In The Maze ➸Newt x Reader

5

guys, i actually wanted to just thank you SOOO much. A couple mornings ago i woke up with 236 reads, and now im at 469!! Its just so askdjehkwhaj wow you are all so nice and leave such nice comments and it makes me so happy 😊 thank you so much!
But on another notice, lets continue the story!

》》》(hola, editing 2021 author here, damn, if only I saw myself now! we're at 700k reads holy shit, my dudes, you're all so amazing!!!)

Y/N POV

》》》status: edited, 03-22-21《《《

I felt like I couldn't open my eyes- it was such a strange sensation. I was conscious and could hear and feel everything, but I could not move my body. I was trapped within my own mind. It was terrifying being unable to move while feeling so alive, and I just wondered if this was a dream; if it was something I kept making up in my mind.

The maze must've been fake, this was all a dream. It's not real, Newt isn't real, Thomas isn't real, greivers don't exist.

Although I told myself over and over that this was some strange version of my reality, and that I was just stuck in whatever bed in wherever I used to live with whoever my parents are- there was a constant sensation that I felt throughout each passing moment. Someone's hand was in my own, and despite lacking the capability to open my eyes, I automatically knew who's it was. The constant touch brought my thoughts back to ones of reality, and It kept reminding me that the situation I was in was very real.

I knew the hand belonged to Newt, because day after day, I heard people call him to come and eat, and to go do his job; but he would refuse and never let go of my hand. I heard his thick British accent ring through my ears- and it just wasn't fair. It wasn't fair that I couldn't just wake up and embrace him. I desired to hug him, after experiencing however many days with his presence since the accident.

Another person also visited, but often when Newts grasp on my own was limp, and I could tell he was asleep. He often whispered reassuring things, and he too held my hand, always stroking my skin with his rough and calloused fingers.

》》》

"Newt seriously man, it's already been two weeks. You've barely eaten and you're getting weak." I heard Thomas say and there was some movement. I assume it was another chair being brought up beside Newt.

"I'm not leaving until she wakes up." Newt hiccuped, exhaustion and stress lingering through his tone.

"I don't even understand why you're so stuck on being with her. Do you like her or something?" Thomas mumbled, sighing as he sat down.

Newt was silent in response for a moment before chirping back, "Do you like her? I'm not stupid Thomas, I know you visit her almost every night too you shuck-faced idiot."

Thomas scoffed, "she needs to be supported."

"Yea, and here I am, waiting every single fucking second for her to open her eyes- ready to support her," Newts voice cracked slightly, and there was another moment of silence.

"You need to stop feeling guilty," Thomas whispered.

Newt didn't respond.

Thomas continued, "How do you think I feel? If I didn't insist on being a runner and following Minho after barely being here myself, things could have played out differently. Maybe Y/N wouldn't have gotten hurt."

Newt still didn't respond.

"Fine, say nothing then." Thomas said annoyed, the chair screeching against the stone floor, "I'll go get your ass something to eat.. and you better eat it Newt."