Tired of Running

14|| spiraling down

// maybe if i fall asleep,
    i won't dream right \\

* minor trigger warnings *

    •
Newt sat cross legged in the grass. He watched the gladers welcoming another greenie. He couldn't even keep track of everyone's names anymore. Lately he had only been talking to Harper. He just hadn't been feeling himself. His hopes for finding a way out of the maze had spiraled down; him along with them. She had noticed his off behavior, but he insisted he was fine. Fine was the most popular lie told. No one in this place was fine. But Newt was worse off than any of them. What was the point of the creators keeping them alive if there was no way out?

Harper was sitting next to Minho; as usual.
Winston was on her other side, laughing at the greenie fighting with one of the med-jacks. Jeff. That was his name... He wondered what the standards were for two people being "together". He figured Minho and Harper were, but maybe that was just because he had a preferred negative outlook on everything. Maybe it were for the best if they were. If— when Newt was gone, he wouldn't have to worry about Harper. Minho would take care of her. Continue to, like he already was. Pushing his sadness away momentarily, he sat next to Harper, rejoining the group. The girl smiled when he sat, bringing Newt that familiar security again. Maybe she was enough. Maybe what he felt for her could keep him here.

Minho passed him a jar of the strange yellowish liquid. Looking not quite enthusiastic, Newt took it and chugged some down. Coughing, he forced a smile. Gally's recipe. No one actually knew what it was, or how or why the boy went through the trouble of making it. First time Harper tried it she nearly choked. Harper shook her head as the boy took another drink. Newt passed it to Harper, smirking in amusement. Sighing, she gagged it down. Newt smiled, satisfied.
Harper stuck her tongue out and shook her head, "Disgusting..." Newt shrugged and drank the rest, laughing.

~~~

Minho yawned as he watched the final flames of the fire die down. Beside him, laying curled up in a ball, was Harper, sound asleep. A cool breeze blew through the hammocks, causing some of Harper's hair to fall in front of her eyes. She shifted, wrapping her arms around her self tightly. She must be cold... Rising to his feet, he pulled the blanket off his hammock and covered Harper with it. Her nose twitched as the hairs tickled her face. Slowly and gently, she pushed the hairs back, off her face. She looked so peaceful.

It was one of the rare nights she wasn't tossing and turning. He hoped tonight she wouldn't wake up screaming from a nightmare. What happened to Stephen really haunted her; not to mention the attack from Scott.  Unfortunately, he didn't think it was over for her. Newt pushed past the boy roughly, causing Minho to take his eyes off Harper's sleeping form. Newt was glaring at him as he sat down in his bunk, "Shuck off, Minho..."
He said it quietly, but it stung.

Minho stepped away from Harper and settled back into his own bunk. He stole one last glance at Harper, but couldn't get Newt's attitude out of his head. What was that?
He had no reason to be that much of a slinthead about Harper. Then again, he had just seemed off lately... Pushing it aside, he decided he would talk to him in the morning.
He closed his eyes and quickly drifted off to sleep.

Sleep didn't come to Newt so easily. As he laid in his hammock above Minho, his brain worked over-time. So there was something between them... Not that it mattered. If they were going to be stuck here forever why not develop a relationship? He glared at the roof of the makeshift building before turning and facing Harper. A small smile twitched at the corner of his mouth as he watched her.
She didn't deserve to be here. She needed to be loved and protected. Minho would take care of her when he was gone. He wasn't finding anything in the maze, he wasn't ever needed as "second in command", he was much slower than nearly all the other runners— he just wasn't needed. And wasn't wanted in most cases... What would he tell Harper? Surely if she even detected the slightest difference in him she would follow him. Tomorrow was the day. He would do it. If he was going to do it anyway; she needed to know how he felt first.
Nodding to himself, he drifted off to sleep; What would she think though? What if she was the one who found him? Was there even a sliver of a chance she would feel the same?

He shook his head; this was ridiculous. They were trapped in a maze for almost three years— she wasn't thinking about being in love. Especially with him. It was Minho; he could see that now. Harper made him laugh, but Minho made Harper laugh— constantly- Newt rarely was the reason that beautiful sound erupted from her. She was more important to him, than he was to her.  He understood.
Minho would take care of her. He just wanted everything to be different. Tomorrow it would be...