The Glade | Newt x Reader

Chapter Twenty-Five

-Y/N's POV-

I run through the doors with my fake emtions in tow. My heart is still thumping but I ignore the nerves. 

"Hey," Newt smiles as he walks up. He is sweating from the sun and has soil littering his face and hair from a long day in the gardens. I can't help but feel it makes him look even more attractive.

"How was your run?" He asks.

I laugh nervously, "You ask that everyday."

"I know... okay. How are you then?" 

"Fine, good," I say probably too quickly. Pretending to be overheated, I wipe my brow as an excuse to look at the ground, away from his eyes. 

"Okay.. Well, do you want to see how your old garden is coming along?" 

"Yes.. no," I shake my head, "I'm going to go map out my run." I can't trust myself to not slip up if I'm with him. 

"Doesn't Dominic do that?" Newt gestures to the boy who finally caught up to me and walked into the glade.

"Not today," I say back and walk quickly away to the map room. I can feel Newt watching me as I walk but don't dare turn around. I haven't decided if I should tell him or not. If I do, Newt may get hurt, and would definitely tell Alby. Any of the choices that involve telling someone would get Dominic banished, which I honestly wouldn't mind. And even though every part of me hates Dominic right now, I'm not sure I have the stomach to know I had played a part in someone's death. Especially when I remember how nice Dominic was to me when he first arrived. He ate lunch with me and I never expected he of all people would do what he did. I decide to brush it off for now. I just don't like keeping something from Newt.

When I get to the map room I meet Minho who is also keeping track of his run. He merely looks up when I come in and grunts a hello. I bend down and begin to write down every turn I had taken throughout the maze. I have to push hard for the dull pencil to make any mark along the rough parchment. Minho glances over my shoulder every once in awhile.

"Can't you write any neater? I have to read that later," Minho comments.

"Oh shut up," I give him a little shove. "Atleast it's better than Dominic's."

Minho gives a sly nod as he walks out, "Fine okay. It's a LITTLE better."

I snort and finish scratching my run into the paper. After I slide it into the folders of each run, I think about how long they've been trying to find a way out. It hurts my head to try and think of how many times they've mapped the maze and found nothing. I'm about to reach for the files to look through them, when there's a knock at the door.

Newt stands there and I wonder how long he was watching. "Aren't you coming to dinner?"

I hesitate for a second but decide to save the detective work for later. I wouldn't be able to find anything anyways, I'm sure they've looked through them thousands of times.

"Yep," I answer. We walk silently to the tables. I have a feeling he already thinks somethings up.

When we sit down with our food, everyone is exchanging stories from their days. Dominic is looking at me so I cast him a revolted glance before I sit down. I pick at my food and listen to everyone's conversations, not really sure what to say if someone asks about my day. I hear Jeff and Clint talking about one of their medjack stories.

"So I'm sure you all heard about Paul and his finger right?" Clint asks.

Everyone at the table nods. I turn to look back at poor Paul who's sitting at a back table with some slicers. His hand is all bandaged and he looks solemnly at his chicken leg which he can't properly pick up now. 

"Well, it turns out he actually cut his finger days before he came to us-," Jeff said in an annoyed tone. "-just didn't want to 'bother us' with his injury."

"Now it's all infected because he left it thinking it would heal on it's own," Clint says.

"When will the dumb shank realize it's our job to fix all of y'all's cuts and bruises?" Jeff shakes his head.

"Anyways, the point is. Never leave something in the dark like that, or else it just gets worse and worse the longer you keep it to yourself," Clint says pointedly as he lifts some salad to his mouth.

I almost choke on my carrot. I know there's no way Clint could know about what Dominic did, and how I'm keeping it to myself, but I feel guilty nonetheless. I suddenly don't have an appetite anymore when I remember Dominic's lips on mine. 

I stand up from where I'm sitting beside Newt by the table. 

"I have to use the washroom," I clear my throat.           

Newt gives me a confused look that I can tell is slowly turning to concern. But I turn and walk away before he can say anything. Of course I don't actually have to use the washroom, I just needed an excuse to leave the table. When I reach the washrooms I enter a stall and lean against the wall. The rough-walled thin rooms provide a nice escape to hide from any glader's prying eyes. It is, of course, a bathroom stall. So it does have a rough hole on the ground for the designated toilet. 

I pace in the small space. I don't know why I'm getting so worked up. I take a deep breath. I'm better than this. Don't let Dominic scare you. He can't hurt you. You're stronger than him. But these things I'm telling myself feel hollow. I'm not stronger than him. Not when I remember how he held me against the wall. He can hurt me; I run a finger along my jaw to the soft spotted bruise where he hit me. I'm letting him scare me when I should not be. I take my sweaty hand from my face and wipe it along my pants. No, I can't let him scare me. I'll fight back if I have to. But I don't think he would try anything again, or atleast I hope not.

I freeze when a soft knock raps at the stall door. 

"Come out, Y/N. Tell me what's wrong," Newt's voice sounds worried from the other side of the door.

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A/N: chapter 26 is out now toooo.....