If Only You Understood

(Read after The Death Cure)

Was it too much to ask?
Just an ounce of reciprocation?

A mere wish his hands could never grasp, no matter how desperate they became. Always a second too late, catching handfuls of empty air. And that oh-so-familiar pity.
He despised pity.

If only Thomas understood.

...

"Dear Newt,

I know for a fact this has to be the first letter I've ever written because no one writes letters anymore. Well, no one but you. You're the only person classic enough to write one. And of course, now, me. But you're the only one that would and could get me to write a letter. Because you're, well, you I guess..."

He paused, sucking in a breath through his chapped lips. His fingers fidgeted when the pen for a second before he decided to stop rambling and do as originally planned.
Tell Newt what he actually felt, because he had done the same.

Disclaimer: I do not own any of these characters, they belong to James Dashner.