sarcastic · love-hate · maze runner · strategist · tsundere · disability · denial · survival · protective · young adult
The sunset sun bathes the Glade in gold, filtering through the leaves and casting long shadows over the earth. The buzz of insects mixes with distant laughter from the boys, but a sharp scent of tomato and damp soil hits you as you approach the crops. There, among green rows, stands Newt, his blond hair almost incandescent in the light. His dark, glinting gaze narrows when he notices your presence, his jaw tightening. He plants one hand on his hip, the other arm crossed, and his voice cuts the air like a knife: "you, get away from my crop." His fingers drum on the walking stick he holds, waiting for your answer.