Him (Newt x Reader)

Chapter 9: "Right?"

After the mess with Gally and helping an unconscious Thomas to the medical hut, or from what I've recently learned, the Med-Jack Hut, the rest of us scattered and found time for ourselves. Gally and his minions haven't been seen since the incident, but I think most of us could care less about them right now. We all need a break from everything, it was an eventful night.

Currently, I'm sitting atop the Glade tower, watching the sun lay among the walls as it slowly makes it way to the peak of the sky. I figured I would take this time to relax, letting my feet dangle off the tower and placing my arms on one of the branches that's making a fence, resting my head on my arms and letting my mind wander into my deepest thoughts.

I keep replaying the griever scene in my head; wondering who that voice belongs to, if she actually knows me, and how she knew the power of that word. With those questions alone, I also can't help but think about Gally and his accusations against the three of us. Truthfully, it hurt me a lot. Hearing him say everything made me question a lot of things and realize that one question will probably go on forever without answer, and that's if I actually worked for WICKED.

"Mind if I come up?" A familiar British accent appears from below me, I look down from the tower to see Newt staring up at me. "Go ahead, I don't mind." I say back to him. While Newt makes his way up the tower, I scoot back to the tree holding it up and make myself comfortable, I know that he and I will be talking for awhile, probably at least.

"Hello!" Newt beams as he pops from the hatch and climbs through it. "You're surprisingly happy!" I return with a laugh, "What's that supposed to mean?" He asks and takes a seat next to me, I immediately notice the close proximity. "Well, considering the most recent events I would've assumed for you to be in a mood. Especially since you appear alone and not with Minho or anyone else."

Newt glances over the Glade and smiles, "Is that not what you're doing? We all need some time to ourselves here and there, plus neither of us are alone anymore." He nudges my side and somehow scoots even closer to me, "I guess you're right." I chuckle.

For a minute or two, we both sit in silence, casually enjoying each other's company. As crazy as it sounds, I feel safe with Newt, and perhaps feel closer to him than anyone else I've met here. It almost feels like I've known him forever, and maybe I have, before the Glade. However, these thoughts don't last for long as I begin to wonder why he even came up here, why he was looking for me in the first place.

"Newt, why did you come up here?" I ask while changing my tone, letting him know that this is a serious question. He doesn't answer and furrows his brows, averting his eyes away and I suddenly let my fears slip out.

"You think I worked for them, don't you?" His eyes suddenly widen, "What? No, Y/n I could never think of that! Whatever Gally said has no meaning to me, I just wanted to make sure that you were alright after everything." I sigh, "But everything includes what Gally said, am I not right?"

Newt looks away and covers his mouth with his hand, carefully deciding on his next few words and what the outcome may be. "I had a feeling about that being brought up." He says, facing me again. "But truthfully, I just wanted to see how you were doing, even if that does mean talking about everything. From the griever to Gally, I want to be here for you and make sure that you're okay."

My heart flutters at his words, signaling the butterflies in my stomach to flutter as well. I want to be honest with him, I want to tell him everything. The sudden urge to just rant for hours on end is so welcoming because I know he'll be here for everything, all of it. Listening to me with such intent that I don't ever have to worry about his loyalty, and yet I have to ask.

"Newt, can I trust you?" I question him, and he seems confused for a moment. "Did you not already trust me?" He wonders with furrowed brows, and I immediately regret my choice of words. Trust means something to the Gladers, I have to remember that.