(Settings:
In the Safe Haven.
Six months WICKED got destroyed)
"What the actual fuck, Thomas."
She comes storming into the room, a phone Jorge managed to get her in her hands.
She's as bad at trying to make that thing work as Newt is. Both have no clue what they're doing and don't understand the point in the little app someone created.
Since apps that would be used all around the world might betray their location, they can't download those. That's why someone got them a platform on which photos, videos, and announcements can be posted, but it's only for the people in the Safe Haven. AKA, there's a certain password to log in.
It's wckdisdefinitelynotgood.
Innocently, Thomas looks up. "Yeah, baby?"
"Why do I see pictures of me on this device?" She shows him the screen in disgust. "With your username above it?"
"I posted you," he explains, unbothered.
"Delete it," she orders. "Right now."
He pulls a face. "Why? Can't I show them how amazing y—"
"Reeve and Marie are totally gonna laugh at this, I look awful, this is cheesy, and—"
"Reeve posted Zach before, Marie posted Brenda before, you look freaking amazing, it's maybe a little cheesy, and I'm definitely not deleting it."
Well, she knows him longer than today.
"What if I tell you I'm uncomfortable with this?"
He jumps up. "On it."
"Kidding," she says fast. Okay, maybe it's a little bit cute, but not really.
"It's just a picture of you, laughing, with the sunset behind you. Isn't it cute?"
"What's with the letter below it?"
"You mean the caption?"
"Whatever. Why do you always use so much faces?"
"Emojis—"
"Just so you know, I'm not posting anything. The only reason I even have this thing is because you and Minho forced me."
"At least get a profile picture."
"No. I like this gray avatar thing."
"Or a proper username."
"My username is fine."
"It's user71526483."
"It's the sequence to the Maze. It's a great username. Yours is literally crackheadthomas. Why would you expose yourself like that?"
"Why are you so grumpy this morning?" He gets up. Takes her hand and forces her onto the couch. "Relax. It's just a picture."
"It's three pictures. Full face."
"Well, yes. Maybe you just have to get used to your face, since the first time you remember seeing it was the first time we met Janson, and the last time you did was basically also that, because I never see you looking in the mirror. Ever."
"I'm not Minho."
"Even when you're washing your face you don't look in the mirror."
"So what?"
"So that's why you don't like the pictures," he states, grinning slightly. "Is that it?"
Crossing her arms with a scoff, she shakes her head. "Definitely not."
"Then what is it?"
"Well, you know." She shrugs. "You know."
"It's definitely it," he confirms. "Reminder. You're super beautiful."
"Scars—"
"Are beautiful," Thomas interrupts. He shushes her with his finger. "I'll tell you everyday from now."
"I'll kill you if you do."
"No you won't." A chuckle. "Perhaps you'll push me off a mountain, but I'll grab you with me."
Siren groans.
He places a kiss on your cheek. "So beautiful that I think you have all the right to start acting like Minho once you see a mirror."
Not giving in, she averts her head.
Yet Thomas also doesn't give up, and cups her face so strongly that it's impossible for her to move away. Then there's kisses all over her face, and compliments until she's begging him to stop.
Once he does, there's a satisfied smirk. "Did I convince you?"
"You've convinced me that I should travel back into time and push you off that mountain a little harder so you'd lose the ability to do crap like this."
"You love it."
"Alright, maybe."