What He Does When You're Sad

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Thomas: The tears soaked the pillow underneath your face as you sobbed endlessly. How much time had passed since Alby died? Fifteen minutes? An hour? A day? You weren't sure, and, frankly, you didn't care. One of your closest friends was dead.

The door to your room opened, and strong arms wrapped around you. You shifted around, just enough to meet Thomas's chocolate brown eyes. He was looking down at you, his face red and soaked in remnants of tears. Unlike you, Thomas had the strength to stop crying only an hour after Alby passed. You were still not over it.

"He would hate seeing you like this, y'know," He mumbled into your ear. You shifted around so you were now completely facing him.

"How would you know? He's freaking dead!" You sobbed, wiping your eyes. Thomas sighed and pushed his hair back.

"If you don't stop crying I'm gonna do it," He said, looking down at you with a smirk. You jumped a little, knowing exactly what he meant when he said "it."

"Oh my god, Thomas, please don't. I need to be sad for a little bit every one in a while," You begged. However, Thomas had a one track mind and couldn't be stopped once he thought of something.

So, he grabbed your wrists and held them in one hand. You tried to twist away, but there was no use. Thomas chuckled to himself as he threateningly held his hand over his head...

Then crashed his hands onto your stomach and started tickling you like mad.

You tried to keep the laughter down, holding your breath. You tried to thrash around and escape as you struggled to contain your joy. You tried to block out the ticklish sensation by closing your eyes, but nothing worked.

"I'll stop once I hear you laugh," he explained, then released your wrists and started tickling you with both hands.

Unable to stand it anymore, you let the laughter out. Tears started streaming from your eyes, but they were no longer tears of despair. They were simply tears of joy.

"Thomas, stop! Stop! God, Thomas, I'm gonna klunk my pants," you begged in between fits. Seemingly satisfied with your reaction, Thomas stopped tickling you. It took you a moment to get your breathing back to a normal rate. "I hate you."

"But you're not crying anymore," he said, smiling. You sat up and Thomas wiped the tears that remained. You looked up at him, thanking god that you had been blessed by such a perfect guy.

Whenever Thomas caught you alone with pain and sorrow in your eyes, he would simply start tickling you until you were laughing hysterically. You're sorry to admit that his strategy hadn't failed yet.

Newt: Although you were now safe in the helicopter that flew you away from the hell you had been trapped in, you couldn't contain your racking sobs. Only moments ago, you had been forced to watch two of your closest friends die. Chuck and Gally had both died before they could see a world outside of the maze. Poor, sweet, innocent Chuck who was like the little brother of the entire glade, had been killed in Thomas's place. And rough, yet sweet-at-heart Gally had been beaten to death by Thomas, who was enraged at the death of Chuck.

"Stop," a familiar voice demanded. You pulled your hands away from your face and found yourself staring into Newt's emerald green irises. "you need to stop crying, love. I know you cared about them, but they probably hate seeing you like this."

"They're gone, Newt. I'll never see them again," you whimpered, covering your face in your hands again.

"But what did they die for?" He put his hands on his shoulders and started massaging you slowly. "They died so that you could move on, so that you could live in a world outside of the maze. We have opportunities that lots of people don't have. Please don't bloody waste them on grief."

TMR Imagines and Preferences - Newt, Thomas, Minho, and Gallyजहाँ कहानियाँ रहती हैं। अभी खोजें