Scorch My Soul (NewtxReader) Part two

~Dramatic~

  "Tommy's right," I continue, purposely sounding as smug as possible, "we need to talk about this." I hate how this guy is looking at (Y/N). Even if they do know each other as just friends, I need to make sure he knows that me and (Y/N) are together. She is not up for bloody grabs. I sling my arm around her shoulder and she smiles at me, her cheeks pink.
Aris nods weakly and looks away. Did he get the memo? "Who's that guy?" He asks, and nods to somewhere behind me.
I turn and see Minho a few feet away, a pack of Gladers with discusted faces behind him. He raises an eyebrow as if to say 'well, who are you?' And I almost snort out a laugh.
"Aris, meet Minho." Tommy says, and gestures to him from across the room.
Minho stutters out some unidentifiable words, as if he didn't know where to start and looks away. He looks pissed.
"Look guys," I offer, "Let's just talk for a minute."
"No!" Thomas objects quickly with a panicked face, "I mean, we have to find Teresa first. She could be in danger. I'll check the other rooms." He gets up and heads to the door.
"Isn't any." Minho says and folds his arms, stoping him.
Tommy turns back around. "What? What do you mean?" He asks, his hand still rested on the door frame.
"We checked the whole place. There's no other rooms here." Minho confirms. 
  "How could that be true?" Tommy draws his eyebrows together, "We were here all night and no one saw any other rooms? No kitchen? Not even an extra bathroom? Nothing?"
Minho shakes his head and shrugs. "I dunno, man."
Tommy glances around the room, we probably all look lazy and confused right now. 
"Maybe there's a hidden door?" I say, "Look, we can only do one thing at a time. We should ta-"
"No!" He denies, "Why would they put a hidden door somewhere anyway?"
"Why would they lock a bunch of kids in a room with creepy zombie people?"  I mumble.
Thomas rolls his eyes and drops his gaze to the floor. "Whatever, we have all day to talk to this Aris kid. I'm  going to find Teresa." He says and jogs out of the room
  "Should we go after him?" (Y/N) asks, eying me with a frown.
I run my hand down her (H/C) hair. "No," I say, "I think we should give him some space. He seems stressed."
(Y/N) nods and I meet eyes with Aris again. This time, he doesn't look away. His face is so flat and devoid of expression that I almost can't move.
(Y/N) is looking at him too. Her eyebrows twisted in a way that makes her look scared, mad, and curious. "What's your deal anyway?" She asks Aris sternly. "How are you involved with me at all?"
He frowns and squeezes his knees in his hands. "I don't know how to explain it." He says, "You're the only one I remember."
(Y/N)'s eyes widen and for what seems like forever, she just stares. Then her shoulders slump and her voice suddenly becomes a whisper. "What do you remember about me?" She asks with her head down.
"Not much," Aris sighs, "my memories aren't very clear." He pauses and fiddles with his thumbs as if he wasn't sure what the right thing to say was. "I remember that we were friends. I remember the fact that I was really mad at you for something. I think I hurt you too. I've known you for a long time. I'm sure of it, but I don't know what had drifted us apart."
(Y/N) nods. "Why'd you do it?" She asks like she's about to cry, "Why'd you hurt me?"
He shakes his head. "I don't know." He says, "I don't know much of anything anymore."
"You hurt her and you don't even have a reason for shucking doing so?" Minho growls. I didn't know he was listening until now.
  "I did." Aris defends himself, "I did at some point, but I can't remember what it was."
(Y/N) stand up for moment, then sits back down.  "That's okay." She says, "I don't want to know what it is anyway."
"(Y/N), I'm so-" Aris begins an apology but then stops as (Y/N) buries her face into my shirt.
Is she crying? I pull her closer to me and she just sits there, grabbing at the fabric. Her body starts shaking and my shirt feels wet.
  "Love," I say, "I'm here."
She stops and shoots up straight. Her eyes are red and damp. "Haha, Sorry," She whimpers in a shaky voice, "I'm being dramatic." (Y/N) gives a pathetic excuse for a smile and then looks down, shattering.