IT STARTED WITH A MAZE - Newt x Reader (F)

- EPILOGUE -

Minho drops down next with a content sigh, his knees bouncing like he still hasn't shaken the last year out of his muscles. He looks out at the crowd, the laughter, the light. "This'll be a good home for us," he says softly. The words linger. He doesn't say more. He doesn't need to. They settle over the space like a promise, carried gently on the sea air. Then, typical Minho, he's on his feet again with a pat to Newt's shoulder. "Right, time to go check who wants to swim."

He disappears into the chaos with a grin.

Thomas stays behind. The firelight makes his expression hard to read - open, but a little tired. Or maybe thoughtful. "I'm sorry about Teresa," I say, gently. There was no good moment earlier to bring it up.

He nods. "So am I."

The silence after isn't awkward. It's shared. Real.

Newt leans forward, elbows on his knees, his gaze flicking toward the firepit where Brenda stands, laughing at something one of the kids says. Her hair is half-lit by the flames, her eyes squinted in amusement. She looks like peace. "Well," Newt says, tilting his head. "Maybe this place is where we all get to start again. Not like forgetting the past... just letting it soften a bit. Making room for something else to grow." I glance at him, something warm blooming quietly in my chest.

Thomas follows his gaze. "Maybe."

As if on cue, Brenda turns and spots us. She tilts her head, curious, then breaks into a soft smile. I smile back and offer a small wave. "Start slow," I advise Thomas with a nudge to his side.

He chuckles, rubbing the back of his neck. "We'll chat later," be says, already standing. Thomas nods once more, almost to himself, then walks toward her. They meet by the fire, her hand slipping into his, and he leans in to kiss her cheek. She turns her face toward him, eyes closing just for a second. I chuckle, watching them from the distance, a small smile tugging at my lips.

Newt reaches for my hand again, intertwining our fingers beneath the flicker of firelight.

Most of the camp has yet to quiet. There's laughter still, distant and warm, some cheers from games and drinks. But here on our bench near the slope, it's just us.

His shoulder rests against mine, steady. Then Newt's fingers brush along the back of my hand like he's memorizing every ridge and line again, just to be sure I'm really here. "You know," he says, voice soft, "I spent so long thinking I wouldn't get to have anything like this... Peace...You."

I glance over. His face is tired, a little weathered, but beautiful in the way only survival can make someone look. There's light in his eyes again, but the kind that's safe. Settled. "You think you have me now, huh?" I muse.

Newt's smile is pure sunshine, the way he shakes his head in trying to hide it. "You know what I mean, love," he utters.

I nod and make a soft hum. "We ran for so long..." I murmur in agreement, allowing my thoughts to settle deeper. "I don't even know what to do now that we don't have to."

Newt gives a faint smile. "We're young. We've got time to figure that out," he says. Sometimes I do forget our age. I think that the world made us grow up too quickly. Then Newt leans a little further against me - careful not to cause pain but to suggest something. "Start with be loved, maybe."

I laugh gently once more. It's hard to not feel lighthearted when we're here together. "By you?" I wonder.

He shrugs, but I catch the way his throat moves when he swallows. "Yeah. By me, Darling. If you'll let me."

I don't respond right away. I just look at him, let the quiet hold us for a few moments. "You already love me," I whisper teasingly.

He nods, eyes flicking to mine. "More than I ever thought I could care about anyone," he says. "I mean-" Newt chuffs as if overrun by the emotion. "If love is a grain of sand, than what I feel for you is a bloody universe of deserts," he utters.

There's a twist in my chest - not hurting, just... full. Like something real is settling in there, something that's been waiting its turn. "I remember when I thought I'd lost you," I say quietly, watching the firelight play along the curve of his cheek. "It didn't feel real."

He swallows, and when he speaks, his voice is tight. "Yeah all the while I was trying to bloody harm you," he says, barely louder than the waves.

I let out a breath, small and steady. "Newt we've been over this," I remind him - because we have. "You were sick. I knew that. You weren't yourself."

He looks down, teeth pressing into his lip. "Yeah, but-"

"But I still love you," I say, and it comes out easy. Like it's always been there. "And somewhere in the mess, I still saw you. Even when you didn't."

Newt's lifts his eyes to mine. There's something glassy in them, but he doesn't let it fall. Instead, a soft, tired grin pulls at the corner of his mouth. "You've always seen me, haven't you?"

I smile back, warm and a little teary. "Unfortunately," I utter and brush a strand from his forehead. "If only you didn't have such blinding good looks." He lets out a small laugh - one of those quiet, disbelieving ones, like he can't comprehend this is his life now. That I'm really here. That we both are.

Then he leans in, and our foreheads rest together like we've done a thousand times before. We sit there, close and quiet, the world spinning gently around us - just a boy and a girl who made it out alive.

Then, in the quiet, he says it, almost too soft to hear. "Three little birds."

I exhale, the sound catching in my chest, and I nod against him. "Three little birds," I whisper back.

And then his lips find mine, and it's not desperate or rushed like the world might end - it's gentle. Certain. Like something I've waited my entire life for, and finally, finally get to keep.

In my head, I hear nothing but the sound of the waves and his heartbeat. I lean into the kiss, and into the space between us that used to ache, now whole.

I know I haven't been here long, but it seems that Minho is right.

This feels like home.

And I truly believe that every little thing, is gonna be alright.

~