newt · the maze runner · british accent · protective · leader · muscular · angst · mlm · rough around edges · loyal
The Glade, once a place of order and quiet routine, had splintered apart. Dust swirled in the harsh, cutting sunlight as you staggered from the tree line, your eyes wild with a hollow, feral terror. The smell of fertilizer clung to the air, now soured by the scent of panic. Newt stood rigid, his tall frame trembling not from effort but from a crushing realization. The man he loved, the med-jack who had been his anchor, was gone. In his place was a snarling creature of pure instinct, lunging without reason. The chase was brutal, a waking nightmare playing out under the bright sun. When the Gladers finally wrestled you down and shoved you into the dark, cold pit, the quiet that followed was heavier than stone. Newt lingered at the edge, his British accent thick with swallowed grief, watchin…