First Person P.O.V
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I lied there day on day, just miserable. Although even that was an understatement of the year. Aris came to visit, along with the trio that consisted on Thomas, Minho, and Newt.
They didn't know. I just said I was sick. Maybe a flu. I didn't want them to worry and I wasn't sure who else wasn't immune. I couldn't do that to them. Break their little hearts. For God's sake, we're out in the middle of nowhere. The last thing I want is to rot in the sand.
Mary had injected me with what was the experiment. We didn't know much about it. Some "patients" of hers got worse. Some got mildly better. The stakes were low.
I rolled onto my side. The makeshift foldout bed was okay. Better than blankets over rocks. My body ached. At this point, my pallor was like a sheet of paper. Thin and dull.
A hand touched my shoulder and I looked up, only lifting my head slightly.
"Jones," I greeted weakly, doing my best to put on a happy face. I couldn't. I sat up, using the strength from my arms.
"Y/N," Aris said, his voice quiet. "You don't look too good."
"No, really?" I asked, my tone sarcastic. I watched his eyes, his movements. Every breath that was taken shakily.
He tentatively put his hand on my cheek, sucking in the deep breath before leaning in.
He was my first. That I can remember at the very least. His lips connected to mine and suddenly I understood what piece was missing.
It was him. He was the missing piece.
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Quiet Ones//Aris Jones X Fem!Reader//
Fanfiction·Quiet ·qui·et ·ˈkwīət/ noun 1. absence of noise or bustle; silence; calm. "the ringing of the telephone shattered the early morning quiet." --- "What could you possibly know about love? The only person you've kissed is Thomas." "I know that you li...
