refreshed and full of food. Newt sighed with relief. But there was also a lot of pain in his heart and he couldn't dream of loosing anyone else. He ended up sitting on a couch that ran along the narrow middle section of the Berg, a vast room full of mismatched drab-colored furniture. Newt sat near to Thomas (whom he'd dubbed Tommy, although for some reason, Thomas wouldn't let anyone else call him that) to keep an eye on him and his aching heart. After all, Tommy had become like a brother to him.
Thomas had been avoiding Teresa, but she came over and sat next to him. It seemed she didn't get Tommy's hint that all male Gladers' feelings towards her consisted of a range of extreme dislike to utter hate. This made Newt want to punch her lights out all the more, despite his morals and principles. He still had a hard time being near her, a hard time talking to her or anyone else. His insides burned with turmoil at the thought of what she had done to Tommy. He didn't interfere, but he would if anything escalated, and required his presence. When Tommy and Teresa were done speaking, he finally relaxed. It seemed that he would not need to interfere after all. Full, not happy, but mostly at peace, he felt himself slipping into sweet unconsciousness. If Newt had known that it would be the last full, relaxing night of sleep he'd get, he would have tried to enjoy it a bit more.
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Critique it... Comment by all means... I'd love to know what you think. Also, don't worry, this isn't the end of the story. There's more to come.
