devoid | newt

chapter three

The group takes a halt, we all follow behind the sudden stop.

"In honor of our dear Maria, we won't let you be 'it.' Minho, it's all you." Gally mocks, knocking his hand on the side of Minho's arm.

Minho sighs in dissatisfaction, "Seriously?" He mumbles to himself.

"You count a minute," Gally commands, pointing at Minho, "Run!" He shouts. The group of men began to scatter to the sound of his voice. I follow behind, darting my direction straight to the forest of trees. I lean against a sizable tree trunk, hiding my entire body from the rest of the glade. Huffing, my chest rising up then down as I try to catch my breath. A colossal of trees surround me, filling my vision while they stand tall and dark. I shut my eyes, my breath shaky, attempting to stay silent.

"Maria?" I hear a whisper approach me. I jump slightly to the sound, while my eyelids open. Newt, taking steps closer to me.

"Newt?" I mutter, turning my head to see if there's any bodies near. His eyes stay attached to the lower part of my body as I analyze his features.

"You're bleeding." My heart stops.

"What?" I question, shocked. His gaze meets mine.

"You're bleeding." He repeats, murmuring. His eyes turning back down to my legs. I examine my legs, a large cut stretching across my upper thigh appears in my vision. Slightly gasping, my breath becoming unsteady again. Taking notice of the large cut, I begin to feel the pain sting throughout my left thigh. I place my fingers on the oozing blood and scan it as it links to my fingertips. how could this happen? Curiosity fills my thoughts.

"You need help." Newt blurts. My gaze rips away from my leg, noticing Newt staring at me, barely a foot away from my body.

He lightly grasps my waist, "Follow me." Newt pulls away, walking out of the forest of trees while I follow beside him.

"Yo!" I hear Minho holler in curiosity, running up to us.

"Med-jacks." Newt states vaguely. Minho's glance trails to my left leg and he nods slowly, turning away and running off.

While we approach the med-jack hut I take a seat on a bench, like a makeshift bed. What surrounds me are supplies, things I haven't seen yet. I scan the empty room as Newt comes up to me, a damp cloth and bandaging in hand.

"Did you do this?" He questions, placing the supplies on the bench while his body stills close to mine,

"No? What do you mean?" I ask. He thinks I hurt myself, on purpose. The sickening feeling strikes again, the thing I most feared when I came here.

Newt glances down and doesn't reply, getting his hands on the damp cloth placed beside me. He gently places his left hand on my thigh, away from the wound. My body warms from the electricity of his touch, I stare at his features while he gives his full attention to my thigh. His blonde hair streaking across his forehead, his expressions stay dead focused while his mouth gapes open, jaw clenched. The wetted cloth touches my upper thigh where the wound sits, my leg slightly fidgeting to the touch. He pauses, glancing up at me for a moment, our eyes meeting one another. His gaze returns to the wounds and he continues to dab the blood scattered across my leg.

Newt finishes up the bandaging, both of us stayed silent the entire time, exchanging a few glances every now and then. His left hand sticks to my thigh, his eyes making their way up to mine.

"Are you ok?" Newt furrows his eyebrows. I peer away from him, turning my attention to his chest that stands before me.

"Look at me." He mutters, his hand adjusting further up my thigh. I focused back up at him, watching him scan my every feature.

"I'm fine."

"Stop." His hand adjusts again.

"Newt. I'm fine." I lie, "Right now I'm just managing." I reassure him. Newt doesn't reply, our eyes locked.

"What about you?" I question. This entire time he's been an unbeatable test, a puzzle unable to solve. I just want to hear his voice.

"What?" Newt's eyebrows furrow.

"What's going on?" I question.

"Nothings going on." There it is. Those walls he has built up, he already broke mine, he can't just continue to build on top of his.

"No. Tell me, that's not fair." I argue.

"Don't worry about it." He protests. I stare back at him. I tear our fixed looks apart, back down to his chest. His hand was still grasping my upper thigh.

"Come to my room." Newt blurts. Repeat the question. My eyes snapped up to meet his, his expression deadpanned.

"What?"

"We can talk more. I'm tired." His monotoned accent rings in my ears. The strength he holds over me, and he knows it. I glance behind me out a miniature window to notice the sun is out of view, the dark sky raging throughout the glade. I turn back to him, he lets go of my leg, stepping away from the bench.

I hop off and follow him out the hut, into the night. That subtle breezing brushing against my loose top.

Before we walk into the keepers hut, Newt stops, turning to face me.

"You need to be quiet." He breathes, staring at me. I lock eye contact with him, complying and staying dead silent as Newt sluggishly creaks the makeshift door wide open.

We enter Newt's supposed room. The only light source is the moonlight shining through a miniscule window punched through the rickety wooden walls. A large messy cot lays in the corner of the room. Newt shuffles to the cot, rubbing his forehead. Groaning, he let his body recline on the cot.

"Come here." He murmurs. Stop. I comply, attempting to think not much of it. I take a seat next to his lying body, leaning against the wooden walls. Newt's breaths were minor, the entire room was dead silent and hearing his frequent huffs was captivating.

"Are you scared?" I whisper, breaking the wall of silence. I hear the shuffles of him turning to my direction.

"No." Newt mutters flatly. I keep my gaze to the wall that stands tall not far in front of me, peering down at my hands.

"Why won't you tell me anything?" I question, still eyeing my fingers.

"I don't have to." oh.

Followed by a long minute he lets out a soft breath, "Maria-" Newt pauses. I turn my attention to him, looking at him in the eyes. We lock eyes for a moment, his unsteady breath unable to form a word. I observe his features, the worry written in his eyes every moment he speaks to me. His jaw clenched, eyebrows close together attempting to conjure up something.

Eventually he turns away, glimpsing up at the roof of the room. "You should sleep." Newt finishes.

I glance away, rustling my body into a flat position. I shut my eyelids, turning my head to Newt's direction, silently shuffling to stay comfortable. The music of breeze flowing through the crack in Newt's room fills my ears, his unsteady breaths echo throughout the room, comforting me.

Long breathy minutes pass. Suddenly, I felt the sensation of Newt's fingertips find their way to my scalp, his hands ascending their way through my soft hair. My heart drops, gaping my mouth open as my breath weakens. He's running his hands through my hair. I can feel his faint breath against my face while my eyes stay glued shut. Why does he have to do this to me? I nudge my head subtly closer to him, showing him my comfort. His hand rests in my hair strands, a soft sigh leaving his lips. I feel his body adjust closer to mine, my breath now becoming unsteady. With his strong grip, now protective and kind resting in my hair, his body merely inches from mine, my vision and thoughts come to a rest.