My next victim |~NEWTMAS FANFIC~|

"Hi Tommy."

||NEWTS POV||

So bloody stupid! Newt yelled at himself in his head.

It was stupid, letting Tommy see him. Yes of course he wanted to be beside the boy all hours of the day again, only be apart when he does some stupid, ridiculous thing like running into the bloody maze.

But if Tommy saw him, and he knew it was him, he'd probably tell Minho. He already almost did the night he heard him outside his window.

And Newt had seen the way Minho had been acting, his face permanently painted with anxiety.

It hurt Newt to see his best friend like that, he wanted to tell him he was okay, hug the boy, tell him that he was going to be okay.

But he couldn't. It would ruin everything. His entire plan; hiding from all his old friends, keeping himself a secret. After everything he's heard, how these people talk about him, and if anyone found out Newt was alive? Theres no doubt they'd kill him themselves.

Newt was sitting on the ground with his back against Tommy's hut, the sun had started setting, finally.

All he could think about was Tommy, if he had told Minho, Chuck, Gally, anyone, that he was alive, he'd be fucked.

No. Newt thought. Tommy's smarter than that, right? He would've thought that through, he always does! Then his face dropped.

Thomas?

Thinking?

Yeah right!

That boy always fucks something up, something as simple as spelling his name! But that's why Newt loved him, no matter how much he's messed up, ruined things, got people killed, he never quit, he kept going no matter how many times he failed.

Even though at some points it would've been better if he did quit, but it's the the thought that counts.

Love? Newt thought.

Did he love him?  Is that what Tommy was to him? Is that what he felt towards the brunette, love?

Love.

Newt smiled to himself and laid down on the hard ground beneath him. His body was pressed against the hut's wall, he took a deep breath and thought of Tommy.

Then he sat up again, he had only one other thing on his mind, one thing he couldn't sleep without know it was done.

He stood and quietly walked out from behind Thomas's hut, towards the roaring fire with two people sitting around it, the only two still outside their huts.

The two Newt heard talking about Tommy earlier.

With the sun having finally fully set, only darkness devouring their so called safe haven, he reached to his side and grabbed a knife that he had stuck in his belt. He felt the cold wood of the handle as he wrapped his fingers around it.

The familiar touch of wood gave him Deja-Vu of when he pulled the same knife from his chest.

||THOMAS'S POV||

The entire day Thomas couldn't stop thinking about Newt, whether he actually saw him behind his hut or if he was just insane.

He didn't dare say anything to Minho though, if it was Newt— If he had somehow survived a goddamn knife to his chest— if Thomas told Minho, it would fix the broken boy, Newt would glue him back together.

But Minho would probably let something slip on accident, and then everyone would hunt for Newt, and if they found him? There's no doubt they'd kill him themselves.