Thomas Sangster/ Newt Imagines& GIFs

35. Jealous Newt

description - You and Newt are dating, but Newt thinks you like Minho more than him.

Ever since you’d come up in the Box, Newt had taken a liking to you. He gave you the tour on the First Day, walked you through the workings of the Glade, protected  from the other boys when they got too crude – he was a downright angel to you, and quickly became your closest friend. You two clicked, fit together like the pieces of a puzzle; he was the lock and you were his key.

Naturally, a romance blossomed.

It was subtle at first. Newt would spend all his free time with you, laughing at each and every one of your stupid jokes; he would ruffle your hair from time to time, only so he could revel in how soft it was; he would let you steal his food during meals, even though it meant he’d be constantly hungry throughout the rest of the day; he would camp out near the Deadheads with you at night and tell you funny stories about how the Glade was run before you arrived.

He was falling head-over-heels in love with you, and it never once occurred to him that you felt the same. You’d kissed him one night – a soft and gentle kiss before you went to sleep – and his whole world fell into place. From then on, he was yours – mind and body and heart – to keep.

And then you became a Runner, and he quickly started to feel like he was losing you – to Minho, out of all people.

Again, it was subtle at first. You were bound to spend a lot of time with Minho, seeing as he was the Keeper of the Runners and he had to train you. But even past your training period, the two of you always mapped the same routes together, and he always chose you to be his partner for when he ventured out into the Maze. And Newt knew very well that when you spent a whole lot of time alone with someone, it was very easy to get close – too close.

He watched from the gardens as you and Minho jogged in through the East Door, heading straight for the Map Room. Your cheeks were flushed from the physical effort, but it didn’t stop you from telling Minho one of your stupid jokes – the same kind Newt had fallen in love with. Minho snorted a laugh, nudging you with his arm as the two of your disappeared out of view.

It left a bad taste in Newt’s mouth.

At dinner, he sat alone, away from the Homestead. It almost surprised him to see you join him with your own plate of food – he thought you would have opted to sit with Minho. Your hair was slightly damp and smelled of citrus fruits, a sure sign that you’d just taken a shower. He loved that smell on you – it intoxicated him in the most pleasant way possible whenever he held you in his arms.

“Missed me?” you asked with a smile as you sat down on the ground beside him. Before he could reply, you leaned in and pecked his lips softly. Usually, a kiss from you made everything else go away, but not that time. If anything, it dug deeper at the hole in his chest.

“Frypan’s food looks particularly good today,” you commented. “Here – you can have some of my chicken if you want.”

It had always been the other way around; Newt was the one to feed you. Such a simple gesture and yet it warmed up his heart so much, until he thought of how you probably always shared your lunch with Minho in the Maze – and suddenly it didn’t feel so special anymore.

“I’m alright,” he said.

You frowned. “Are you okay?” you asked. “You’ve been kind of quiet lately.” You took his hand in yours. “Listen, I know you’re not that fond of me being a Runner—”

“I need to ask you something.” He figured it was better to let out what was bothering him and do it quickly, like pulling off a bandage. If he kept it bottled up any longer, it would only continue to painfully chew away at his gut.

You looked at him with worry in your eyes. “Yeah?”

“Are you in love with Minho?”

A silence fell around the two of you. Confusion spread across your face. “What? Why would you even think that?”

Newt let go of your hand and shook his head. “Never mind.”

Your cheeks turned bright red. “No! You can’t just say that and then expect me to shucking drop it!” You forcefully turned his head to face you. “Is it because we run together? It’s our job, Newt!”

“Your job was being a bloody Track-Hoe with me,” he corrected, his tone harsher than he’d intended it to be.

You gave him a cold stare and then got up, walking rapidly towards the Homestead. Newt watched as you went inside and slammed the door of the dilapidated building behind you.

The next morning, Newt woke up earlier than usual and opted to have breakfast in the kitchen rather than with the other Gladers. He had Frypan for company, and even he was enough. All Newt really wanted to do was find you and pull you into his arms and kiss you all over – but you probably never wanted to speak with him again after the night before. He’d been a shuck-faced idiot and let his jealousy take the best of him, and if he lost you because of it –

He didn’t even want to think about that possibility.

As he was finishing up his food, you walked into the kitchen. When his eyes fell on you, his breath hitched in his throat. You looked horrible – you had dark circles under your puffy red eyes, like you’d been up all night crying. Was it at his expense? His gut churned violently at the thought of having hurt you like that.

“(Y/N)—”

“Shut up, Newt,” you said. “Frypan, can you give us a moment?”

Frypan’s eyes darted from Newt to you, and then sighed in defeat. He left the room, wiping his hands on his apron.

Newt waited for you to speak, dreading what you were going to say to him.

“You’re right, I have been spending a lot of time with Minho,” you began. “But that’s expected. We run together and map the Maze together. It’s our shucking job.” Your voice faltered. “But if you think for one moment that I would ever choose him over you, then you’re the most stupid shank in this whole shucking Glade.”

“I—”

“I love you, dumbass.”

It was like Newt’s world fell into place again. Every doubt he’d had about how you felt, every feeling of dread, every worry washed away with your words.

He got up and wrapped his arms around you tightly, pulling you close to his chest, kissing your forehead repeatedly. “I love you, too,” he said.

He’d never been more sure of anything in his life.

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