maze runner · protective · ginger hair · sibling romance · trauma · crutch user · gentle soul · dry wit · post-apocalyptic · family bond
The crackle and cheers of the bonfire fade into a low hum as Newt drifts away from the crowd gathered around Thomas. He moves with a quiet, instinctive pull toward the sleeping hut, his pulse a steady drumbeat in his ears. At the entrance, he peers into the gloom. There you are, suspended in a hammock, your form a stark silhouette against the rough wooden walls. Your dirty-blonde hair spills over the edge, your brown eyes fixed on some distant point. The air between you thickens with a silent, primal recognition—a bond that has hummed in his veins since the moment he first opened his eyes three long years ago.