Written in Stardust - Thomas, TMR

006

The two boys swam in the same emotions, and they knew the others felt it too. Newt opened his pained eyes slightly, seeing Minho and Aris trying to calm down Frypan. Frypan sat in the sand with Minho's hands on his shoulders. The blond haired boy saw the cook trying to swat Minho away, but it wasn't working.

And suddenly, Newt wished he was back in the glade. Back when he had everyone with him, his family. Not by blood, but by actions. The blond haired boy smiled slightly, remembering the day he always thought of when he was sad.

What the accented boy didn't knew, was that Minho was thinking of the exact same day. And that Minho was reminding Frypan of it, reminding him of the good times they had together.

Minho ran into the glade, a layer of sweat covering his exhausted body. He had found nothing in the maze, again. The boy was drained. For almost three years, he had ran that maze. And he still hadn't found a way out. He wanted to find a way out for himself, but also for the other boys in the glade. For Alby, the leader who covered up his loss of hope and sadness with a mask. Newt, the boy who was as broken as a fragile leaf. The blond boy covered up his feelings, but Minho saw right through his tactics. But most of all, Minho wanted to find a way out for Chuck. The boy was too young, they all were. But they had more experience, strength, power. Chuck was probably not even twelve years old. The day Minho ran into the glade from the maze and saw Newt walking around with the young boy. He knew he needed to find a way out, fast, before the curly haired boy would also lose hope.

The keeper of the runners looked around the glade for his best friend who was probably with the youngest boy of the glade. But he couldn't find neither of them. The boy looked around confused, he could see a few track-hoes in the gardens and several builders working on the homestead. But he couldn't find Newt or Chuck. He didn't even see Alby or Gally, the two boys who were always in the middle of the glade, most of the time screaming at slackers.

Minho sighed and began to walk towards the maproom, wondering why he couldn't find his friends anywhere. He knew they were in the glade, seeing that they weren't runners nor did something happen in the maze which would make Alby go in there. But even in that scenario, Newt and Chuck would still be in the glade.

The black haired boy was suddenly pulled behind a tree, a hand covering his mouth before he could make any noise. His back was turned towards the person while he felt their front pressing against him. The person was around the same height as him, seeing that he felt their hot breaths on his neck.''What the shuck.'' Minho tried to say, but the hand which covered his mouth prevented him from letting out any more noises than a few murmers which were inaudible.

''You're on our team.'' Minho recognized the voice immediatly and was even more confused by the tone which was laced in it.

''Newt? What the shuck are you doing?'' The keeper asked the blond haired boy. Minho heard the person behind him suck in an excited breath before they let out a small giggle.

''We're playing tag!'' Newt whispered excitedly, his grip on Minho's shoulder loosening for a moment, making it possible for the black haired boy to turn around. The keeper of the runner grabbed the second in command's hand and placed his other hand on the blond's back, turning him around, their roles were now switched. The only difference that both of their fronts were now facing eachother instead of Minho's back facing Newt's front.

Minho looked at the blond boy's face, and his stern and confused face softened right away. Newt had the biggest smile on his face, a grin from ear to ear. Quiet giggles fell out of his mouth while he carefully looked out from behind the tree, probably looking for the tagger.

''IT'S ALBY! IT'S ALBY!'' Minho heard a voice call from the other side of the glade. Looking out from behind the tree, the runner noticed that the voice belonged to Frypan. The cook was running away from something in pure panic, making Minho worried for a moment. But after a few seconds, Alby came dashing out of the homestead, hot on Frypan's heels who began screeching while running away from the leader.

''Come on, we need to run away.'' The accented boy whispered in the runner's ear, making the hairs on Minho's arms stand upright. The keeper of the runners leaned back slightly, now noticing that he was leaning on the blond haired boy in front of him.

Their eyes locked and Minho swore that he would have fell out his chair if he was sitting on one. The blond boy's eyes were normally a dull brown with almost a clouded vision. But staring into them now, the keeper didn't see that anymore. The were lit up, almost golden from the soft sunlight which was glowing through the leaves of the trees surrounding them.

''BOO!'' The pair suddenly heard a voice shout from behind them, making them scream out of suprise and shock. The big smile on Newt's face never left and only seemed to brighten when he saw who stood behind Minho. The keeper of the runners turned around, now seeing the curly haired boy who he was looking for the whole time since he came into the glade.

Minho felt Newt's hand slip away from his, making it feel empty. Turning around, he saw that Newt was running away. The runner wanted to go after him, but the blond had already disapeared deep into the deadheads before Minho could decide.

''You've fallen hard for him, you know?'' The keeper of the runners turned around towards the voice of the younger glader. His face turned a crimson red as he tried to stutter something out, but that didn't work, his voice was stuck in his throath. When he realized how stupid he looked, he grabbed his runners pack and let out a small scoff.

''You know, it's not a bad thing if he makes you happy.'' The pudgy boy whispered to the keeper, frowning slightly. Minho looked up from the ground to the small boy with wide eyes, but just as he was about to say something, he was interrupted by a hand which touched his arm.

''Oh, and by the way. TAG, YOU'RE IT!'' Chuck ran away towards the open field and Minho saw the young boy giving Frypan and Alby a high five. Frypan lifted the young boy up and spun him around, making the curly haired boy laugh wildly.

''I TAGGED MINHO, THE KEEPER OF THE RUNNERS.'' Chuck laughed wildly, explaining loudly to Frypan and Alby what had happened, but the little boy had let out their conversation about the accented boy who was still somewhere in the deadheads. Minho smiled thankfully before hearing leaves crunch behind him and a soft whisper which was probably one of their own curse words, a whisper which could only belong to his favourite person in the glade.

''OH NO, CHUCK TAGGED ME. I GUESS I WILL NEED TO TAG SOMEONE ELSE NOW. WHO SHOULD I CHOOSE?'' Minho spoke loudly, making sure the group of three who stood in the middle of the glade and the boy behind him could also hear it.

A few minutes later, Frypan, Alby, Chuck, Winston, Gally, Jeff, Clint and a builder named Henry stood in the middle of the glade. Howling with laughter at the chase in front of them. The keeper of the runners chasing the boy with the limp. But a few of the gladers smiled, the ones who saw Minho slowing down his speed for the accented boy.

The blond hair which belonged to the accented boy tickled Thomas' ear, making him giggle slightly, but the giggle which he intended to let go came out more as a snort. Newt laughed too, a sad laugh. A laugh laced with sorrow and misery. But it was a laugh.

''Don't blame yourself Tommy, it's not your fault.''