1. FIGHTER - the maze runner, newt

Chapter 45

Why was he being so awkward?

"Yeah, alright." I said cautiously, bobbing my head slowly, feeling the air become thick with awkward tension. I walked across the room to my crate, lifting the lid while trying to ignore whatever phase Newt was going through.

Squatting, my hands shifted through the unfolded disaster held within my crate. The stench of sweat penetrated my poor defenseless nostrils. These cloths need a wash and I desperately needed a shower. As I tossed around the different materials and fabrics, I heard Newt cough awkwardly from behind.

"So, uh...did it hurt?" Newt asked timidly and awkwardly.

I stopped flipping through my crate, freezing atop of it and staring into the box with furrowed brows. What was he talking about? I cocked my head over my shoulder, my eyes squinting quizzically at his confusing question.

No longer leaning against the wall, Newt stood a few feet behind me, scratching the back of his neck with his free hand. He looked terribly uncomfortable. His button nose was wrinkled above his shy smile, gluing his soulful eyes to my crouching form.

"Uh...did what hurt?" I asked, pushing myself to stand and face him.

Newt opened his mouth to answer, before closing it quickly. His face scrunched up as he glanced away, another internal debate taking his mind by storm. He gazed to his shifting feet as silence enveloped the two of us for a quiet moment, my quizzical gaze making him squirm.

Newt cringed deeply before basically throwing up his words, "When you fell from heaven?"

Did he just-?

Wait a minute.

I froze, mulling over his rambled and uncertain words. I went over the words again, watching as Newt anxiously clenched his chin, his fingers hiding his embarrassed but humorous cringe. As realization dawned on me at Newt's "smooth" attempt to "woo" me, a small adoring smile found its way onto my lips. My eyes flickered to my dirty boots as I dug my hands into my pockets, now understanding why Newt was being weird.

He was just trying to flirt.

"Did you just use a pick-up line on me?" I asked, my lips tugging up crooked on my left cheek.

Newt paused. "Yes?"

My smirk grew to a grin at his flushed face and squirmy stance. He's so adorable when he's awkward. He was so uncertain with himself and very unconfident in his advances, however, his attempt absolutely warmed my heart.

"Why?" I asked, a chuckle leaving my mouth.

Newt stopped, his hands falling into his pockets as his face fell to another uncertain expression. His mouth bobbed open for a moment as he created an unreliable response, "Am I not allowed to woo the woman I like?"

"Not when you look like you're in pain doing it." I mused, taking a step towards him, a more tender smile forming above my chin, "Lemme guess, this is the thing Minho taught you?"

Newt sighed, nodding with a flat look, "He said 'women love pickup-lines' and gave me one."

My heart melted at his naïveness, adoring his uncertain but determined attempts to make me happy. Smiling to the floor for a moment, I began inching towards the tall blonde.

I walked to the point of shuffling, pressing the tips of our shoes to each other. My hands delicately slipped from the loose hold of my pockets, draping my sensitive fingertips along Newt's abdomen and over the filthy white fabric of his blouse.

I finally lifted my eyes to meet his, catching his gaze shamelessly studying my dainty and calloused fingers. He seemed a lot more content now than he did a minute ago.