artemis, MAZE RUNNER¹

¹ 𝒇𝒊𝒗𝒆.

"Where are we going?" She asked, stumbling behind him.

"You're going to say hello to a few people," he answered, "You've been cooped up inside for the time that you've been here," he turned to face her, and dropped a wink, "The others want to get to know you."

"Oh." Another pause. He chuckled.

"Don't sound so surprised — I'm serious."

"Right." She didn't buy it. Her? She was a freak. She had torn up the Glade in a matter of hours — if anything she scared people. Not as much as she scared herself, though.

He stopped. "No, I'm serious." He looked her dead in the eye, "You're our first girl — of course people are interested." There was a beat. "I certainly am."

"Oh?" She blinked, swallowed. She bit the inside of her cheek to stop a smile, but it came anyway. "Really?"

He nodded. "Absolutely." He grinned, leaning forwards. "You're a mystery, Emis." He whispered.

"Pfft, thanks." She said it offhandedly, but her stomach fluttered at his proximity.

He shrugged, and she felt herself laugh. It was fleeting happiness, but it slammed into dull pain.

The laughter had scraped across her raw throat, and pain burned through her lungs as she coughed. His smile faltered. "You alright?" He asked, walking towards her. She nodded, putting a hand on her throat. "I'm fine." Her voice came out as a rasp.

"Here," said Newt, "Let's get you some water."

The kitchen stood at the edge of the Village, open-air and with a huge fire smoked up at the back. Boys milled around, bits of food in their hands, laughing as they worked. Newt guided her round the large slab of wood in the middle, where a bucket had been shoved under a tap. A streak of dull black showed where the surface had been charred by heat. There were shelves and cupboards carved into the base, flimsy metal pots and pans were stacked around. Emis felt her stomach growl as the thick scent of cooking food mixed with the smoke. She swallowed.

"Hey, Fry." Newt said, leaning against the counter.

Emis hesitated as the cook straightened up from beneath the work surface, pulling a bowl up and letting it clatter to the surface.

"Newt." He replied, nodding his head with a smile. "Y'alright there, Emis?" He slapped his hands against each other, flipping over a grubby towel to dry them off. He wore a huge smile on his face, his eyes were crinkled. He radiated happiness.

She nodded, breaking into a smile.

"What magic're you working here, eh?" Newt said to Frypan, "I can hardly get her to smile, and when she does, it's usually sarcastic."

Frypan laughed, a deep, rumbling sound that shook the kitchen. "I'm sure she smiles all the time, Newt." He said, "You're just too serious to provoke nothing."

Emis chuckled, "Way too serious." She poked him in the side, to which he did the same.

Frypan chuckled, "And you say that you're not a five-year-old." He said to Newt, who shook his head. Emis wanted to laugh, but fear of the pain brought the bubbling happiness back down. Her smile faltered.

"Alright, alright," Newt said, catching her expression. "Fry, get Emis something to drink, will you? I've got to go greet to our new Greenbean."

Frypan nodded, giving Emis a wink as he left. "I don't doubt you could do with some grub as well, hey?" She smiled.

"Thanks." He waved it off.

"Don't sweat it — you missed dinner and breakfast. If anything, it's my job to get food in your belly." He laughed again. "Man, Emis. Here." He handed her a tin mug, filled with water as it spilled gently over the sides. She gripped it, fingertips slipping on the smooth surface. She tipped it back, let the cool water wash down her throat and soothe the raw taste. She downed it quick, wiped a hand across her mouth and placed the cup on the counter.