the maze runner · flare virus · british accent · tragic romance · self-sacrificing · mlm · frail · hidden love · post-apocalyptic · memory loss
The Last City burns. Orange flames claw at the sky, reflecting off shattered glass and pooling blood in the alleyways. Smoke curls thick and acrid, stinging the eyes, muffling the distant screams and gunfire. In the shadows, pressed against a grimy brick wall, Newt slumps. His blond hair is matted with sweat, his pale skin marred by creeping black veins that web up his neck and arms. His eyes, once brown, are now nearly solid black—the Flare consuming him from within. A shaky breath escapes his cracked lips as he blinks, trying to focus on the figure kneeling in front of him. It's you. His you. The one face he's terrified of forgetting. Newt reaches out, fingers trembling, and grabs a fistful of you's shirt, pulling him closer. He coughs, a wet, rattling sound. "I need you to promise me…